Page 118 of Wicked Beautiful (Wicked Games 1)
Finally Connor cuts through the tension, addressing Tabby directly.
“She left a note.”
Tabby spins on her heel and glares at him. “The police told me about that bullshit note, and there’s no fucking way she wrote it!”
When her eyes flash to me, I realize she’s accusing me of forging Victoria’s suicide note. “Hold the fuck on—” I begin, irate, but Connor cuts me off.
“No, sweet cheeks, another note. She left two. One for the police, one for Parker. And for the record, she wrote both; I evaluated the handwriting. It’s hers.”
Tabby’s big green eyes widen. She sucks in a hopeful breath. “Where’s the other note? What did it say? Give it to me!”
She thrusts her hand into Connor’s face.
He grins. “I’ll give it to you…if you promise to be nice.”
Slowly Tabby lowers her arm. Her breathing is erratic, her spine is straight, and her eyes are steely, and full of venom.
If I were Connor, I’d honestly be in fear for the future health of my testicles.
Glaring at him, Tabby says quietly, “I’m good, jarhead, but I will never, ever, be nice. Nice is for preschool teachers, politicians, and cowards. I’m real, and I don’t give one single fuck about conforming to your misogynist ideas about how women should act, so you fucking hand over that motherfucking note right now, or I swear to the Goddess I will rain down a shit storm of such epic proportions on you, you’ll think your name is Noah.”
Connor looks over at me. “It is inappropriate for me to have a boner right now? ’Cause my dick is so hard it might actually explode.”
“Just give her the damn note, Connor.”
Tabby says, “Thank you!” and snaps her fingers in front of his face.
Smirking at her, he removes a folded piece of white paper from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He flicks it out between two fingers like a magician with a card trick, and she snatches it from his hand.
She reads it once, her eyes darting from line to line. She frowns, glances up at me, and then reads it again. She sinks into the nearest chair, staring at me with big, disbelieving eyes.
“You asked her to marry you?”
Darcy chokes on a mouthful of ice cream. Connor leans over and pounds her on the back.
“Yes. Well, no, not exactly. I sort of…implied that we’d get married. Whatever. The point is that we agreed we’d go ring shopping when we came back to New York, and then we went to sleep, and the next thing I know she’s gone.”
Tabby digests that in fraught silence for a moment. Darcy says, “Gimme that,” and rips the note from Tabby’s hands. She proceeds to read it silently, her lips moving, but I’ve already memorized every word.
Dear Parker,
Forgive me for leaving like this again, but you’ve left me no choice. I’m not interested in marriage…or any other institution.
Thank you for everything you shared with me tonight. You have no idea what it means to me. I’ll never tell another soul, so please don’t waste one minute worrying about that.
The other note is for the po
lice, so you won’t be a suspect in my disappearance. And no, I don’t have cancer. That’s just for the media. I plan on living a long and productive life, out of the spotlight. Please don’t try to find me. It will only make things worse.
There are so many things I wish I could tell you, but there’s just too much at stake. Maybe in another life.
I wish you happiness, Parker. You deserve it.
Yours always,
Victoria
When she finishes reading, Darcy glances at Tabby. A look passes between them that prompts me to ask, “I assume you both knew all along who she really is?”
