Page 118 of His Wicked Revenge

“She’s been staying over a lot.” I shrug.

Even though I told him in the past that I wasn’t going to drag him into all of this, I feel like I need to now. I need someone to talk to about it, especially now because rage has been at the forefront of all my emotions.

“Please tell me you haven’t gone soft,” he questions with a whine.

I take a much-needed, deep breath and say, “I did get a little soft.”

“Shit.” He sets a bouquet back on the rolling cart and steps over to me. He cautiously looks around to make sure no one is in earshot. My dad is closer to the altar, placing the flowers where needed. “What happened?”

“I was stupid and fell into her trap again,” I begin to explain, keeping my voice low. “She apologized, and it sounded so honest. How she acted was… different than how she acted in the asylum. She played the role so well this time that I fucking fell for it.”

“So you fell in love with her again?” he asks.

“I thought I did,” I respond with the truth. “I was naive and thought she was being honest because of how she apologized. There was so much sincerity in her voice that I⁠—”

“Leo, I’m not judging. You know that, right? It’s who she is,” he reassures me that my feelings are valid. “What changed, though? What made you see through the fog and realize she was lying again?”

“I found her old journal and read it. All the plans she had made for escaping and tricking me into helping her. It just… lifted the haze from my body and showed me who she really was and always has been. That no matter what, she would never truly change.”

“You can’t trust her,” Myles states as a fact, and he is right.

“She thinks everything is fine,” I say. “I need her to believe that nothing has changed.”

“Why? Why put yourself through that again? Just break up with her and ship her off to the asylum like you should have done in the first place.”

I shake my head. “Her being locked up isn't punishment enough, Myles. She doesn’t get to hide behind walls anymore.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I'm still not sure yet, but I know who I need to talk to for help.”

Myles gasps, his hand meeting his chest as he makes light of the conversation. “Am I not enough?”

I laugh, picking up another bouquet and walking to the next pew. “No offense, but you wouldn’t be able to help.”

“Well, I am taking offense to that.” He flips me off and walks backward, snatching up more flowers.

“Did you just flip me off under the roof of a church?”

“It’s not as unholy as the planning in your head.” He smirks, turning around and heading to the front of the aisle.

There is nothing unholy about the planning in my head. If anything, it is pure chaos up there because I don’t know what to do. I can continue to do what I’ve been doing since she waltzed back into my life: make her life a living hell.

But then what? I could do that until I die and probably never feel fulfilled. Plus, if I go that route, I’ll have to tone it down on the lovey-dovey stuff, and I don’t want her to realize something is off.

Sending her back to the asylum isn’t an option. Right?

To Myles, it is the best option. But why should she get to sit behind four walls in comfort? Then again, they would send her to solitary for who knows how long.

She’d lose her mind down there. She had done it before, only from being down there for two weeks. Imagine if she were down there for the rest of her life.

As I head toward the front of the church, my phone rings in my pocket. The ceilings are high, and only the three of us are in here, and the ringing bounces off the walls in an echo. Myles and my dad whip their heads in my direction.

“Sorry!” I apologize and dig my phone out to silence it. But then I notice the name that pops up and step out of the church to take the call. After I agree to take the call, I say, “For once, you have perfect timing.”

“Not getting laid right now?” Reed chuckles on the other end of the phone.

“Given that I’m in a church? No.”