Page 17 of His Wicked Revenge

“I’ll explain one day,” she tells me, like it’s a promise. “When you get released and if you find your way to me.”

“Oh, I’ll find you, Veronica.” I laugh wickedly. Shifting forward, I lock eyes with hers and whisper, “Once I’m free of this place, I’ll hunt you down and make you pay for what you did to me.”

Veronica hangs up the phone, but I don’t miss the bob in her throat from how hard she swallows. She is too strong to show it, but I know that she could be worried about my threat.

I stay in my spot, the phone still resting on the side of my head. A devilish smirk forms on my lips as I watch her walk away from me. Veronica glances over her shoulder to where I am sitting and swallows hard again.

She has no idea what she is in for when I get released.

And I have years to come up with a revenge plan.

CHAPTER 9

Leo

Two Years Later

I inhale my first breath of freedom.

Walking through the door from the prison to the parking lot is surreal.

I have been waiting for this day for three years: 36 months of waiting to get my life back, 1,095 days of missing my family, 26,280 hours of behaving, 1,576,800 minutes of replaying the worst decision I ever made, and a whopping 94,608,000 seconds of plotting how to get my revenge on Veronica.

But revenge is the last thing on my mind right now.

I peek over my shoulder, seeing the guard hasn’t followed me. He remains at the door, watching my movements, but he doesn’t need to escort me to my father. Knowing I’m not being followed, I feel lighter—a spark of relief, a calming sense of hope.

The May heat feels especially warm today, with the bright sun on full display in the sky, but I couldn’t care less how hot it is. It could be below freezing, and I’d be happy to step into the chaotic snowstorm.

I’m free.

It could have been five years sitting behind bars, but thankfully, taking notes from Walter's silence paid off. I didn’t get into any fights, kept to myself, and always did what I was told, so I was released on good behavior. When I wasn’t being a goody two-shoes, I was planning ways to get revenge on Veronica.

When I was brought to prison, the only personal items I had were my phone and wallet. That is all I left with—that and a journal I bought from the commissary.

Since I was taken straight from the hospital to prison, I had arrived in the hospital clothes they provided me. There was no way I could have put the clothes I arrived wearing back on. Not with them having blood all over them.

Thankfully, the woman at the release station was kind enough to give me clean clothes, so I didn’t have to leave here in my jumpsuit.

A decent pair of jeans with a navy blue crewneck sweater. Seems like I can’t escape that damn color just yet, but the fact that I am still wearing the same jumpsuit color doesn’t get my mood down as I walk happily into the parking lot.

With the sun shining brightly, I lift my hand over my eyes to shield the light as I look for my father’s car. He is leaning against the hood, arms crossed over his chest. A slight smile plays on his lips as I approach him.

He pushes off the car and paces towards me, throwing his arms around me when we crash into each other. We hug each other tight, not wanting to let this moment slip away.

“It’s good to see you like this, Leo,” he says.

“It’s good to be out.” Tears form in my eyes while I stare at my father’s face. Hearing his voice clear as day.

Face to face. No window between us. No muffled sounds through a dingy phone.

“I meant happy. But seeing you out of that place is great, too,” he says as he unwraps his arms from me. Stepping back and grabbing my shoulders, he looks me over before asking, “Tell me, what is the thing you missed the most?”

“All of you—you, Chloe, Myles, Carter—I missed every single one of you…” I say as he lets go and turns around, ushering me towards the car. “And maybe tacos from that Mexican place we love,” I joke, earning me a chuckle.

“Let’s get you out of here. Some more people are excited to see you.”

We pull up to my parents' house. Chloe’s car is sitting in the driveway, making me immediately happy that she is there. After a year of being locked up, she finally agreed to visit me. At first, it was only once a month, but after three months, she came more often. My dad, however, visited me weekly.