Page 173 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

“Wow. How did Wick handle that?” Izzy wanted to know.

I glanced toward his parents, still a little dazed that I was admitting all this in front of them. Discreetly clearing my throat, I said, “He, uh, he beat the crap out of him.”

Mr. Webster nodded solemnly. “That’s my boy,” he said as if proud, and that seemed to be the first thing I’d heard him say since meeting him.

I explained that Topher’s getting beaten up was why he’d had his friends be extra rough on Wick at practice the next day and therefore why Wick was currently getting a hole drilled into his head.

“Oh, this just won’t do,” Mrs. Webster said, shaking her head. “I mean, why in heaven’s name is the administration on that football team letting their boys get away with so much mischief? I think I’ll be having a talk with Wickham’s coach about this. He might be interested to hear how my friend, who’s a local news anchor, would simply love to get an exposé on the bullying going on in my son’s locker room.”

“You get ’em, Mom,” Darcy said, nodding her approval.

Charlie turned to me, eagerly. “So, how did you make fake semen, anyway?” she had to know.

My eyes grew wide. I glanced toward Cannon who was covering his mouth with his fist and coughing until his eyes watered.

“Charlotte,” Jane scolded. “That is not an appropriate—”

“Glue and laundry detergent,” I blurted, lying through my teeth.

“Oh, really?” Jane asked, nodding and looking thoughtful. “Hmm. How interesting. I never would’ve guessed.”

Izzy blurted out laughing over her mother’s reaction, and the other two sisters weren’t far behind. Soon, our entire group was chuckling, grasping on to the much-needed relief of tension, because this waiting business sucked ass.

But as Wick’s doctor approached, Cannon grew serious and surged to his feet. The rest of us followed him up, suddenly just as sober.

Lord, please don’t be bad news, I prayed, squeezing my hands together at my chest.

“He’s out of surgery,” the doctor announced. “And he’s doing just fine. Everything went great with no complications. We’ll probably keep him in recovery for an hour or so and monitor his status, then someone will come out to get you whenever he’s moved to his room so you can see him.”

“Oh, thank God.”

We all started hugging each other and laughing. I even hugged Cannon, and more surprisingly, he hugged me back. Then we asked the doctor more questions, Darcy asking the most, because she seemed to actually understand the answers.

But after she left, we weren’t led into Wick’s hospital room until noon.

As we approached, I snagged Izzy’s hand and held her back as the others trooped ahead. “Hey, uh…” I flushed and bit my lip when she turned to me. “Did you happen to read any of the messages between me and Wick yesterday?”

Izzy wrinkled her brow as if confused. “No way,” she said. “I’d never intrude on your guys’ privacy like that.” Then she shot me a huge grin and squealed as she gripped my fingers. “But gotta say, I am so excited.” Then she hugged me and whispered into my ear, “I wanted you two to get together from the very beginning.”

From down the hall, we suddenly heard Charlie’s voice shriek. “Oh my God. The tube’s still in his head!”

Izzy and I immediately broke apart, gaping at each other before we turned in unison and hurried to catch up with the others, skidding through the doorway to Wick’s room just as the nurse checking his vital signs answered, “It’ll probably stay in for about twenty-four hours until the hematoma is drained completely.”

Wick was stretched out on the hospital bed, under a white sheet, and awake. He looked extra pale and extremely drowsy, but most definitely alive.

Lifting his hand slowly toward his head, he slurred, “Does it look bad?”

His mom caught his fingers before he could touch the parts of his beautiful silken hair that had been shaved away to plug the tube into him. “No, sweetheart. You’re as handsome as ever.” Then she kissed his forehead.

And he was, I agreed. He really, really was a beautiful man, inside and out.

I slowly stepped into the room as his family and Cannon took turns greeting him. It was so nice to see him awake, even as doped-up as he was, talking languidly and quirking up that half grin of his, I just stood there, holding my hands to my mouth, soaking in the sight, grateful he was alive and was going to be okay.

The relief was almost overwhelming.

“Seriously, you all are treating me like I’m dying or something,” he teased.

They chuckled obligingly, letting him think he’d never been in any danger of doing just that.

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