Page 130 of The Deceptions

"You're a sore loser, Macky," Malic says with that unusual grin. He pats me on the shoulder a few times. "And an idiot." His eyes scan the party, and he slumps with some sort of disappointment. "When you realize what you did, you might cry." He chuckles at that, releasing my shoulder. “And I can’t wait to see that. I’ll bring the popcorn!”

Me? Cry? Not in front of them. I'm not ashamed to say I cry from time to time. It's healthy. A release. Something everyone should do to regulate their emotions. Especially that fucker Hux. He's so pent up that he looks constipated. Hmmm. Maybe he needs some chocolate laxative brownies. Again. That'll slow him down and take that expression off his face.

Yeah, yeah. That's what I'll do, whenever I have the damn time.

I smirk at the thought and then realize where I am and who I’m with.

I step out of Malic's reach. "Don't touch me again. Unless it's in the ring."

"Oh, is that a call out?" Malic asks, leaning in slowly. "Because I'd take you up on that. Your brother beat you. I can murder you in the ring."

I grin. "Bring it, Maniac." I snort out his nickname. The one everyone shouts when he steps into the ring. He goes from nonchalant to this crazy fucker. But I'm all for crazy. The more there is, the more blood that's spilled.

"Damn it, Malic," Wilder mumbles, pulling the big guy back with a huff.

Right. He's his keeper. Just like he is with our mom. Her keeper. He's in everyone's business and hasn't learned how to mind his own damn business. Fucker. He even shoved our mom in a home, which she deserves. I don’t know why Wilder constantly takes care of her. She never did the same for us. Franco was the only adult in my entire fucking life to take me in, feed me, put me to bed, and make me feel safe. He may be my prison guard now, holding tight to the reign he has over us, but he’ll never be like my mom’s neglectful ass. At least I have a better chance at life. If only Wilder had come with me back then when I gave him the opportunity, he’d be in a better place.

"You afraid he's going to hurt me? How noble of you," I quip with a snort.

Wilder levels me with that stare. He'd never make a move in public, only in the ring. He has more control over himself than anyone else I've ever known.

"That's not what I'm afraid of," Wilder says, shaking his head. "You're an idiot."

An idiot? That's all he's got for me. I puff out my chest, ready to spout something else, but Malic cuts me off. Asshole.

"You seen your leader? He and I have some fun things to discuss." Malic rubs his hands together menacingly, eyeing the crowds until his eyes light up.

"I'm right here," Hux grits out, stepping up to Malic. All the rage he's feeling oozes out of him. Yes. I'll have to take him into the basement to vent out frustrations on the hanging bag. Bloodied fists, here I come. Hell, maybe Hux will want to do a sparring session. That would be even better. It'd sate this massive black hole consuming me from the inside out.

Violence is the answer. Always. And forever.

"Oh, goody!" Malic grins so widely that I swear it will split his face open. "How about we schedule that rematch?"

"You got so lucky last time," Hux says, narrowing his eyes at Mal.

"Yup. There won't be a win next time," I say tauntingly.

"Do you ever shut your fucking mouth?" Wilder grits out, stepping up to me like he's changed his mind and has decided that we need to fight again. Right here. Right now.

"Not around you." I want to shout in his face or knock him down a peg, but I don't. Being nose to nose with the brother who hates me has my blood pumping and rage boiling deep inside.

"Leave it for the ring," JJ grunts, pulling me back. "Not here."

"Why not?" Wilder asks, shoving the cigarette behind his ear. "We could make this quick and painless. Show my brother how a real man hits. Again." He cracks his knuckles a few times and loosens his muscles, preparing for a battle. “You still got the bruises lining your face.”

"I've already seen how you hit, Pussy," I grit out, attempting to claw my way out of JJ's hold, but the little fucker is too strong.

"He said leave it, Keeper," Malic pipes up, putting a heavy hand on Wilder's shoulder.

That's right. Let your best friend keep you in line.

"Leave it, man," JJ whispers in my ear. "Another time. Not around other people."

Another time. It's always another time bullshit. I need this now. More than ever. I need people to leave this fucking cemetery and leave me with Livy alone. Her and I need to have some words.

"Fine," I grunt, shrugging JJ off again and stepping back, removing myself from the equation. “Go back to JJ,” I huff to Waffles, who follows me at a slower pace. He cocks his head like he’s listening and turns right back around to sit at JJ’s feet.

If I stand here any longer, I'll punch Wilder just for being here. The frat brother who is cleaning up the glass from my beer bottle blows out a breath when I step away from everyone. He must have been on the edge of his seat, waiting for a fight to happen. Not today, asshole. My friends say no.