Free Web NovelChapter 121: Chapter 121 - The Confrontation
Malcolm’s POV
They ate in silence.
The clink of spoons against ceramic came steady and repetitive, a small, domestic sound that grounded Malcolm as he lifted another bite to his mouth. The food was hot, over seasoned, heavy with oil. He chewed without really tasting it, jaw working slowly, deliberately, as his eyes moved instead, tracking the room in practiced arcs.
Three tables near the wall.
Two exits.
One server who lingered too long.
Nothing immediate.
Across from him, Iyisha ate more carefully, slower than usual. He noticed the way she favored one side when she leaned forward, the slight stiffness in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before. She reached for a piece of meat, fingers closing around it, and winced before she could stop herself.
It was small.
Automatic.
His jaw tightened.
Bruises.
The weight of it settled low in his gut, uncomfortable in a way he didn’t indulge. He took another bite, chewing steadily, forcing the motion to remain even.
Iyisha brought the food to her mouth, teeth catching it, chewing slowly. The red tip of her tongue licked the sauce on her upper lip. The movement was mundane. Casual.
His body reacted anyway.
The response was immediate and unwelcome, heat stirring low, muscle tightening as memory tried to surface uninvited. Not the night in full. Just fragments. Mouth. Pressure. Sound. Enough to trip instinct before thought caught up.
Annoyance followed just as fast.
He adjusted in his seat, shifting his weight, grounding himself through posture, through control. He forced his focus outward again, counting breaths, counting seconds, letting the reaction fade without acknowledgment.
He swallowed and took another bite, deliberately slower this time, anchoring himself in the act of eating.
Across the room, someone laughed. A chair scraped. A spoon dropped and clattered loudly against the floor. Ordinary sounds. Safe sounds.
Iyisha reached for her glass next, hesitated, then completed the motion with care. He noted it, the way her hand shook just slightly before steadying. He reached for the salt and slid it closer to her without looking, a small adjustment that reduced the stretch.
She used it without comment.
Good.
He finished chewing and set his spoon down briefly, fingers resting against the table, knuckles flexing once before relaxing. Last night had happened because he had let himself be distracted.
He was not himself entirely last night and it annoyed him.
Scott came in smiling.
"Malcolm," Scott said, like nothing happened.
Malcolm’s jaw set immediately.
The anger was already there, sharp and controlled, sitting just under his skin where he kept things that didn’t belong in public. The drinks. The fog. The loss of clarity he had not agreed to.
Fucking Scott gonna get what he deserves.
Scott crossed the room but as he shifted his stance, the fabric moved aside enough for the prosthetic to catch the light.
Clean lines. Polished metal. Impossible to miss.
The memory snapped back into place just as quickly as it had come.
Scott hitting him hard enough to knock him sideways.Malcolm going down into dirt and noise.The shot cracking a second later.
Scott going down instead.
Blood soaking through uniform fabric. Scott gritting his teeth, teeth bared in something like a grin even then, telling him to move, to get up, to finish it.
The leg never came back.
He showed his prosthetic on purpose. Malcolm snickered.
He pushed back from the table and stood. Chairs scraped as he moved past Scott, fingers closing around his jacket without ceremony.
"Outside," Malcolm said.
Scott laughed as he was hauled toward the glass doors, not resisting, just letting himself be dragged. "Easy there," he said lightly. "You’re going to get complaints roughing up the disabled guy."
Malcolm didn’t answer. He shoved the door open and pulled Scott through, out onto the open ground beyond the restaurant, away from people, away from ears. He released him only once they were clear, turning to face him, expression hard, contained.
Scott straightened, unbothered, and smirked.
"Your lady’s glowing," he said, glancing back through the glass toward Iyisha. "Guess you got pretty busy last night."
"She’s not my girl," Malcolm muttered.
Scott’s brows lifted, impressed. "Huh. You did got busy." He chuckled. "Malcolm, Malcolm. Always pulling them in without committing."
Malcolm shot him a look sharp enough to cut.
Scott lifted both hands in mock surrender. "Okay. Okay." His tone shifted, just enough. "I’m sorry."
He exhaled and glanced aside. "I might’ve had too much fun last night. I wanted to see if it’d affect you. Heard you got trained for drugs, right?" His eyes flicked back. "Agency stuf?"
Malcolm clicked his tongue quietly and looked away, irritation tightening his jaw. "You crossed a line."
Scott grinned, unapologetic but not careless. "Yeah. Maybe." He clapped his hands once, changing the subject with the ease of someone who knew when to stop pushing. "But your cars are done," he said. "Fueled. Stocked. Everything you’ll need."
As if that balanced the scales.
Malcolm didn’t respond right away.
Scott didn’t drop the smile.
"Stay longer," he said lightly, like it was already decided.
Malcolm shot him a flat look.
Scott leaned back against the railing, casual, eyes sharp beneath the grin. "You went MIA," he said. "If someone identified you, you’ll be detained. They’re doing sweeps right now around the area. Checkpoints too."
Malcolm clicked his tongue and looked away, irritation tightening his jaw. His eyes drifted back through the glass to Iyisha, still seated inside.
Scott followed his gaze. "Don’t tell me you’re both criminals."
Malcolm stayed silent.
He knew what he was. What files would still light up if the wrong system pinged his name. Iyisha—
He cut the thought off before it could finish.
"How long?" Malcolm asked.
Scott’s smile thinned just a little. "A week," he said. "Sometimes longer."
"Longer when what?" Malcolm asked.
"When the place gets flagged," Scott replied. "If someone reports activity nearby, they tighten it up. More patrols. More checkpoints. More sweeps."
Malcolm’s eyes stayed on him, sharp, suspicious.
The timing felt too neat.
Scott caught the look immediately and let out a short laugh. "No," he said, already shaking his head. "Don’t even start. I’m innocent."
Malcolm didn’t answer.
Scott lifted one hand like he was swearing an oath. "I don’t have anything to do with it. I swear. Route doesn’t poke the military like that."
Malcolm still didn’t look convinced.
Scott dropped his hand and shrugged. "If I were going to stir trouble, I’d make it worth the effort."
Malcolm exhaled slowly through his nose.
Scott studied him for a beat, then shrugged. "Come on," he said, brightening again. "Lay low here. You can hang out with me."
Malcolm groaned under his breath. He had not missed this part of Scott. The jokes. The pushing. The way he refused to let tension sit untouched.
"We don’t have time," Malcolm said.
Scott tilted his head. "You don’t have a choice either."
Malcolm weighed the risk of moving.
"Fine," he said at last.
Scott grinned. "Knew you’d see it my way."
Malcolm shot him a look. "Don’t push it."
Scott lifted his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. "Hey. I’m being helpful."
Malcolm didn’t believe him.
But Scott was right.
They didn’t have another option.
