Page 39 of Mayhem

Malakai glanced across the quad and caught the reaction easily. “You’re using me,” he said, sounding pleased enough about it that I finally looked over. He had that sharp little grin he got when something entertained him more than it should, and he bumped his shoulder into mine again before adding, “I’d like it noted that I usually charge for this level of emotional support.”

“I’d like it noted that I didn’t ask you to come with me in the first place.” I adjusted the strap of my bag and kept walking while Nichlas remained behind us. “You sat down at my table, stole my food, touched my work, and followed me out. If that happens to make him wonder whether you’re still supposed to stop me, that sounds like a reward for tolerating you.”

Malakai laughed, loud enough that a couple walking ahead of us glanced back. “That’s mean. I spent an hour helping you with your homework.”

“You vandalized my notes and ate six fries.”

“Seven.” He reached for the strap of my bag again, and I slapped his hand away without slowing. “And you changed your route on purpose. He saw you with me this morning, now he gets to see you leave with me. You’re trying to make him think Hunter changed the rules.”

“I’m making him wonder.” That distinction mattered enough that I looked at Malakai properly. “Nichlas does better when he thinks he understands where the walls are. He knew you were supposed to keep me away from him. He knew Hunter had rules. Now he gets to decide whether any of that still applies, and he doesn’t get to ask me for the answer.”

Malakai’s grin faded into something more interested, though his mouth didn’t stay quiet for long. He asked how long Nichlas usually lasted before uncertainty made him stupid, then started tossing out possibilities with increasing enthusiasm—more security, changed routes, skipping classes, calling Hunter directly, maybe trying to leave campus entirely. I answered when there was something worth answering, because half of what he was saying lined up with things I’d already watched Nichlas do. The rest was Malakai enjoying the idea of a frightened man slowly burning through every option he thought he had. By the time we reached the next building, we’d turned it into an actual discussion about what fear did to routines and how quickly people exposed the things they valued once they started improvising.

“He’ll tighten everything first,” I told him as we stopped outside the doors. “Then he’ll get tired. That’s when he’ll get sloppy. Nobody stays scared at the same level forever. Eventually he’ll either convince himself I’m not coming or do something stupid because he can’t stand waiting.”

Malakai leaned against the stone beside the entrance instead of leaving, because apparently we were still doing this. “And you’re going to keep letting him see you until then.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I’m going to disappear long enough for him to think I got bored.” I glanced back toward the quad, but Nichlas was gone now. “He knows me well enough to know that’s bullshit, which makes it better.”

Malakai stared at me for a second, then smiled again in that slightly unhinged way that made it obvious he was enjoying this far more than a normal person should. “I knew fucking you was a good decision.”

I shoved his chest with one hand, mostly because he deserved it, and he caught himself against the wall laughing. “You really do ruin everything the second you open your mouth.”

He pushed away from the stone and immediately fell back into step when I headed toward the next building.

ronan

Echo had been in the lounge for twenty-three minutes and still hadn’t relaxed into a single piece of furniture.

She’d taken the chair farthest from the door, tucked into the corner where the wall met the long bank of windows, and angled it just enough that she could see the entrance without turning her head. Hunter’s desk sat across the room in the same line of sight. So did the hallway leading deeper into the private rooms, the bar, and most of the sectional Malakai and I usually occupied when Hunter was pretending we weren’t distracting him. Echo had found the only seat in the room that gave her nearly everything at once, dropped her bag beside it, and opened a textbook across her knees as though the choice had been about finding somewhere quiet to read.

Malakai had spent most of those twenty-three minutes making sure she regretted it.

He’d started on the couch with me. That lasted until Echo pulled a pen from her bag, and then he was across the room asking why she had three different highlighters when every page looked like she’d attacked it with the same yellow one. Echo told him to get the fuck away from her homework. Malakai took that as permission to crouch beside the chair and read over her arm instead, close enough that his chest pressed briefly against her shoulder when she tried to turn the book away from him. She shoved an elbow into his ribs without looking up.

“You know,” Malakai said, reaching around her anyway to tap something on the page, “most people thank me when I offer free tutoring.”

Echo caught his finger before it touched the paper and bent it backward until he laughed. “You haven’t offered tutoring. You’ve been reading over my shoulder and breathing on me for ten fucking minutes. Go bother your boyfriend.”

He glanced at me, apparently considering the suggestion, then settled one forearm across the back of her chair instead. “He’s watching us. I’m making his afternoon interesting.”

I was watching because Malakai had been talking about Echo too much lately. He had always talked, especially when something caught his interest, but this had changed from telling me about the woman who’d tried to carve up Nichlas into telling me what she’d said after class, what she’d threatened him with in the library, which professor she hated, and how she apparently preferred fries drowned in enough salt to kill a normal person.

Two nights ago, while we were in bed, he’d casually suggested putting her between us as if he were proposing a different restaurant for dinner. He had spent another ten minutes describing exactly how he thought she’d behave there before I put a pillow over his face. I hadn’t told him no.

That was the part I kept circling back to while I watched Echo trap his hand against the chair and continue reading like she hadn’t just threatened to break one of his fingers. I didn’t trust her. She had been at Aldrich for barely long enough to learn which buildings had the best coffee, and she’d already attacked a man under our protection, fucked Malakai, challenged Hunter to his face, and somehow convinced Malakai that attaching himself to her schedule was a reasonable use of his time.

I knew what she wanted from us right now. Nichlas. Anything beyond that was still buried beneath whatever she decided to show. Malakai apparently didn’t care.

He freed his hand and stole the highlighter from between Echo’s fingers. She finally looked up from the book, and something about the expression on her face made him grin before she’d even spoken. “Put it back,” she told him, her voice almost conversational. “I’m trying very hard to respect Hunter’s no-blood-in-the-lounge rule.”

Hunter’s pen stopped against the paper on his desk. It was brief, but I’d been watching him nearly as long as I’d been watching Echo. His jaw had been tight for most of the afternoon, pulling harder whenever Malakai folded himself into her corner or Echo put her hands on him to move him. Hunter hadn’t told either of them to stop. He hadn’t even looked up often enough for Malakai to notice how much attention he was paying, which made it more interesting than if he’d simply been irritated by the noise.

Malakai slid the highlighter behind his ear. “That rule doesn’t exist.”

“It will after I open your throat on his carpet.”

“See, this is why I like you.” He leaned down far enough to put his face beside hers, shamelessly close while Echo’s fingers tightened around the edge of her textbook. “You’re always trying to solve things.”