Page 55 of Wicked

Shephard’s eyes gleam with satisfaction. He’s proud of the fact Harper revealed she tells him everything. Does she speak ofourtime together, flirting and touching?

“You want to hear another fucked-up prose?”

“Should I?”

“It’s in your best interest.”

Lethal softness in his voice. Couldn’t-care-less expression on his face. But I’m starting to understand what makes Shephard “complicated.” He’s fighting what he feels for Harper every step of the way. He wants her but knows they’re not good together. My gaze drops to his hold on the handle of his steak knife. White-knuckled fucking grip.

I shrug. “Yeah, sure.” Casual, but dread spreads across my chest, an ominous darkness of what I’ll be getting myself into if I continue to stick with Harper.

“Wicked. She’s as wicked as they come. Tempting me with hair dark as night. Eyes as blue as the ocean waves. Wicked, her coy smile. Her teasing. She’s as wicked as they come, and I will crush her soul until she squeals her come.”

Dread envelopes the rest of my body.

“Her father wrote that for her mother?” What a psycho.

“My brother did. About Harper. He sent me the note the day he took her.”

“Took her as infuckedher?”

Her body stiffens.

“Aw, shit, I’m sorry, Harper.” Sorry for speaking over her. Apologizing for my crass language.

“It’s okay.” She reaches for my hand and interlaces our fingers.

The small gesture unravels me. I’m putty in her hands. If she said, “Jump,” I’d say, “How high?”

“Go on, Shephard. Answer Ryker’s question.”

“Kidnap. Stole,” Shephard answers. “He took what is mine, and when he gets out of prison, I’ll make him pay. Will you be around to witness retribution, Conway? Or will you continue to live your simple, unassuming life of football and who your next lay will be?”

Shephard sums up my life in one word, but simple didn’t get me to the top. Hard work, eagle-eye focus, and dedication did.

There’s a reason I leave “complicated” at the door. Giving a flying fuck hurts, like getting stomped on by cleats. Caring messes with my mind too. And anything that messes with my mind has the power to mess with my ability to play ball at my top-notch best.

Is he right? Will I ditch complicated for simple? Danger for a safe passage through life? Harper and Shephard’s world is all sorts of messed-up danger, and I have this gut feeling someone will pay with their life.

They wait for my answer. I’m not ready to give it. Protecting Harper is one thing. Going full board on whatever shit they’re involved in with Shephard’s psycho little brother and those thugs across the room is a different monster altogether.

I take a long draw of my ale, then fork a sizable chunk of bloody steak into my mouth, chewing and basking in the contemplative silence of my girl and her guy.Her guy. Then what the fuck am I?

Last night, we agreed I wouldn’t be sharing Harper with Shephard. Had concluded I will lose her if I go outside our exclusive relationship.

How the hell did I acquire a relationship in three weeks? Shit, we haven’t even properly kissed.

We finish our meal. I pick up the tab, crossing my fingers the rest of the night is uneventful. After the proverbial bombs Shephard’s been dropping, I’d like me some peace and quiet.

It ain’t happening. The thugs are done with their meals too. They walk over. The bigger of the four sets his big paws on the table and looks Harper up and down, his eyes focused on her mouth.

“I hear you give great blow.”

I stand. My chair hits the ground. “Apologize,” I ground out.

Douchebag steps it up another crass level. He backs up and grabs his junk. “Keep her near.”

“Or else what?” I know the answer, but I want to hear him say it. I need to understand what I’m getting myself involved in.

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