Page 40 of Wicked

“You better hope so.”

“It’s been five years,” I remind him.

“Your father’s murder proves time doesn’t heal old wounds. If you know what’s good and safe for you, don’t keep anything from me again.”

He hangs up.

I stare at the cell’s screen.

It’s a picture of me and Shephard from when we took a trip to the Oregon coast. We’re on the beach. His arm’s around my waist. I’m looking up at him. I’m smiling, but there’s something missing. Happiness. Contentment. A sense of peace.

I glance up. Lock gazes with Ryker. Was it fate that we met the night Shephard left for Chicago?

I go to him. “Hey, Ryker, do you mind taking a selfie with me?”

It’s time I change the screensaver on my cell.

15

Harper

“Hey, Harper, can he be on your team?”

Collin’s at my side, no doubt hovering to save me from the guy behind the counter’s intense checking out of me in my all-pink outfit and my hair in pig tails.

“He?” I pay for our jumps. The other kids are gathered at my back.

“Yeah, the guy who shall not be named.”

I laugh, fully understanding who he’s speaking of. This kid and his snark . . . He’s destined to break many hearts with his humor. Not to mention his protective nature.

“Who’s this guy who shall not be named?”

Speak of the devil. The kids pivot in the direction of the front door. Ryker walks in dressed in a onesie. My brows shoot to my hairline.

He smirks. Turns a full three-sixty.

“Do you guys like? I did miss superhero day, so here I am making up for the lost opportunityandkilling today’s theme.”

Pajamas is what the kids decided on for today’s jump.

“Groot?” The talking tree fromGuardians of the Galaxy. “Really?” I ask.

“Why not? He’s cool.”

“He says the same three words the entire movie,” I point out.

The kids walk around Ryker’s hulking body. Mouths open. Eyes wide. My mouth is open, and my eyes are wide for a different reason. He fills out the onesie nicely. I resist the urge to fan my heated face.

“Cool.”

“Awesome.”

“How do you pee in that thing?”

He glances down at Collin. “Carefully, kid. Very carefully.”

“Pfft.” Collin crosses his arms. “A onesie will cramp your style, old man.”

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