Page 52 of Wicked Devotions

“What do you mean?” I always thought she liked him.

“He’s not bad, but there’s such an edge there.” She shakes the thoughts off. “I’m probably just being overly cautious because of your father. That would be the worst case imaginable for me, if you somehow found yourself in a situation like I was.”

“I won’t, Mom. I promise.”

We move the conversation to lighter topics for the rest of breakfast. Banks comes down to say goodbye to us before he goes back to his house for Sunday dinner. He asks if I want to join him, but I don’t know what time Declan will want to fly home.

“Did you feel like someone was watching us last night?” I ask as I walk him out to his car.

“On the beach?”

“No. While we were sleeping.”

He stops and looks at me. “No.”

“It was probably just my imagination. I’ve been on edge since getting that letter.”

“Could it have been Declan? He gives creeper vibes.”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll ask.”

“Make sure that you do. He’s overbearing, but I do know he wants to keep you safe.”

I nod in agreement before we say goodbye. Having him leave on such a good note makes me so happy. Things finally feel like they’re falling into place the way they always should have.

Chapter

Twenty

EMERSON

After six straight hours of studying in our blissfully silent house, I hear the telltale sound of Cy’s footsteps coming up the stairs. He’s kept himself pretty scarce this weekend, and I’m determined to find out why. So, I hastily close my laptop and cross my room to the door.

“Cy.” I intercept him just before he disappears into his room.

“Hey.” He turns at the sound of my voice. “I didn’t even realize you were here.”

“I’ve been studying.” My eyescatch on his knuckles when he tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. “What happened?”

“I forgot to tape before going at the bag.” He pulls his hands back when I move to check them.

“Let me see.”

“They’re fine. Just cut up.”

“Let. Me. See.”

He relents after a short standoff. I’m the most easygoing of us, but I’m also the most stubborn when I need to be. All his knuckles are scabbed over, but a few of them are also swollen and bruised.

“Come with me.” I start walking to the stairs. “When did this happen?”

“Friday.”

Spinning at the bottom of the steps to face him, I barely contain my irritation. “You let your hands go like this for two days?”

I don’t understand why he would risk injuring himself like this. His hands will be his livelihood eventually. This isn’t the first time, so I’m stocked with everything I need, at least there’s no sign of infection.

Between the three of us, I’ve found it’s best to be fully prepared for any injury at the house. We’re all athletic, and Dec and Cy both tend to be hotheaded, leading with their fists instead of theirbrains. So, I have multiple ice packs, all types of bandages and disinfectants, and even some splints.

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