Chapter 34: *CHAPTER 34*

I warily glanced between Matt's tensed figure and Malcolm's overly casual one, clearing my throat, "He was worried about me after yesterday so he wanted to be here in case I have another...episode."

"Who even is that guy Kassie? Why has he been following you around so much?" Matt's eyes narrowed accusingly again, as he rounded on me, "Are you dating him?"

I flinched back in shock, "No I'm not dating him," I hissed, trying to stay calm and failing miserably at the holier-than-thou look he was giving me. "Not that it would be any of your business if I were dating someone."

After Matt and I had broken up, he'd been on a few dates with other girls from our school, though it had never ended up being anything serious. It never bothered me, and I never said anything to him about it, so it struck a nerve that he was getting in my face about my dating life.

"I don't like him. I asked around about him after yesterday,"

"You did what—"

Matt ignored me, carrying on "He runs in some sketchy crowds, I even heard he got in trouble with the police."

I rubbed at my forehead, frustration making my shoulders tense, striving for patience and failing miserably, "You don't get a say in who I spend my time with."

He opened my mouth to retort, but I cut him off with a raised hand, "You're my friend, Matt. But I need you to stay out of this. Please."

He looked at me like I'd slapped him across the face, turning on me without another word, and stalked across the cafe.

I let out a shaky frustrated breath, watching his retreating back. That could have gone better. I wasn't sure what was getting into him lately. I rubbed a hand down my face, trying to push that frustration down, as the tables in my section were quickly beginning to fill up. I'd think about this later when, figure out how to fix this.

My shift had felt like an eternity without Lauren there to break up the monotony. With no one there to laugh about the rude customers with, not to mention Matt's murky glares filling the entire building with his ire.

Malcolm had largely ignored me as I flitted around the cafe, making quick work of my tables. Whatever he was working on took up the majority of his attention, though I felt his gaze on me from time to time. Matt had glared at him on and off all day, and Malcolm definitely noticed.

I caught Malcolm openly smirking at Matt's glaring face, saying, "How's it going Mark?" to him as Matt passed his table. Matt ignored him, though his shoulders stiffened, his glaring growing even more intense. It was childish—both of them puffing their chests up at each other. I wanted to shake them.

I was exhausted from this morning, feeling the twinge in my overworked muscles, arms shaking as I lugged drink trays around. Wasn't working out supposed to give you more energy? I didn't have more energy, I felt dead on my feet. I was more than happy to snatch my purse from my small locker when the end of my shift rolled around.

Malcolm's truck was already started when I met him outside the Cafe. The truck's engine rumbled quietly as I pulled myself into the passenger seat with an ungraceful lurch, adjusting the skirt around me as I fastened the seatbelt.

Exhausted, I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my work shirt, feeling strangled by the scratchy material. I could feel Malcolm's attention--a heated glance over my skin as I wrestled with my shirt. I ignored the scalding feeling his eyes on me brought to the surface as I slouched tiredly into the truck's seat. I watched the passing cars and buildings as Malcolm drove through lines of traffic. It took me longer than it probably should have to see that we weren't taking roads that lead us in the opposite direction of the Pembroke's.

I sat up a little straighter in my seat, "Where are we going?"

"I got a call from work. I need to go to a scene and there's not enough time to drop you off."

"Oh." Remembering the last time I scuttled around the scene Malcolm was working ended with me being Cursed, it didn't leave me with a very optimistic outlook on the whole endeavor.

He grumbled, checking over his shoulder as he switched lanes, "And before you ask, no, I'm not taking you to a murder scene."

That was good. That was really good. I wasn't sure if I could handle any more dead bodies—in fact, I'd prefer to never have to run into one ever again. Malcolm drove us out onto a back road that looked rarely used, overgrown with sagebrush.

We were literally in the middle of nowhere, I rattled and bounced around the truck's bench as Malcolm's truck struck a few potholes, my teeth clicking together as we ran over the uneven pathway. After a good ten minutes, I was about to ask Malcolm if he was lost when we turned a corner around a patch of saguaro and came upon a small dilapidated building.

The structure was built with faded cement blocks the color of sand. Crumbling tile made up the roof in a darker shade of brown. The longer I stared the worse it looked. Its front windows were cracked and smashed in and the door had something rust-colored dripping from it that I didn't want to look too closely at.

Malcolm jerked the truck to a sharp stop, and in a single motion unfastened his seatbelt, tugging the keys from the ignition, "Stay here." He ordered, slipping from his truck and rounding the front in a few sure-footed strides. It only took a moment of watching his retreating back to decide I wasn't going to sit around in the truck. It was much too hot to be sitting in the truck.

I scuttled out the passenger side of the truck, not nearly as graceful as Malcolm had been, the door slamming too loudly behind me. I trotted up behind him until I was walking side by side with his long stride. He sighed gustily, pulling the designer sunglasses from the bridge of his nose. I didn't need the Curse Bond to sense the exasperation tumbling off him in waves. Still, he didn't order me back to the truck so I took that as license to follow along.