Page 18 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

Recognizing my truck, he lifted his arm and flipped us off.

Oh yeah, he had absolutely no idea whatsoever who was inside the cab of this truck with me right now. Burying my nose in Haven’s hair, I couldn’t contain a petty, smug smile as I stole the dick head’s girl right out from under his nose.

I guess the fucker should’ve treated her better.

4

Wick

Haven had fallen asleep by the time we reached my apartment complex.

“God, I hate your truck,” Izzy muttered from the driver’s seat as she passed the only available parking spot directly in front of my place.

“What’re you doing?” I cried as I watched my building flash by. “There was a place right there.”

The idea of carrying Haven’s dead weight more than a block did not appeal.

But Izzy growled, “You’re crazy if you think I can actually parallel park this huge monstrosity anywhere that small. I’m going to circle the block, and then I’ll let you out by your front door before I find somewhere easier to park.”

I opened my mouth to tell her it wasn’t that hard to parallel park and even offer tips, but the glance she shot me in the rearview mirror had me shutting up.

So, I settled for sighing. “Whatever.”

Growing up with three sisters and no brothers had taught me well when to keep my mouth shut to avoid getting my eyes scratched out.

Once she’d made her way back around the block, the one open spot was gone, anyway, so Izzy double parked next to the white car that had filled it. My extended cab didn’t contain four full doors but the suicide kind that wouldn’t open in the back until someone opened the front first, so Izzy had to play chauffeur and throw open her door before letting us out.

As she released us, I clutched Haven to my chest and met my sister’s gaze

. “Can you get us into the apartment too? My keys are in my front pocket.”

Izzy glanced around; traffic was light at the moment and no one was out on the sidewalks, so she nodded and fetched my key since hers was connected to the same key ring as my truck key, which was currently stuck in the running ignition.

Leaving my ride unattended, she raced around to the curb and dashed across the small front yard, then up the three steps to my miniature porch, and had my door open and held wide by the time I reached her.

“Thanks,” I said, brushing past.

Izzy barely nodded before she hurried back to my truck.

I watched her from the open apartment door until she’d safely gotten into the vehicle and put it back into drive, then I nudged the door shut with my foot and looked down at the girl in my arms.

My chest filled tight with some emotion I couldn’t name, so I shook my head, trying to move past it, and carried her to the couch, where I knelt and eased her down as gently as possible. Since she was asleep, she didn’t latch on to me again or try to keep me close. A part of me was going to miss that bit of dependency, but the rest of me was relieved she no longer needed it.

I reached out hesitantly, then slowly grasped a curl of hair that had fallen into her face to tuck it behind her ear. She didn’t stir but continued to rest peacefully. Closing my eyes, I bowed my head, glad she was done falling apart. I honestly hadn’t known what to do when she’d cried all over me. Not even having three sisters had prepared me for that. Usually, they went and cried on each other, not me, when they needed a hug.

It made me wonder if Haven Gamble had been the first person who’d ever turned to me for comfort. I kind of thought she was. I hadn’t realized holding someone through their grief did shit to you. Like it changed an integral part of your chemical makeup or something. It made me feel responsible for her now, in the most unexplainable way.

Kneeling beside her, I watched her face as she slumbered, and I realized I would probably go to the ends of the earth to keep her from falling so low again. She had trusted me to keep her safe, so a part of me now owned that duty.

“Her phone won’t stop blowing up,” Izzy blurted, startling me into popping to my feet as she crashed through the front door, talking a mile a minute before she was even fully inside. Kicking the door shut behind her, she dumped all her bags on the first open chair she came across and then dug a ringing phone from one of the pockets. “Seriously, Wick. It’s just one call, text, or social media message after another.”

“I thought you’d turned it off,” I said, scratching the back of my burning neck and hoping to conceal the fact I’d been ogling the sleeping girl on my couch.

“I did,” Izzy began, “but then I started to worry that… I don’t know. It just felt wrong to keep it off when we actually need to talk to one of her people and let them know where she is, so I turned it back on, and holy criminy. Topher and three other people tried to get a hold of her just while I was walking from your truck to the front door.”

“He must’ve called her friends, thinking she’d gone to one of them.” I released a groan, wondering how many people Nicholl had just sent into a tailspin from his fervent search. “Asshole probably started a panic among them. I bet everyone’s worried about her now.”

“Well, they should be. Just look at her.”

---