Page 172 of The Revenge Plan (Forbidden Descendants 1)

“That’s the kind of pop Wick got when we went spook housing,” I tried to explain through the tears.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Cannon blasted out a stream of expletives and ran his hand over his dark, shaved head as he paced the floor in front of me. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I bawled, rocking myself. “He’s my floaty. My life raft. What’re we going to do if he—”

“Don’t say it,” he warned, pointing at me sternly. “Don’t fucking say it.” After a moment of looking like he might pass out too, he blew out a long, steadying breath, and then glanced at me, rasping, “He’s going to be okay.”

I nodded and wiped my eyes, and that’s how Wick’s family found us.

Izzy arrived first, streaking forward to sit on the bench with me to wrap me in her arms. I clutched her for dear life, knowing I needed to pull myself together because I definitely didn’t have the right to freak out any more than Wick’s own sister did. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. I was barely holding it together.

Only a minute later, Darcy showed up, pulling Cannon and then me into a comforting hug. Then Charlie was racing forward with an older couple trailing not far behind her. Wick’s dad looked like an older, gray-headed version of him, and his mom most resembled Darcy.

After they greeted their two older daughters and even Cannon as if he was one of their own, Mrs. Webster turned to me. I’d probably gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep the entire night, my eyes were still swollen from crying, and my nose was no doubt beet red.

But she smiled affectionately. “So, you’re Haven, Wick’s new roommate? My, such a pretty thing.”

I started crying again, harder than before. I couldn’t seem to help it.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, trying to get myself under control. “I’m so sorry. I…I should’ve got him here sooner. I should’ve tried to wake him up more often. This is all my fault. I should’ve—”

Cannon’s the one who gripped my shoulders as he came up behind me and said, “Don’t listen to her, Jane. Haven did everything right. She’s just being hard on herself.”

I blinked at him, sure I’d misheard him because if anyone would agree that I was to blame for all this, it would be him.

But then I turned back to his mom, repeating, “Jane? As in Jane Austen, and Pride and Prejudice, and Jane Bennet?”

Mrs. Webster’s eyes glittered affectionately. “Wick told you about my naming scheme, huh?”

I bobbed my head up and down. “He forgot to mention that your name was Jane though.”

“Or probably that his dad’s name is Charles either, I imagine,” she added, motioning toward her husband. I glanced at him, seeing Wick all over his features before it struck me: Charles Bingley had ended up with Jane Bennet in Pride and Prejudice.

“Aww,” I murmured, cooing out my adoration. “That’s so neat.”

When tears filled my eyes yet again, Jane chuckled affectionately and pulled me into a hug. “You poor thing. You’ve had a long, hard night, haven’t you?”

I nodded and rested my head on her shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry I flipped out on you.”

She stroked my hair a moment and then started asking questions. I told her about the guys bringing Wick home with a concussion, and Cannon filled in the parts about how he’d gotten the injury in the first place and what the trainers and team doctor had said about it.

“Crazy

how hard they practice, giving each other concussions,” Darcy murmured, shaking her head in disapproval.

I winced and met Cannon’s gaze. When I realized he wasn’t going to oust me for my part in causing the concussion, I couldn’t handle it; I ended up blurting, “That was my fault too.”

When I got a funny look for my confession, I broke down and I told his family everything. As soon as I got to the part of the story about the condom on the bed, though, Charlie actually cheered.

“Oh my God, you used my idea! That is so awesome.”

“Yeah.” I cringed. “Except it wasn’t at all. It turned out awful and got both me and Wick hurt.”

I went on to tell them about Topher catching us, and the three guys beating Wick up, and then my ex-boyfriend slapping me.

“Oh, wow. Pumpernickel actually hit you?” Darcy gasped, her jaw falling open as she stepped close to examine my bruise.

I nodded. “Slapped.”

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