Page 76 of Bound By Fury

“I’m sorry,” I say, pointing my words in Lucas’s direction. “I don’t know why he’s like this.”

His easy grin is back, as if that moment never happened. “You know, I feel like I might have a good idea why.”

I widen my eyes, waiting for an elaboration that never comes.

“Actually,” he says, pulling me into his side for a quick hug. “I just remembered I’m supposed to skip this class today. I have physical therapy in prep for the Greensboro game on Friday.”

He leans back and meets my eyes. He doesn’t need words for me to understand what he’s trying to say. You okay?

I nod my head.

“Call me later?”

With one last, lingering look at his cousin, Lucas takes off down the hall.

Malachi scoffs, his voice pitching high as he mocks, “Call me later.”

I roll my eyes, pushing past him as I enter the classroom. I walk quickly, but his legs are longer and he speeds around me, his shoulders dipping, a confident, almost intimidatingly tough gait born of overcompensating for his prosthesis. He abandons his usual seat for the one right behind mine.

“Can I help you?” I sneer as I slip into the chair, dropping my bag to the floor with a thud. I twist to face him.

There’s a deep ache building in the back of my head, and I wince as I meet two beautifully vicious eyes and a snarl to match.

“Odds you’re making a giant mistake by getting involved with Lucas.” His voice is smooth like velvet, but it burns like dry ice.

“I’m not playing that stupid game right now,” I snap.

His eyebrows lower. “One in one.”

I kiss my teeth. “Why do you even care?”

Malachi’s eyes drop to my lips, his shoulder lifting into a lazy shrug. “Your boyfriend sucks.” He slouches back in his chair, stretching his legs until they rest on either side of me.

I make a face even though I feel the heat of his gaze spreading across my chest and throat. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Malachi shrugs. “I wouldn’t care even if he was.”

I can’t take this anymore. This squirrelly back and forth with him. I don’t know what kind of dance we’re doing, but I don’t like it.

More seriously, I say, “When are we going to talk about what happened?”

“What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” I scoff, repeating his question back to him. “Lucas told me everything.”

At this Malachi sits up again, his shoulders tensing. “What do you mean he told you everything?”

“He told me about the fight you had with your dad the morning I was supposed to leave. That you were going to come say goodbye like always. He told me your dad made you go with him… and then the accident…”

His eyes darken at the mention.

“I don’t want to talk about the accident with you.” His voice is deathly quiet.

My palms sting in response to his withering glare.

“It’s not… I know what I said, but you know it’s not your fault, right? Lexie—”

He slams his hand onto the table as he leans forward. “Don’t talk about her.”