Malice leaned even closer. Brushing his cheek along mine, he whispered in my ear. "Tell me to leave again and I'll take you with me," he threatened. Even though his voice was soft and tender, I felt a spike of fear turn my veins frosty.
I swallowed. Grams slowly exited her bedroom and started walking toward us, a smile on her face. I quickly whispered to Malice, "Please don't let her know that I'm working for you."
Malice didn't seem like the type of man who would listen to my pleas, but I just had to hope. "It's you again," Grams stuttered. She looked him up and down while stroking her chin. "Nicholas, right? You stopped by last week to drop off something for Juliet."
It was such an odd experience. I watched Malice's expression twist into this friendly, inviting look that made my heart stall. His smile was genuine. His eyes looked kind. He was a beautiful actor. If you didn't know any better, you would have never seen the death, destruction, and danger underneath. "I was in the area and decided to stop by and see you before your trip. Do you have everything you need, Ruthie?"
Ruthie? I rolled my eyes. Great.
She beamed at him. "Oh yes. I’m all packed and ready to go. I’m so excited! My flight leaves early in the morning."
"Should we go to the kitchen?" Grams asked. She paused for a moment, her hand shaking at her side. "Juliet made…made…cook. Cookies."
Grams was having a fairly good day, so hearing her stutter made me internally panic. Maybe she didn’t need to leave? Grams kept eyeing me, and I couldn't tell if she was nervous about all the activity or if it was something else. Malice had this instinctive quality about him that made your skin light up with fear. I couldn’t blame her if she was afraid of him.
But then my suspicions took a completely different turn when Grams winked. Winked! It was a mischievous move, and I started to wonder if she had different plans for Malice and me.
"That sounds lovely. I didn't know you could bake, Juliet?" he said while looking at me.
"There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me," I snapped back. And I wanted to keep it that way. If I wanted to survive, then I needed to keep this dangerous man at arm’s length.
Malice led the way into the kitchen. He led the way everywhere.
Grams hooked her arm around me and whispered in my ear. "Oh, he likes you. So handsome. I’ll b-be on my best behavior."
He sat down in our secondhand kitchen chair with scuffed white paint and a shaky wooden leg. Grams insisted on getting the platter of cookies. I watched with bated breath as she turned to grab it with both hands. She focused on the plate, and I focused on not grabbing Malice by his ear and tearing him out of our home. His kindness came at a cost. I needed to figure out what his ulterior motive was.
While she was distracted, Malice wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me close so that he could whisper in my ear. "Stop being so difficult, or I’ll tell your sweet grandmother what I do know about you. I’ve seen you at your truest self. Don’t forget who has the power here."
A shiver traveled down my spine. "What are you doing here?" I asked.
He stared at me and bit his bottom lip before releasing his hold on my wrist and letting me go. I waited for him to tell me what he meant by that, but an explanation never came.
Grams set the plate down with a loud clang and chuckled. "Chocolate chip. My favorite. I’d offer some milk, but we’re out."
Malice’s earlier words haunted me.
"I got a good look at your refrigerator. It’s all cheap, quick meals. Not quite the sustenance I’d like for you."
He looked out of place in our dated home with his designer suit. "This looks lovely," he began. "Thank you."
I sat down beside him, but I didn't have any appetite. Grams was giddy. It was rare that I brought anyone home to meet her. I’d had friends and boyfriends over the years, but no one, aside from Vicky, seemed important enough to bring home. If Vicky hadn’t been living such a dangerous double life, I probably would've brought her here to meet Grams, but otherwise, this was my sacred place. I was cautious about whom I let into my life. I was cautious about whom I cared for, too. Maybe it was my abandonment issues rearing their ugly head, but Grams was my person. I didn't just introduce her to anyone.
"Remind me again, how do you know my granddaughter?" Grams asked. Her voice had steadied some now that we were sitting. The kitchen was her domain. Even though she had stopped cooking as often since her Parkinson's diagnosis, she still thrived in this room. Heck, I got the sex talk while she was making my favorite chocolate cake.
I worried about what Malice would say. "I met her at the diner. I’m a bit of a regular, and we built up somewhat of a friendship."
It took every ounce of self-restraint that I possessed not to roll my eyes at him. "Well, you have quite a unique friendship. To give my granddaughter a new cell phone suggests that you’re closer than acquaintances. Forgive me if I’m poking, but it's rare that my granddaughter introduces me to any of her…friends."
At this information, Malice preened. It was like he was having unfiltered access to the nuances of my life. It was intrusive, and yet I wasn't uncomfortable. Maybe if Malice knew how alone I was, he would trust me more.
"Well, I feel honored to be in Juliet's life," he said smoothly. I tried to sense if he was being sarcastic or teasing, but I found no hint of a lie. "I guess you could say I've taken on a particular interest in her well-being. I have a large family, it's second nature to me to care for the people in my life."
At his words, Grams smiled even bigger. She had no idea that she was being swindled by the devil. "That is just lovely. In fact, I'm glad that Juliet has someone. I’ve been anxious about going out of town for the next month, and it is quite a relief to know that someone will be here to look after her."
Malice looked at me and placed a heavy hand on top of mine. Grams stared at where our skin touched. "I promise to take very good care of Juliet while you're gone," he said earnestly. I didn’t believe him for a second.
I stayed silent as Grams and Malice went into a long conversation about Palm Springs and Aunt Agnes. He was so smooth and gentle with my grandmother. Whenever she trembled or stumbled over her words, he patiently waited for her to find her sentence again. He was polite. Kind. It was almost like sitting next to a completely different person. I didn't recognize him, nor did I want to. I didn't want to believe that there was a side to this monster that could be nice.
"Palm Springs is in Southern California, right? I used to go to Los Angeles with my mother when we were kids. We’d go to a theme park and ride rides until we puked. My mother loved it. Some of my favorite memories happened there," Malice said with a smile. I was leaning so close to him that we almost touched. Hearing his version of their parents was new for me. I knew the man and woman Vicky missed dearly, but who were they to Malice?
"Oh, she sounds wonderful. Does she live in the area?" Grams asked.
At her question, a flash of the tortured Malice broke through his carefully constructed mask. It was a quick, vulnerable moment, but I recognized it clearly. "She passed away three years ago. I hope one day to bring my future children to the theme park there to keep her memory alive."