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“It shows anyone who wants to fuck with me how strong I am. That’s important. They have to know you’re not some fucking weakling, or they’ll figure out where you hurt the most and try to take advantage of it.”
Willow looks like she’s considering that. Then something wicked glints in her rich chocolate eyes, and she tilts her head to one side.
“So… do you just whip your dick out anytime you’re negotiating with an enemy? So they can see your tattoo and realize how badass you are?” Her lips tug to one side. “Huh. That’s an interesting intimidation tactic.”
Malice’s expression darkens, and I choke on a laugh.
She’s bold, I’ll give her that. Not many people would have the balls to tease Mal behind his back, let alone to his face. But this beautiful, bright girl doesn’t seem afraid of him at all in this moment. There was a time where she barely spoke in his presence, when him slamming doors and being all… him would have had her flinching and trying to find a place to hide from his mood. But not anymore.
A hell of a lot has changed since the night she first got here.
“Yeah, Mal,” I drawl, crossing my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should’ve tried that when Ethan and his boys came over to negotiate. It could’ve really turned things around for us.”
He jabs the butter knife in my direction, scowling. “Fuck you.”
Willow makes a little noise like she’s holding back a laugh, and I smirk at her as Malice turns back to making his sandwich. A moment later, she gets up from the chair she’s perched on and pads over to the counter, putting half her orange onto the plate Malice got out. He looks down at it and then back up at her, lifting an eyebrow.
“It’s a peace offering,” she says, biting her lower lip and actually managing to look contrite.
“I don’t want your fucking orange.”
Her face falls a little. “Oh.”
With a swift yank, Malice tugs her closer to him. His large hand frames her jaw as he angles her head and presses his lips to hers in a hard kiss. She whimpers, her body arching against his as he devours her mouth for a long moment. When they break apart, she wobbles a little, looking like she might collapse.
“That’sa peace offering,” Mal tells her, his voice dropping. “And I accept.”
Leaving her blinking dazedly in the middle of the kitchen, Malice takes his plate over to the table, jerks out a chair, and drops into it, tearing into his food.
A moment later, Vic comes walking in. He glances around at all of us in the kitchen, and although his expression is shuttered, the vibe in the room changes yet again. When he briefly locks eyes with Willow, I know he’s got to be thinking about last night, just like the rest of us are.
It was a big fucking deal for him, and I’m not sure I should’ve pushed him like that at the end, even though it needed to happen. As far as I know, Vic hasn’t ever really done anything with a woman before, but I’m glad he was there last night.
It needed to be all of us.
My older brother pulls his gaze away from Willow after a moment, and I can practically see him snap back into business mode.
“I’ve got a lead,” he says. “On where Ilya is. It’s a possible spot where he’s been staying.”
“How possible?” Malice asks, leaning forward.
“Very. He’s been seen there multiple times, coming and going. He’s likely using it as a base or a hideout while he gathers information.”
“That’s good enough for me,” I say. “I can go try to take him out.”
“I’m going with you,” Malice tells me shortly, then lifts his chin at Vic. “We’ll handle that. You’ve got other shit to take care of today, yeah?”
Vic nods. “I do. I’ll start working on that this afternoon.”
Willow’s eyes widen. “You’re going after Ilyatoday?”
“We have to.” Malice shoves back from the table, picking up his plate. “We can’t afford to waste time.”
“He’s… dangerous, right?”
“If he’s anything like his brother, and everything seems to suggest that he is, then yes,” Victor replies matter-of-factly.
She glances between the three of us, worry clear on her face.
