Page 51 of Wicked Devotions: Part 2

Instead of saying anything I just go back to picking olives. I can’t begrudge them the connection they formed long ago. I just have to let it go and realize there are some things that I’ll be left out of. Even if it hurts.

After a prolonged minute, they each go back to picking in peace and quiet. We move from tree to tree, filling our baskets and enjoying the nice weather. It’s warm enough to not need a jacket but not hot enough to sweat. Which is actually a shame now that I think about it. I wouldn’t mind watching the guys pick olives shirtless.

Cyrus carries my basket along with his when it’s time to take them back to the main building where they are processed. We watch as they wash, crush, blend, and then strain the olives into oil. While we watched that process, a picnic was set up in the grove for us.

A blue and white blanket is spread over the ground with bottles of wine, olives, hummus, pita, cheese, and grapes on a beautiful charcuterie board. I sit down beside Declan, earning a soft smile that makes my insides flip. He really is irritatingly handsome when he smiles.

Emerson pours a glass of wine for Cy who kisses him in thanks. I sneak a glance at Declan to see if he has any kind of reaction to their casual display of affection, but he’s impassive. He raises an eyebrow at me when he notices me looking at him.

“What?”

“Does that bother you?” I gesture toward the other two with my head.

“Them kissing?”

“Yeah.”

“Not even a little bit.” He looks down at me. “Does it bother you?”

I shake my head. “I actually love that they have each other.”

“Me, too. It took them long enough to figure it out,” he says quietly while watching them talk softly.

“What do you mean?”

“The first few times they hooked up, they’d act so weird afterward. They wouldn’t want to hang out with each other alone. Or sit beside each other on the couch if we were gaming. I’m not sure if they just didn’t want me to know or not to raise suspicion. Regardless, I could hear everything they were doing, so it wasn’t a shock to me.” He grabs a few grapes and pops them in his mouth.

“I’ve never gotten the vibe they were ashamed of it.”

“I don’t think they ever have been.” He looks at me again. “I am surprised at how open minded you’ve been about everything, though.”

“Me too.” I smile up at him. “I think when you’ve gone through the kind of stuff I have, it either breeds hate or fosters empathy and open-mindedness. I’d like to think I have more of the latter.”

“You’re the least hateful person I know. I don’t even think you’re capable of hate.”

“I am.” I take a sip of my wine, steadying myself before making the biggest confession. “My dad, I hate him. I hate him for what he did to Mom. I hate him for what he did to me. I hate that he hurt so many people and I’m still paying the price for it.”

He’s silent for a moment. I feel the heaviness of his deep green gaze on the side of my face. “You mean that, don’t you?”

My eyes meet his when I nod.

“That makes what needs to be done so much easier,” he says quietly to himself.

Chapter

Nineteen

CYRUS

The air reeks of dead fish and sea salt as I walk over the gravel parking lot to the warehouse everyone is gathered in. I pull open the steel door, and cigarette smoke assaults me. I pass a few of my uncle’s lower-level men and don’t even bother making eye contact. They know who I am, and while there’s no love lost between my uncle and I, I’m still afforded privileges as his nephew.

As I enter the main room, I look over to the corner where Nicholai is perched on a bar stool. He gives me the subtlest of nods as I continue walking slowly through the room. I find a table of guys I’ve known forever playing poker. I take an empty seat, waiting to be dealt in on the next hand. One of the girls walks by and sets a beer in front of me.

I toss a wad of cash onto the table as my buy-in while we all catch up. I don’t care if I lose, I’m putting in appearances for anhour until the real show begins. I laugh and listen to the guys bullshit each other while I scope out the room.

Andreas has a diversion set up to clear the space out. I’m not sure what it is because we haven’t been able to communicate openly. Georgios is paranoid the older he gets, especially with no one challenging him to take over the organization since my parents died.

I’m nearly positive their deaths were at his hand. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The older I’ve gotten, and the more digging I’ve done, I’ve come to the conclusion that unless he tells me exactly what happened, I’ll never know. I’m fine with that.

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