Page 55 of Sicko


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“Oh yeah?” I say, a flash of anger washing over me. “Then what was that speech about last night when you were all ‘who hurt you, Jade. Tell me, Jade. I would go to jai—’” His hand is at my throat, his fingers flexing to cut off my rant.

He leans down, his mouth on my ear. “Say the next words and see what fucking happens.”

I lean up, my nose touching his, eyes crossed from his proximity. “You—” His tongue slides across my mouth and my insides solidify, either from shock or sheer emotion. Probably a combination of both.

Royce chuckles, pushing up from the bed. “Since I can’t beat you and then fuck you—in that order—I’ll just have to lick you every time you want to open that fucking mouth. Slim will be on your tail,” he says, heading for the exit. “So don’t do anything fucking stupid.” When he opens the door, my eyes find Wicked.

For a second, it’s just he and I. He stands, towering over my small frame. “You’re lying. He knows it, but thinks he doesn’t care right now, but Jade, when he finds out whatever it is that you’re hiding, it’s going to be catastrophic, so do me a favor.”

I pause, peering up at him from under my lashes.

“Don’t fucking tell him.” Then he turns and heads for the door. Blowing out a breath of air, I fall back on my bed, confusion warping my vision. I wouldn’t tell Royce anything anyway, but the problem with that is that Royce and I usually pick up on each other’s feelings. We were linked from birth, and I fear that the more time we spend around one another, the quicker our souls are figuring that out.

I open the text to Wicked.

Me: Does he know you’re texting me?

It’s probably a stupid question, but I have to know. I can’t read Wicked or the vibe that he sends out, but I also don’t think he’d do anything to upset Royce either. I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but I think they’re even closer than Royce is, or was, to Orson and Storm. Storm and I still keep in contact occasionally, but not so much Orson. He’s all famous and rich, and living his best life in Hollywood Hills with India, but I know that if I turn up on his doorstep, or need anything, he’s still the brother I grew to love. I wonder if Royce keeps in contact with them both, bet he does.

My phone sounds off in my hand and I open the text.

Wicked: No.

I read over the word again. And then again. Maybe I read him wrong, or maybe whatever it is that is going on between Wicked and I is completely platonic. I don’t know what to write back, so I put my phone down and pull out my textbooks, flipping through the pages.

A few hours later, I stretch my arms above my head, catching the time. “Shit.” My phone starts ringing on my bed. I hit answer.

“Jade,” James says. “Be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes,” I whisper. I got so lost in my studying that I lost track of time. Unacceptable. I usually need an hour to talk myself into what’s about to happen. Since the last time James and I were together, things have shifted somewhat. He’s turning harder. Angrier.

I quickly remove my clothes and slip into a tight black crop top with thin straps and long high waisted black pants, pairing them with my blood-red Valentino shoes and Gucci belt.

“Fuck!” I pick up my phone, finding J’s name and hitting dial, hoping he picks up in time.

“Yes?”

“We have a problem.”

“What is it?” James asks. I can hear the sound of cars in the background, so he must be on his way.

“Royce has put one of his friends on watch for me. I don’t know why, but I think, well I’m assuming, that person will be down in the parking lot. They can’t see me going out, they’ll ask questions.”

“Yes they can, Jade. Tell them you have a business meeting with one of your out of town bosses. Which you do.”

My palms sweat with nerves. “That should work.”

“I’ll see you in fifteen.” He hangs up on me, and I look around my room nervously. I know that Royce will lose his shit if he thinks I lied to him, and on top of that, Wicked is smarter than he looks. What if he starts putting the breadcrumbs together and figures out what I’ve been hiding?

I open a text to Royce, hoping he’s too drunk to read into anything.

Me: Just so you know, work tonight is an outing with one of my overseas bosses and her colleague.

I put my phone down and rush through my makeup, and then run a brush through my hair.

Royce: What? Where?

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