Chapter Seventy
Malachi's POV
Alicia was better in the morning. Not completely okay, but steadier. Like crying had released some of the pressure that had been building inside her. She'd stopped apologizing, stopped trying to hide behind her walls.
I watched her during the drive home. The way she looked out the window with less tension in her shoulders. The way her breathing was calmer. She'd let me see her break, and somehow that made her stronger.
When we pulled up to the mansion, I saw Travis's car and felt my jaw clench.
Ugh. I hated Travis. Hated what he'd become. What he'd always been, really. A broken man who broke everyone around him.
We walked inside together and found him in the living room. Drunk already. It was barely seven in the morning and he had a bottle in his hand like it was coffee.
His eyes landed on Alicia with immediate hatred. "Where the hell did you spend the night?"
She tried to walk past him. Smart. Don't engage with a drunk who wants a fight.
