Arrogantly Obsessed: Those Malcolm Boys Book 3

by KL Donn

  “What?”

  “Whoa, boss, who pissed in your corn flakes?” one of my foreman’s jokes, not realizing how pissed I am.

  “What do you need, Todd?” I grind out.

  “Just wanted to let you know today is our last day on the Jefferson site. The crew is cleaning up our equipment now before the owners get home and I take them on a walkthrough.” This is good news but does nothing to alleviate my anger.

  “Good. I’ll see you when you get back.” Hanging up, I have one less thing to stress about. The Jeffersons asked for an eight-week timeline when we told them the project would take ten. They were remodeling two levels of their home. Even after running into multiple issues with electrical and piping, we were going to finish in the eight weeks they asked for. Then four weeks into the project, they demanded their house back at six weeks. No matter how many times I told them it was impossible, they didn’t care. I relented, told the guys they were getting a shit ton of money and doubled the Jefferson’s bill.

  Tomorrow is the final day of the six weeks. Todd’s crew has been working fourteen-plus-hour days for weeks, and now that they’re finished, they’ll be getting one week’s paid holiday for their hard work. Many people think I’m crazy for doing things like that, but I learned early in the industry that when you treat your workers right, they get the job done. I haven’t had anyone complain about extra cash in their pockets or paid vacations, and my company’s reputation is unsurpassed in the industry across the eastern states.

  I have seven full-time crews and three part-time. My full-timers have a steady stream of jobs and are never wanting for more. The part-timers get called in about eight months of the year for the overflow during the spring and summer.

  I’m proud of the work we do, the company I’ve built from the ground up. Until I met Delilah, I had no idea I was even missing anything in my life. I’ve teased my brothers, Cross and Crux, about falling hard for their wives, but the minute Delilah walked into my office, I knew exactly how they felt. Because I feel it with her. Losing Delilah to some asshole named Matt isn’t an option.

  I need her like I need air to breathe.

  Delilah

  * * *

  Staring at the restaurant I’m meeting Matt at, I’m three minutes early and debating on leaving. I’ve never done a blind date before, and the unknowns about my suitor is finally bothering me. I thought I would be okay because it’s a public place, but all I can think about is my father and the women he killed.

  How did he lure them?

  Were they feeling what I am right now?

  Did they even suspect he was a serial killer?

  Logically, I know I’m only freaking myself out more with my thoughts circling the drain, but emotionally, in my heart, I know I also have a right to these fears. Irrational as they may be, the world is a scary place, and not everyone is as personable as they portray themselves to be.

  They’re not as evil as my father is either.

  And it’s that thought that gives me a few moments of strength to exit my car and walk into the restaurant before I talk myself out of it again. Greeted by a bustling lunch crowd, I take a second to orient myself and have a look around before stepping up to the hostess station.

  “Welcome.” The woman smiles at me as she looks up.

  “I’m meeting someone. I’m not sure if he’s here yet. Matt, table for two?” My fingers fidget at my side as she looks at her tablet.

  “Yup, he arrived a moment ago. Right this way.” Crossing something off, she leads the way to the back of the dining area, where I see who I assume is Matt sitting at a back corner table for two.

  Noticing us walking his way, he stands up with a warm smile on his face. “Your server will be by in a few minutes to get your drink order.” The hostess leaves after that.

  “Delilah?” he asks, and I nod. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Matt.” Holding out my chair, I get a closer look at his smiling face, and there’s something about his eyes that feels…off.

  “Nice to meet you too. This place sure is popular,” I say to hide my nerves as my companion sits across from me.

  “Yeah. Have you been here before?” I shake my head as Matt picks up a menu.

  An awkward silence falls over us. Or maybe it’s only me that it feels awkward for because he appears relaxed. I suddenly wish I had a friend who could get me out of this date like in all the romantic comedy movies I’ve seen where dates go wrong.

  As the server comes by, I can see she’s frazzled from the crowd, and I get the feeling she’s new here as she tries to gather her pen and pad to take our order. “Hi there, I’m Abby. Can I start you off with some drinks?” I hear Matt huff and briefly look over to see him rolling his eyes and lifting his water glass to show her he’s already got a drink. With a tight smile, she looks back at me.

  “I’ll have a coffee, please, just black.” She scatters off, and I sit here, contemplating walking out on this man. Matt was kind of nice while texting with him, but I have to say I’m entirely disappointed.

  Which Crew is going to love. And rub in my face.

  Dragging out my phone, I debate texting him as I stare down at the small device. Sticking it back in my purse, I decide not to and, instead, attempt a conversation with Matt. “So, Matt, what do you do for work?” Pushing my menu to the side, I already know what I’ll be having and hope he gets the hint that this was supposed to be a date and not him being rude to everyone around him.

  “Huh? Oh, I dabble in a few things.” He barely glances at me.

  “Anything interesting?” The server is back with my coffee.

  “Were you ready to order, or should I come back?” she asks a bit timidly.

  Matt slams his menu down and glares at her as he hisses, “Couldn’t you see we were talking? Are you always this rude?”

  Taken aback by his attitude, the girl apologizes and rushes away with tears in her young eyes.

  “That was extremely rude.” I can’t believe his audacity. Standing up, I turn my back on him while walking away and finding the girl. After handing her ten dollars for the coffee and insisting she keeps the change, I leave. I figured this would be a terrible idea, but I wanted so badly to just be normal. If that entails being rude to people, then, frankly, I want no part of it.

  Unlocking my car, I open it, and I’m about to get in when I feel an unyielding grip on my arm as I’m spun around. Surprised, I drop my purse and watch as a few things slip out.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Matt snarls in my face, his hold bruising with its intensity.

  “Let me go,” I hiss as I try to pull away.

  “No, you don’t get to be a fucking cunt to me and walk away.” I can see it now. What I saw earlier and thought was off. He’s filled with rage. The exact same rage as my father. I can see his hatred for women in his eyes as they blaze with fire.

  “Let. Me. Go.” I can feel multiple stares on us now, and I know he does too because he releases me so abruptly that my back and shoulders hit the roof of my car hard.

  Leaning in close, he slams his lips over mine, and I struggle to turn my head away as he bites down on my bottom lip so roughly that when he finally pulls away, I can feel it throbbing as blood rushes to the surface. “I’ll see you again, Delilah Henderson.”

  As he walks away, I drop to the ground to pick up my things and jump in my car. Slamming the door shut and locking it, I don’t hesitate to start the engine and head back to the office on autopilot. Terrified and weary, I want to go home, but I’m afraid to. His parting words run through my head on sick replay until I’m parking and making a mad dash for the office door. Pushing it shut behind me, I lock it for the first time since working here.

  “Hey, how was lunch?” I hear Crew call from a distance and immediately know he’s going to come see me. Sprinting to my office, I toss my purse on my desk and slip into the bathroom, locking the door again and leaning against the frame. “Li? Everything alright?” I can hear the concern in his tone
as he enters the room, and as I gaze into the mirror, I know it’s only going to get so much worse when he sees me.

  My bottom lip is swollen and bloody. The bruise on my arm from Matt’s grip highlights his fingerprints, and I shudder to think of what my back looks like.

  “Li, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming in.” I know he means it, but I can’t speak. Words are stuck in my throat as I realize how battered and beaten up I appear right now. I have to face him, he’s my boss, and sometimes I think he’s my friend. But after this morning, I also know that Crew wants to be so much more, and he’ll react more like a jealous lover than a rational businessman.

  “Delilah!” he shouts, right outside the door now.

  Turning, I rest my forehead against the door and speak quietly. “I just wanted normal. I wanted nice.”

  “Open the door, baby, tell me what happened.” His voice has softened an octave.

  As I flip the lock, he’s opening the door before I can, and instantly, he takes me into his arms. A comforting embrace because, as a man who takes care of those around him, he knows when a soft touch is required. He holds me for a few minutes before pulling away, and I can’t imagine what I look like when he lifts my chin.

  His dark eyes go from concern to red-hot rage in a flash.

  Crew

  * * *

  “I’ll fucking kill him.” I knew as soon as she didn’t answer my first question that something was wrong, but I had no idea, no inkling as to how bad it was. The motherfucker bit her lip so hard his teeth marks are imprinted in her skin. I can see a handprint on her arm, and with the stiff way she’s holding herself, I’d hazard a guess that there’s more. “What the hell happened, Li?” Keeping my tone neutral is difficult but not impossible.

  “I don’t…” She starts and stops as her emotions get the best of her. “I don’t know.” Swooping her up into my arms, I take her into my office, where I have an oversized couch, and sit with her in my lap. Laying her head on my chest, I try to remain calm. To keep my cool. When all I want to do is find this asshole and bury his living body under a layer of cement.

  “It’s okay, Li. I’ve got you.” My words mean nothing right now, but it’s all I’ve got for her. “Everything will be okay.” Her head shakes as her tiny fists grip my flannel shirt so tightly, she pulls it from my jeans. “Where else did he hurt you?” I ask quietly, knowing there’s always somewhere else with guys like him.

  “My back. When he let my arm go, he shoved me into my car.” She’s so fucking delicate that I can only imagine what her skin looks like.

  “Show me,” I command, helping her to her feet. Delilah is shy as she turns around and pulls the zipper on the side of her dress down. As soon as the material begins to drop, I can see the bruising has already started just across her shoulder blades from one side of her body to the other. In a few hours, this is really going to be hurting her.

  Pulling off my flannel shirt, I wrap it around her body and pull the dress all the way down to her feet. Helping her place her arms in, I reach around her front to do up the buttons. With gentle hands, I spin her back around to face me. Cupping her cheek, I lean down and kiss the tear tracks on her face.

  Guiding Li back to the couch, I encourage her to lie down. “Close your eyes for a bit. I have some things I need to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.” Her frightened eyes meet mine, and I shake my head. “My home, little phoenix. If you think I’m letting you out of my line of sight again, you’re very mistaken.” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, I grab the ridiculous blanket she insisted I needed to have on the back of this couch off and tuck her in.

  Cuddling into the soft fabric, she watches me until the exhaustion from her fear forces her eyes to close and sleep encompasses her. For a few minutes anyways.

  Striding to her office, I dig through her purse for her phone. If this asshole thinks he can treat her this way and get away with it, he’s dead fucking wrong. Opening her phone, I pull up her messages and see the quick conversations she’s had with this dickhead. Nothing appears alarming in the way he speaks to her, so I go to his Tinder profile, and the smug smile on his picture only makes me want to knock his teeth down his throat more than I currently do.

  Picking up the phone, I give my brother Crux’s best friend a call. The young lawyer has swiftly gained the trust of my entire family with his quick thinking and out-of-the-box ideas.

  “Yeah?” he answers on the first ring.

  “Zack, it’s Crew Malcolm.” I barely get the words out before he’s cursing.

  “How much bail money do you need?” I can almost hear the eyeroll.

  “None. I’m sending you the bare-bones information on an abusive asshole. I need to know everything.” Hitting send on the email from my phone, I watch Delilah sleep.

  “What happened?” His question is distracted as he obviously received my message.

  Blowing out a deep breath, I try not to lose it. “The bastard put his hands on my assistant.”

  “You have an assistant?” he jokes because he knows I don’t get along with most people.

  “Delilah Henderson. She’s worked with me for six months now.” Too long not to be mine as far as I’m concerned.

  “No shit.” He whistles, sounding surprised.

  “What?” I bark a little harsher than intended.

  “Nothing, just haven’t heard her name in a long time.” Frowning, I sit up straighter.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Seriously?” I nod at Zack’s response, waiting for him to continue. “She’s Oliver Henderson’s daughter.” I wait for the punchline because the name isn’t familiar to me. “Jesus. Miami’s infamous Eighth Avenue Killer. He slaughtered like thirteen young girls before being caught. The images I saw, the victims looked almost identical to Delilah, and when the police burst through his front door, he nearly killed her in an effort to escape.”

  “Holy fuck,” I mutter as I hang up the phone.

  Staring at Delilah as she sleeps on my couch, I expected that she had a dark past because of the scars that were revealed earlier. I had no idea it was this dark, however. It’s not that I don’t recognize the name Oliver Henderson, more that I only remember him as the name the media dubbed him, and I get the feeling that’s the same for a lot of people.

  A fucking serial killer’s daughter.

  Christ. I can’t tease Crux and Cross about picking broken girls anymore because mine takes the highest honors in that department, and I’m damn well going to make sure that she’s never harmed again.

  Chapter 4

  Crew

  Thirteen girls.

  Nearly identical to Delilah.

  Golden blonde hair, bright blue eyes. Rounded cheeks and naturally red lips.

  It’s uncanny how similar the resemblance is.

  The more I learn about Li’s father, the more I want to kill him too. Nearly murdering Delilah when she was only eleven because he was a piece of shit is pathetic. The more I look into her small family, the more insight I gain on Delilah and why she’s so shy. Why she pushes when I try to pull. Reading about her mother’s accidental death and seeing the images of the woman, I can see that the girls Henderson butchered were surrogates for the mother of his child and not Delilah like the media has speculated for years but has never been confirmed or denied.

  I can’t imagine the uncertainty she must feel about her father. Why he did what he did and to who.

  “Crew?” Her soft voice draws my eyes away from the computer screen to her sitting up and stretching.

  “How do you feel?” Closing the device, I stand up and stride over to Li. Sitting beside her, I gently push a few strands of stray hair behind her ear, feeling a softness towards her that I had no idea I was capable of.

  Shrugging, she picks at the invisible lint on the blanket still covering her lap. “It doesn’t feel real, I guess. Like it was just an awful dream.” As her eyes lift to meet mine, the fear I see only makes me want to lock her in a tower. High
away from this undeserving world.

  Cupping my hand around the base of her neck, I pull her closer, laying a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’s going to be okay now, Li,” I try to reassure her. “Ready to get out of here?” I ask. I heard back from Zack a bit ago, and he’s doing a complete background check on this Matt person because he’s got a gut feeling that the guy isn’t on the up and up.

  “Sure, I just need to get my things.” As she stands, I follow along behind her, keeping a distance that doesn’t make my hands itch to hold her. I don’t want her more than a foot away from me at any time, but I get the feeling that once she’s feeling better, she’ll have something to say about that.

  Watching as her hips sway under my shirt, leading down her long legs to her slender feet, my dick jumps. Unable to control the physical reaction I have to Delilah, I adjust the prick behind my jeans. Digging through her purse, I frown when she pulls out her car keys. There’s no way I’m allowing her to drive.

  “You don’t need those,” I point out. I’ll be her damn chauffeur from now on.

  “How else am I going to get home?” Her eyes slim into slits as she looks back at me.

  Stepping forward, I place my hands on her shoulders and spin her around to face me. Slowly moving my hands up to her face, I hold her gently. “Delilah, I’m not letting you out of my sight any fucking time soon. Where you go, I go. Where I go, you go. There is nothing else. No in-between. No negotiating. You and I are it. I told you my intentions this morning; what happened this afternoon only changes things in the sense of how protective I will become of you.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” She looks away.