Page 142 of Savage Vicious Heir: Part Two

Things are good.

Better than good.

Being with Elliot is… everything.

“All jokes aside, it’s going to be fucking weird not having you start uni with us in September,” Theo says, and the mood turns somber.

“I’ll still be around to kick your arses,” Elliot quips.

“Get in line.” Liv flashes Reese a playful smirk and he grabs her arm and hauls her onto his lap.

“Something you want to say, sweet cheeks.”

“Sister, wanker. That’s my sister,” Oakley protests, earning a round of laughter.

Family.

This is what family should be.

Love and laughter and unwavering support.

I never thought I’d find that in the halls of All Hallows’ but here we are.

And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“At least we get to see out our school days here,” Oakley says. “I knew Dad would come through.”

“How did your old man wangle that?” Theo asks.

“He has his ways. Besides,” his eyes flick to Elliot’s, “old John boy isn’t one for scandal and drama. He prefers to keep up appearances and letting Elliot stay here will soothe the rumour mill.”

“Pretty sure everyone and their dog already knows that he cut me off,” Elliot murmurs, tensing behind me.

“But as far as anyone knows, it’s only rumour and conjecture.”

“Scott’s mangled face would say otherwise,” Reese snorts, but no one laughs at that.

“Didn’t you hear? Golden boy apparently got jumped by a couple of arseholes from Denton. Gave him a good hiding and sent him scurrying back to daddy dearest with his tail between his legs.”

“Should have beat his ass in the cage if you ask me.” Theo huffs. “He’s had it a long time coming.”

“I’m done, they can all rot in hell as far as I’m concerned,” Elliot says, and that’s that.

No one mentions Scott or Johnathon again, but I know the scars will stay with Elliot long after today.

Maybe even forever.

But I’ll do my best to heal them. To soothe them when they hurt most.

Elliot taught me my scars don’t define me. Now it’s my turn to show him that his scars don’t dictate who he is either.

Or the man he becomes.

“What do you think?” I glance over my shoulder, hardly able to contain my smile.

“It’s… small.” Elliot huffs as he takes in the small two-bedroom cottage we’re viewing today.

“I think it has character.”

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