Page 53 of Wicked Devotions: Part 2

Good fucking riddance.

Andreas guides me out of the now empty building and to his car. He grabs me by the collar when I open the door to sit down. “Wait,” he instructs in his heavy Greek accent. “Get blood in my car, and you’ll join uncle in hell.” He grabs a blanket from the back and lays it carefully over the seat.

I drop heavily into the seat once he’s done. He closes the door for me and walks around the front of the car. I feel nothing as he drives me back to the dock where the yacht is waiting for me.

“When I was going through all the accounts Georgios had, I found something you might be interested in.”

“Yeah?” I don’t bother trying to move my head, it hurts too much to try.

“There were all the organization accounts, we’re keeping those.”

Of course. I never assumed I’d walk away with any money.

“But we also found one hidden with your parents’ names. We’ve transferred the balances to your accounts. It’s nearly three hundred million euros.”

Fuck the pain. I look over at him. “How?”

“My best guess is that they knew they were going to be taken out, so they hid the money away.”

I let the knowledge of my newfound wealth sink in. That’s life changing money. Between that money and finally being free of my uncle, I’m set. I could drop out of school and make art on my own terms for the rest of my life, never worrying about my uncle pulling me back into his criminal schemes.

I’ve thought about this moment so many times. Would I immediately feel freer, lighter, without the threat of my family always lingering over me? Would I feel alone? Right now, I’m just numb. I can’t even feel my injuries, the endorphins from the night mixed with the news that I’m now wealthier than I ever imagined are still pumping through my veins. No doubt I’ll feel everything tomorrow.

He pulls up to the dock, and after a brief goodbye, I walk down to the yacht. I have a piece of the blanket I sat on pressed against my stab wound, so I’m not dripping a trail of blood behind me. I will have to pay to have the yacht cleaned, though;there’s no way that I’m not getting it all over the interior of the boat. Especially when Emerson cleans me up.

I don’t see any of the staff as I step aboard, which is what I’d prefer. I go down the exterior staircase to the side entrance of the level with all the staterooms. As soon as I push open the door to Emerson’s room, I’m greeted by the sight of him and Harper laying in bed together.

They sit up from under the covers as soon as they see me. Emerson launches himself off the bed when his eyes lock on my bloodied and pale skin. Harper’s color drains as she takes in my appearance and jumps out of bed to help me as well.

“Cy, oh my god. What happened?” She starts undoing the buttons of my shirt while Emerson leads us to the en suite.

“I killed my uncle.” I deliver the words in a detached, cold manor while looking down at her. A perverse part of me wants to push her away, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s a test to see if she’ll still love me at my worst. Either way it’s fucked.

She halts. Her beautiful hazel eyes look up and lock on mine. “Good. I hope you made it hurt.”

I love her.

I love her in such a brutal way that it rips me apart at the seams of my scars. All the tiny drops of goodness I’ve managed to hide away in the depths of my dark soul belong to her now. I belong to her, to him. My gaze breaks from hers to look up at Emerson as he pushes my hair back to examine my split temple.

“I love you.” I look back and forth between them. “I love you both.”

The words tumble from me before I can think better of it. Harper’s eyes go glassy as she looks up at me. A tear overflows and rolls down her cheek.

“I’m sorry.” I lift my hand and wipe it away with my thumb, leaving a smudge of pink on her cheek from my blood.“I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. Just forget I said anything.”

“No.” She pulls me down to her level by the lapels of my shirt. “Say it again.” Her voice is a confusing mix of anguish and hope.

“I love you.”

Her lips crash against mine. Our tongues tangle together in a desperate, powerful clash. We pour every single emotion into this kiss. I know I’m bleeding from where I was stabbed, but the high of touching her chases the dizziness away.

“I love you, too,” she says as she pulls away.

I crush her against me and bury my head in her hair. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” My heart fucking bursts at the seams at the happiness I hear in her voice.

“I hate to break this up, but blood is literally seeping out of your body. If you want to avoid going to the hospital, you need to let me close you up.” Emerson is all business, as he usually is when he’s forced to patch me back together.

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