Page 42 of Wicked Devotions

Declan doesn’t stop cleaning my cuts, but his movements become harsher. Not that I mind. If I had my way, I’d still be attacking the bag. At least I was able to formulate my plan before he found me.

“It makes sense why she’s always so covered up. I thought it was a modesty thing,” he says.

“It could be both. She doesn’t like to show much skin in general.”

“I wonder if there’s anything else on her,” he says as he puts away the kit.

“Not that I saw.”

“What did you see exactly? And how?”

“I slept in her room last night.” I clear my throat. I’m not afraid of Declan, but I don’t know how he’s going to react to this.

“Is that all you did?” He spears me with his hard gaze.

“No.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

“No.”

He visibly relaxes at that answer and leaves without saying a word. I know he has feelings for her, he’s told me himself. But I have feelings for her, too. I think Emerson is beginning to, as well. There’s an unspoken agreement between us that we’ll just follow her lead. She’s in charge of what she wants. That doesn’t change the fact that it’ll take work to find our comfort zone. This isn’t just a one-night stand that we all have in common.

I grab a bottle of disinfectant and start removing my blood and sweat from the bag and the mats. It takes a while since it’s started to dry while Declan was cleaning my knuckles. But it’s not like I don’t have plenty of experience cleaning up dried blood. I manage to get everything up and head back over to the house.

Everyone's gone to classes, so I don’t have to worry about running into Harper and trying to play it cool. I also won’t have to worry about lying to the guys about where I’m going today. They would try to stop me if they knew I planned to go to my uncle for help.

By the time I finish showering, I know what my approach will be. He can’t know that I’m doing it for Harper because I care about her. I’ll have to spin itsomehow into being about her father. The threatening notes could be a good excuse.

At first I was worried that they were coming from him, some sort of psychological warfare against me to keep me under heel. That fear was assuaged when Declan admitted that there had been more letters to both her and her mother. Georgios is scum, but he’d have no logical reason to be involved with Scott Flynn. Their criminal rings exist in separate realms.

I consider grabbing my gun but decide against it. Any interaction with my uncle is dangerous, but carrying a weapon is just asking for trouble. I need him for this which means going unarmed and falling on my own sword. So I grab my helmet and take off on my motorcycle, so I can make it back before they realize I’m gone.

When my uncleis in America, he runs his operation out of shipping warehouses. The scent of saltwater and dead fish from a seafood market down the beach hang stagnant in the air as I approach the gatehouse. Security at the first gate lets me pass without stopping. I have free rein of this placeright up to the building Georgios keeps his office in.

I park right next to his blacked-out Escalade. By the time I turn off my Ducati, Nicholas is walking out to greet me. His face has a long scar across it from the inner corner of his right eye to below his ear. Souvenir of the only fight he almost lost. If I hadn’t grown up with him always around, I’d be scared of the motherfucker on looks alone.

“Cyrus.” He nods in greeting. “We weren’t expecting you today.”

“I need to speak to my uncle.”

“About?”

“It’s between him and I.”

He stares me down, displeased with that answer. I stare right back, fully knowing this is part of the dance. He finally relents when he sees I’m not budging. “I’ll take you to Andreas to see if Georgios has time for you today.”

They’ll make time for me, or I’ll make trouble for them.

I follow Nic through the warehouse full of shipping containers and pallets covered with tarps. Who the fuck knows what’s hidden away in here. Arms, drugs, contraband luxury goods. My uncle has his fingers in anything and everythingnefarious.

I sit in a metal chair outside Andreas’s office while Nic disappears inside. After the first fifteen minutes tick by slowly, I scoff. I know what game this is, so I stretch my legs out and tip my head back against the corrugated metal behind me. If they’re going to make me wait, I’m going to act as unbothered as possible.

I feign sleep, knowing it’ll piss them off. Because my eyes are closed, I can only hear the ticking of the clock overhead. I let the metronome-like sound put me into a trance while I wait. Using the time to fully focus on my plan.

After what feels like hours, Andreas comes out. He slaps me across the cheek, and I pretend to jolt awake. I knew it was coming but that didn’t stop the ache from forming where his ring cut my skin. He tells me to wake up in Greek, peppered with insults.

I follow him back to my uncle. Georgios holds out his hand, and I kiss his ring, bowing my head like I was taught. Every time I do this, I die a little inside. Showing deference and respect to the man who made me into the monster I am makes me fucking sick.

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