Page 105 of Wicked Games

Carey was the last to go. As soon as they called her name, I let out a loud wolf-whistle, followed by a whooping cheer. Pride swelled in my chest as I watched her take her diploma. “That’s my girl!” I shouted before whistling again.

She laughed as she stepped off the stage, shaking a finger in my direction. Breaking all the rules, I jumped up and sprinted over to her, engulfing her in a bear hug before lowering my face to hers for a fierce kiss.

“I love you,” she murmured as she pulled away, eyes shimmering with tears.

“I love you too,” I replied, throat clogging with emotion as I stared down at her.

I never knew I could be so fulfilled. So happy. Especially after everything that went down in those games last year. But that was what love did. It made everything better, even if the rest of the world was a total shit-show.

It was the one game Carey and I would never lose.

Epilogue

Carey

One year later…

April was right about one thing.

After all the shit she put me and the others through two years ago, I was now super-famous—even though that was the last thing I ever wanted—and a TV streaming network had just contacted me to tell me they were doing a special docuseries on everything that happened. ‘Incident at Icarus Hall’ was the working title, and they wanted me to fly to LA for several interviews if I was interested in taking part.

A publishing house had also contacted me last year to gauge my interest in writing a book about my experience. I’d accepted their offer, figuring I could really use the money. I’d worked with a professional ghostwriter and editor between college classes over the last eight months, and now Wicked Games was set to publish in a few more months.

As for April… she was exactly where she belonged now. Prison. She contacted me every so often, trying to get me to visit her, but I ignored the letters. I had no idea how she got my new address in Boston, but I wasn’t surprised that she did. She had abrilliant mind. It was just a shame it had turned out so awfully dark and twisted.

Her parents had been sentenced to life without parole too, and the judge presiding over the case had made one thing abundantly clear during the trial: their stacks of money and influential connections weren’t going to help them a single bit. The whole world was sick of watching rich people get away with heinous crimes, and the judge intended to make an example of them to dissuade other too-rich assholes from assuming they could get away with anything, just so long as they had enough power and money.

A sharp rapping sound snapped my attention to my door, and I smiled and hurried across the room. “Hey,” I said as I threw the door open. “How was your last class?”

Maverick stepped inside and slid his arms around my waist. “It was okay. How’s my favorite writer?”

I laughed softly. “I’m hardly a writer.”

“You’re about to publish a book.”

“I know, but I had a ton of help,” I said, lightly shrugging. “I feel like I can’t really call myself a writer.”

Maverick smiled. “I think you definitely can. But let’s start again. How’s my favorite computer science major?”

“Good.” I grinned back at him. “How’s my favorite finance major?”

“Also good,” he said, leaning down to briefly peck my cheek. “My econ professor offered me a spot in his internship program next semester.”

My eyes widened. “That’s awesome! We totally need to celebrate!” I said, heart swelling with pride. “We could go and have dinner at that new Greek place on Trowbridge. I’ve heard it’s really good.”

“Yeah, let’s do it. But I have a surprise for you first.” Maverick’s lips twisted into a wicked smirk, and he reached into his pocket.

“Uhh… what is that?” I asked, watching him pull out a black strip of fabric.

“A blindfold.”

“Is this a sex thing?”

He laughed. “It could be. But no. It’s for you to wear in the car so the surprise isn’t spoiled.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” I said, standing up on my tiptoes to kiss his nose. “Let’s go.”

Once we were in Maverick’s car, he tied the blindfold at the back of my head and adjusted it until he was sure I couldn’t sneak a single peek at my surroundings. We drove for around fifteen minutes—very slowly for most of it, because of the damn traffic—and then Maverick carefully led me over a street and up several flights of stairs. I heard a key turning in a lock, followed by the sound of a door swinging open. Then I was slowly led forward again.

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