Chapter 33: *CHAPTER 33*

Malcolm was a masochist. A sadist of the worst kind. I pushed my shaking legs to keep going, willing air I couldn't manage to find into my lungs. I trailed behind Malcolm and Caleb's sweaty backs, cursing Malcolm in my mind for all I was worth. Malcolm for his part, called out commands at me over his shoulder, my self-appointed drill sergeant.

"Faster."

"Straighten your back."

"Breath in through your nose, out through your mouth."

"Knees up, Montgomery."

I followed along behind them, vision blurring, mouth dry. I barely suppressed another bout of nausea, willing myself to die on the spot just to spite him. After about forty minutes of this torture, he must have been tired of dragging along at my sluggish pace because Malcolm instructed me to cool down while they made another loop around the neighborhood. I slowed to a walk, wiping beads of sweat from my forehead.

I couldn't believe I'd been worried about that psychopath, Malcolm, last night. I breathed through a cramp behind my ribs and looped back to the Pembroke's driveway to collapse on their manicured lawn. Much too soon, Malcolm and Caleb made their last loop of the neighborhood, coming to a stop in front of where I lay in the grass sucking in air.

Caleb pulled his t-shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead, another grin overtaking his face as he eyed where I'd collapsed on the grass. He picked up a water bottle he'd left on the porch and walked over to hand it to me, "Good work, Kassie."

I sat up on shaky arms to suck down the blessedly cold water, wiping where it had leaked onto the corner of my mouth. Malcolm stood over me, looking down at me utterly unimpressed, "Four miles wasn't too horrible for your first run," he said, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

First run? "You're more insane than I thought if you think I'm doing that again."

He ignored me, that same evil glint I'd seen earlier overtaking his eyes, "Now, sit up. It's time for push-ups."

Another twenty minutes later, I stumbled into the kitchen wondering if it would be worth the risk of the Curse to strike Malcolm down on the spot. I might have tried if I thought I could lift my arms. I trudged behind Malcolm and Caleb, heart still pounding from the grueling workout I'd just been put through, to get more water from the kitchen.

Jenna stood at the sink in her scrubs when we came around the corner, a smile overtaking her face when she saw us, "Good work out kids?"

"Great," Caleb sent an amused grin at me as I sucked down more water.

"There's coffee here if you want it, I've got to run to the hospital. Got called in for an accident. But love you all, see you tonight." Jenna squeezed each of our shoulders as she rushed to the garage, coffee thermos in hand, keys jangling as she rushed to the garage.

Malcolm eyed me from across the kitchen as I went to pour myself a mug of coffee, "Might want to cut back on the caffeine too. For your heart."

I saw red. I may have let him trick me into running with him, but I drew the line at coffee, "Bring up my caffeine intake again and you'll have your own health to worry about." I threatened.

Caleb laughed, finding a sports drink in the spotless stainless steel fridge, "It's not like you don't drink coffee like it's water too Malcolm."

Malcolm grunted, non-committal, but thankfully he let any other talk of my health drop after that. He stood at the stove, looking over his phone. I leaned heavily against the shining quartz countertop trying to catch my breath, wiping at a bead of sweat dripping down my forehead. Gross.

Malcolm interrupted that line of thinking by glancing over at me to ask, "Do you have work this morning?"

I narrowed my eyes, lips tightening, sure another argument was about to ensue, "Yes, I'm leaving for the Cafe in an hour."

Malcolm eyed my mulish expression with an assessing one of his own, setting his phone down on the island counter top, "I'll drive you today."

I felt my eyebrows lift in surprise, shocked enough by his lack of argument that I didn't fight the fact that he'd most likely be taking up one of my tables today. Again.

He glanced at the clock over the stove, "Be ready to leave in forty-five minutes."

"Okay," I agreed slowly, with a resigned nod I set my coffee cup into the dishwasher, legs still shaky from the run. The soles of my tennis shoes squeaked on the tile as I made my way over to the stairs.

"You should eat breakfast," Malcolm called after me as I hobbled my way across the kitchen.

My stomach was still in my throat from my death march this morning. Just the idea of eating had my insides clenching painfully, "I'm fine."

From the tight expression overtaking his face, I could tell he wanted to argue his point, but I rushed as fast as my wobbly legs would take me out of the kitchen and up the stairs to get ready for work.

True to his word, Malcolm was waiting by the front door for me when I made my way back downstairs. After a quick shower and finding a clean set of work clothes, I'd barely had enough time to dab on some makeup and pull my hair into a wet ponytail before rushing down the hallway.

Malcolm stood at the front door in a heather gray t-shirt and faded black jeans, freshly showered. His hair was perfectly sculpted per usual and I had the intense urge to reach up and mess it up. He didn't say anything to me as I came to stand beside him, just grunted before leading the way outside to his truck.

A part of me wondered if I'd still have a job after leaving unexpectedly yesterday and I grimaced. Though when I'd texted Lauren to let her know I wouldn't be needing a ride today, she'd told me that Matt had taken care of Janice and calmed her down. Even with Lauren's reassurances, I didn't have much faith that things were going to be that simple. Lauren wasn't working today anyway, and even though she would have come to drive me work, I was glad she wouldn't need to be my chauffeur.

I left Malcolm in the parking lot with a grunted thanks for the ride as I limped my way into cafe, muscles already stiff from the hell I'd put them through this morning, not to mention the short workout he'd given me last night--nope, nope, not going there. Working a double was going to be near impossible with my muscles and feet already screaming at me.

I cringed internally when Matt was the only person in the break room when I came in from the parking lot. I wished that Lauren were there as a buffer when he turned accusing eyes on me. He quickly blinked the expression, folding his arms over his chest as I went to put my purse into my locker.

I'd remembered to cover up my Curse mark with makeup this morning, but even with concealer smeared over the thick black marks over my arm, the deep black color still shone through. I made a note to try to find something a little more heavy-duty to cover the Mark—at least until I finished these last few weeks at the Cafe. I cringed as I remembered Matt's expression when he'd looked between mine and Malcolm's Marks yesterday. I wasn't convinced that my lousy attempts to cover it up would help anything.

"You didn't text me back yesterday," I said to break the stilted silence of the break room. The stifling awkwardness was so different from how things usually were between Matt and me that it made it feel a hundred times worse.

"I'm sorry," he finally said coming up to lean heavily against the lockers, his light brown hair messy, his nose slightly pink from probably practicing baseball yesterday after work if I had to guess. Surprised, I turned to look over at him. "I was acting weird yesterday. I didn't take everything well. I guess I was just caught off guard."

I swallowed, trying to put myself in his shoes. If things had been reversed, I'd probably be just as shocked as he'd been.

His eyes narrowed in on the stiff way I was moving and asked, "What happened to you? Are you sore from your fall yesterday?"

I wrinkled my nose at the memory of the embarrassing debacle of passing out at work yesterday and shut my locker door to face him, blood rushing to my face at the memory, "No, I worked out this morning."

His eyebrows raised, the corners of his light blue eyes crinkling with amusement, "You don't work out."

"I know, that's why my arms feel like they're about to fall off."

He grinned, following me as I made my way to the front of the Cafe. We murmured hello to one of the bakers, as we passed to set up the espresso machine in the front of the store, falling back into an easy rhythm as we set out coffee cups and turned on the many machines lining the counters. The hiss of steam and murmured chatter of our co-workers filled the space as Matt talked about practice yesterday.

The easiness lasted until we rounded the corner from the kitchens and a slouched Malcolm was visible at my tables, typing away at a sleek and expensive-looking laptop he'd brought with him today. Matt's shoulders visibly tensed, his voice annoyed as he asked, "What's he doing here again?"