Page 62 of His Wicked Revenge

“Don’t worry about it, Myles,” I try to brush him off, turning my head to face him with a smile.

“You can’t tell me not to worry about you,” he states with annoyance. “What if she were to stab you again?”

I roll my eyes. “No one is stabbing anyone.”

If only he knew about the knife I used on Veronica. He wouldn’t believe me even if I told him. I’ve never done anything like that before.

“Uncle Leo!” Carter buzzes when he tears his attention from the toy and finally sees me. He plasters a massive smile on his face as he runs up and wraps his arms around my legs.

“Hey, bud.” I ruffle his hair. Myles walks over to Chloe, and thankfully our conversation is paused now that Carter is within listening distance.

“I drew Grandma a picture!” He stares up at me, still holding onto my legs.

“Let’s see it,” I suggest, and he immediately unwraps himself from me.

He has a white piece of paper in his hand. From here, I can see the different colors drawn out, but when he hands it over, I get a better view.

It’s a family photo—all of us, including my mom. We are sitting on a blanket with food and drinks. I peer over the paper to see that the blanket Carter drew is the same one we are using today.

“It’s a picture of today,” I murmur while inspecting the drawing.

“When my mom told me what we were doing today, I wanted to draw it.” A soft smile plays on his lips, but the corners soon turn into a slight frown. “I put Grandma in the drawing.”

“I see that.” I smile down at him. “You made her purple.”

“Well, yeah!” The frown disappears now and is replaced by a wide smile. “It’s her favorite color.”

“She was also purple in your drawing of her and Lucy.” I chuckle.

“I know.” He giggles. “I think I’ll always make her purple.”

I grin, glancing at the photo again. There are trees behind us, and behind them is a rainbow in the drawing. We aren’t at a cemetery in this photo. We are a typical family having a picnic in a park.

For only being nine, Carter has some skill. He’s come a long way from the stuff he was making three years ago.

“It’s perfect, Carter,” I praise, handing his drawing back to him. He takes it and runs over to Chloe.

He plops himself down next to Chloe and Myles and shows them the drawing. They look at it, tears brimming in Chloe’s eyes. She uses one of the napkins to wipe away a tear. I smile while watching Carter explain the drawing to them.

Myles is listening like it is the most exciting story he has ever heard. I glance at my father, who is also watching the interaction. A wide smile spreads across his lips. This is the first time I’ve seen him look truly happy since Mom died.

“So,” Chloe speaks up after Carter begins playing with a toy that he brought with him in his backpack. “You and Camille? It’s getting serious now?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” I clear my throat. “Can we not talk about her?”

“I second that,” Myles huffs.

Chloe turns her head towards him. “What? Don’t you like Camille?”

He inhales a deep breath, side-eyeing me for help, but I keep my mouth shut.

Letting the breath out, he says, “She’s fine. I still think it’s too early for Leo to consider dating. Plus, what if he fell in love in prison, and we don’t know about it yet?”

“Fell in love?” Dad murmurs to himself beside me. “In prison?”

“He could have easily bonded with someone in there.” Myles keeps up the ruse, and I have to swallow my laugh. “We wouldn’t judge you, Leo, if you fell in love with a man. Is he cute? Strong? Can I kick his ass?”

I roll my lips together to keep the laughter at bay, and my mind goes to Reed.