Page 37 of Toxic B!tch

Malik is still at the bar, his glass half-full. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t wavered. Just sat there, watching, waiting.

For me.

"You sticking around just to make sure I don’t get murdered in the parking lot, or do you secretly enjoy my company?" I slide onto the stool next to him, tilting my head.

His lips twitch. "Little of both."

"Romantic."

"Practical." He leans in, his presence swallowing the space between us. "You wanna head home?" His voice is casual, but the heat in his eyes is anything but.

That look—it should make me run.

But I don’t.

"Yeah. Take me home, big guy."

I grab my bag, the deer skull, and let him lead me out.

And as we step into the night, I wonder if he knows he’s leading me somewhere far more dangerous than my house.

Because I’m starting to think Malik is the only thing in this world that could actually ruin me.

And I don’t know if I want to stop him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

INDIGO

The glow of the streetlights bathes my house in a haze as I slide my key into the lock. The click of the deadbolt giving way is a whispered invitation, one that Malik follows, trailing just behind me.

I shrug off my coat and toss it over a chair, then turn to him. His eyes track my movements, watching me the way he did at the bar—like he’s memorizing me, cataloging every shift of muscle, every breath. It should unnerve me. Instead, it makes my skin prickle with something dark and electric.

"Make yourself comfortable," I murmur, voice dipping low, lazy with satisfaction.

But Malik doesn’t move. His gaze flicks to the floor, then the couch, then back to me. His shoulders tighten, his jaw sets.

Something’s wrong.

My spine straightens, instincts sharpening. "What?"

"It's just... Elle."

I hate hearing her name on his lips.

It drips like poison, infecting the air between us, tainting this—this thing we’re building, whatever the fuck it is.

Malik exhales, heavy, like the weight of Elle is still pressing on his chest. Like she still has her claws in him, buried deep, making him doubt himself.

Not on my fucking watch.

I feel it in my teeth, in my bones, in the dark, this coiling thing inside me that doesn’t like to be threatened. Because that’s what she is. Not just some ghost from his past. No. A threat.

And I eliminate threats.

I tip my head, watching him closely.He looks like prey.My big, broad, beautiful man, standing there like he’s waiting for the next hit, like he expects me to say something cruel, to make him feel smaller.

No, baby. I’m nother.