Page 93 of Phantom Faceoff
“I don’t need it to be.”
His heavy sigh fills the silence, and I resist the urge to reach out and touch him.
“Um, okay. I guess … I had this boyfriend of sorts when I was like sixteen, seventeen. His name was Mack. He was one of the kids in our group home.”
He wraps his arms around himself and aims his eyes at the ground beneath him.
“Mack was this … enigmatic force. Loud. Demanding. If you were on his good side, he made you feel secure in a way most of us had never had in the system.”
He releases a trembled breath.
“The couple in charge of the home, they loved him. He was their shiny, golden foster kid. They used him as an example to get more kids placed with them. If you got in with Mack, you were safe. If you didn’t then he made your life hell.”
Julian is the first to break the silent truce, grabbing hold of Malachi’s hand and squeezing it so tight their knuckles turn white.
“I knew that. I knew how he was. We’d been there longer than him, so for a while he left us alone. But one day he started … picking away at Julian. Small jabs. Getting him in trouble for things he didn’t do. I caught Julian in the hall closet crying one day and … I lost it.”
Malachi leans his head back on the tree and puts on a small smile.
“I confronted Mack, ready to start the biggest fight and get myself kicked out—and I would have taken Julian with me. We would have ran away at the first sign of Mack laying a hand on him. But that didn’t happen. No. I picked a fight alright, but Mack didn’t fight back.”
His eyes go a little glassy, breathing becoming more labored.
“He kissed me, and … I’d never been kissed like that before. Mack managed to enthrall me. Convince me that he was onlyhard on kids because the people and places outside would be harder, and he promised that he’d lay off Julian. Admitted that it wasn’t fair, that he wasjealousof our friendship.”
That one thing I can understand. Julian and Malachi are the kind of close that can make you feel insecure. Though all I’ve ever felt when it comes to their relationship ispeace.
“Long story short, we started seeing each other. In secret. In private. No one could know he was gay—or bi. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you his sexuality because I don’t think he was ever attracted to a person. He was attracted to control. And I let him control me. Because I …”
The look on Malachi’s face can only be described as self hatred, and seeing him this beaten down breaks my fucking heart.
“I fell in love with him. And I didn’t see all of the ways that he … hurt me. Like having sex when I wasn’t ready. Hurting me when we did. Using my protectiveness of Julian to make me do things. Things I’m not proud of. Things that got me beat. That got me … raped.”
The world becomes a colony of buzzing bees living right in my eardrum. Within seconds, I’m the one that’s crying, the one who Julian leans over Malachi to reach, to drag into a hug where his arms envelope us both. Mine go around the two of them, and neither of us question Malachi’s arms still lying like lead in his lap.
“Guys.” His laugh is a wet sound. “I don’t like talking about it, so I can’t go into detail, alright? It happened. I got a shit ton of issues from it. They’re mine to deal with.”
“Not true.” I knock my forehead on his and wait until his eyes rise to meet mine. “We won’t let you go through it alone. We’re your boys. We support you just like you support us.”
His lip wobbles. His eyes glisten. Then, his hands come up to grip the back of our necks.
“The day Mack left the home—” his breath is barely above a whisper, “—I told Jules I’d never let anyone hurt us again.”
And so became the birth of Big Bad Wolf Malachi.
“But you, Wildfire,” the words, along with his lips, brush my cheek, “you and all you’re stubbornness wouldn’t leave us alone.”
I still won’t, but I don’t think I have to tell him that.
“You don’t have to run,” I tell him. “If you panic, or if you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me. If you need space, you can tell me. My ego isn’t as big as you think.”
“No, but your mouth is,” he mumbles, and I know it’s supposed to be an insult, but I laugh anyway.
“You love my mouth.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, and when I go to pull away, he grips my head in both his hands and moves in for a longer, slower kiss.
“I loveyou,” he says, and just like the first time my heart picks up like it’s running a marathon.
We end up in each other’s arms, kissing and breathing each other in, hands exploring gentle and slow above our clothes. Malachi ducks his head when he needs to catch his breath, and lets out a low, slightly stilted chuckle.
