A cruel smirk spreads across his handsome face. He steps into me and brushes a loose tendril behind my ear. “You’re still mine and no one gets to see your body except me.” He swipes his thumb across my bottom lip, and I shudder. “I told you I would kneel for you, Malia, and I will. But now, only to watch you break and see every shattered piece up close and fucking bathe in it.”
My fist shoots out before he can wipe the smug look off his stupid perfect face and he steps back with a grunt. I don’t care how tough you are, hit in the right spot and that shit hurts. Liam’s eyes water slightly, and I smile while stepping back into him.
I reach out and rub the spot where I hit while he glared down at me. “I might let you take control when your cock is involved, Officer, but don’t think I won’t castrate you for disrespecting me because of your little grudge. I’m not good with patience and you’re wearing what little bit I have very thin.”
I let my hand fall and shoulder past him. It’s not healthy how good it felt to hit him; however, I can’t allow him to think he can control me. That’s not who I am. I give him enough when he fucks me but that’s where I draw the line.
“Mal, wait,” Breckin calls out as I step into the alley. His long legs easily eat up the ground and he wraps his large hand around my upper arm yanking me to a stop. “What the fuck was that shit?”
Liam and I weren’t quick while we were together, so it irks the fuck out of me Breckin is still hanging around to get in my business. Sure, I let the big bastard feel me up on stage, but I knew Liam was here.
I saw him and remembered the jealousy from the ball, I couldn’t help but play on it a bit. I can’t be bothered to care if it was at the expense of Breckin’s feelings, he should have more of a backbone.
I rip my arm from his grip and continue walking toward my car. I don’t have to explain myself to him and fuck him for thinking I do.
“So, you’re still a thing?” he asks me, keeping up with me as I try to ignore him but fail. I’m already pissy and he’s not helping the situation.
I come to a stop and fully face him; his feet slide on the gravel at the suddenness. “Am I still fucking him? Yes, Breck. Do I have feelings for him?” I give him a cruel smile. “More than I ever have for you.”
Boom.
It’s all I heard before the ringing in my ears and the sharp pain that ripples through my body take over. I try to stand up and my limbs betray me, my body crashing back on the hard concrete. My vision blurs in and out while I fight consciousness.
“Mal!” I hear someone calling me, it’s male and familiar. Breckin. I remember talking to Breckin. His voice sounds so far away and frantic. “Baby, hold on you’re bleeding.”
And then everything goes black.
I groan at the sounds of beeping and pain in my head.
“It was embedded rather deep, Nate,” I hear someone say to my dad. “You know Malia, she will be alright.”
My eyes flicker open, and I shut them immediately to avoid the stabbing pain the lights are causing.
“She’s trying to wake up,” Dad says, I can feel his hand brushing hair out of my face. “Baby girl, can you hear me?”
“Daddy,” I rasp then cough from the dryness in my throat. The steady sweep of his loving touch on my head makes my chest pull tight. “What happened?”
I try to open my eyes again and fight against the pain. My dad might be here, but it makes me feel like I’m at a disadvantage and I’m not okay with that.
“Bomb,” my dad clips. “Someone bombed Insatiable while you and Breckin were outside. You were thrown and stabbed in the side by a large piece of glass.”
My dad’s hand shifts from my head to my shoulder when I try to sit up. He presses me back down and I scowl at him.
He raises an eyebrow. “You need to stay lying down, you have a concussion, Malia Alya.” His voice firm holding no room for argument but fuck that.
I brush him off and sit anyway, the room begins to spin and I hiss at the pain at my side.
“It was a clean wound, no glass broke off inside you thankfully. You are stitched up and will need lots of rest after all the blood you lost,” Dr. Delaney says with her chart in hand.
When I’m able to focus, I notice I’m in the infirmary at the mansion. We have an on-site medical room to avoid hospitals. They always end up leaving a paper trail and even though Dad has most people in his pocket, when dealing with a crises such as this, it eliminates the extra work. Delaney is a doctor that he’s had on call for as long as I can remember. She’s never shied away from the gritty side of things she’s had to repair and her crush on my dad keeps her mouth shut.
“Sounds like a party,” I mumble. Dad raises the bed, quickly giving up the fight on trying to keep me down. I sit back when it’s raised enough for my to relax my body.
I take inventory of everything, head is definitely a mess but that’s nothing new, my limbs are sore and stiff however I can move everything. I’m covered in blood, and I can see where the fabric of my shirt is raised showing me the stitches on the side of my stomach. It’s a good size gash and just another scar added to the rest.
“How is your head feeling, Malia?” Delaney asks in her cheery doctor tone.
“Like if you keep talking, I might cut out your tongue,” I grit out. I never much cared for her, but I suppose that’s most people. There’s no way I’d let her try to get her hands on my dad.