Page 65 of Wicked

Shame at seeing me naked and on my knees. Relief that Shephard found me and saved my life. Sadness for the boys who lost their lives. Dismay that he was dying and I’ll be without living family.

Shame. Relief. Sadness. Dismay.

What my mother must’ve felt the day my dad shot her and Colton. Shame for not having the strength to end things between them rather than loving Colton behind my father’s back. Relief that they were finally found out and exposed. Sadness that they wouldn’t live long enough to spend it together. And dismay that she would die and I’d be left without a mother and a father. My father would spend the rest of his life in prison.

I glance over my shoulder. Shephard is inside the car, watching us with the intensity of a hawk in the sky waiting for its prey to dart out from the safety of its burrow. I return my attention to the paper. More like notepad, the kind cops keep with them to jot down quick notes.

I let go of Ryker’s hand, and unfolding the paper, I hold the edges taut. This is the first time I’ve seen the note. Bloodstains, blue ink, graphite gray—gunpowder?—and water marks. Are the water marks Shephard’s tears or my uncle’s?

“What’s that?”

“Shephard’s promise to my uncle.” A deep ache settles in my chest. I blink back my tears. My hands shake. Losing my uncle once was difficult and to live through it again at finally seeing the promise he made Shephard make . . . I sway.

Ryker secures me against his body.

“May I?”

I hand him the note, and he reads the words out loud, bits and pieces I heard my uncle speak in his soft and respectful tone.

“I, Shephard Taylor, promise to protect Harper Garrix to my dying breath or otherwise relinquish my promise to a stronger man worthy of protecting her. This promise I make in blood, with my blood, the blood of her torturer, and the blood of her last surviving family.”

A crushing blow on my chest. A rush of air from my lungs.

So those are the exact words my uncle said that day. He used his dying breaths to keep me safe while my toying with two dangerous men’s hearts killed him.

“My uncle, Elias, made Shephard write the words down. Said he’d haunt him for the rest of his life if he didn’t keep the promise. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he told me at my uncle’s funeral. My uncle didn’t believe in ghosts or the afterlife.”

Contemplative silence. He hands me back the note.

“By giving you this note while I’m here, is he relinquishing the promise to me?”

His voice is soft and his tone searching. But there’s no resentment or anger. There’s just the need to understand.

“I’d never ask or burden anyone with something as dangerous as protecting me. Shephard lived with the weight of it for five years, and he needed to let go, Ryker. It was doing him more harm than good. He and I aren’t good together for the long run, remember?”

“Is that what you’re asking me to do? Let you go? Are we breaking up?”

He stares forward with his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders pulled inward. Again, there’s no anger or resentment, but there is hurt feelings. Sighing, I try to explain the significance of what Shephard did.

“When he gave me the note, he’s putting the promise of keeping myself safe onme, Ryker. He believes I’m strong enough.”

The spot between my shoulder blades tingles.Shephard. The small of my back, my butt, and the back of my calves tingle with a different awareness. The guys from last night are also watching us.

“After what happened to me and my family, nothing but violence and death, I shouldn’t be upright. I should be under the covers, only coming out to use the bathroom. Rarely to shower. Rarer to eat. Shephard lived through my hell. Showed me compassion with his kindness and patience.”

“He took care of you afterward.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you have a small appetite? Leftover from your trauma?”

“Yes,” I say on a sad sigh, remembering those dark and hopeless days.

Shephard fed me, reminding me to chew and swallow. He helped me shower, too, and carried me back to bed. He sacrificed so much, and what have I given him in return other than hurt pride that I chose a different man to be with?

“I’m not normal. I’m . . . I’m me, and that’s all I can give you. Me.”

Making a point, I gesture up and down my body.

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