Page 158 of Sick Boys


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“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Why?” he asks.

“Even if he was a bastard, he was still your father,” I say.

He swallows and closes his eyes as the rain falls down on him. “I thought I’d be angry. Scared. Bitter.” There’s a pause. “But all I feel is peace.”

Felix and Alistair look at him, and Ali reaches for his hand. “You had to make a tough choice.”

“I don’t regret it,” Dylan says. “Not even one second.” He turns his head and looks at me. “Because he hurt you and Eve. I’ll never be able to forgive him for that.” He licks a droplet of water off his top lip. “And instead of rotting in jail … he can rot in hell.”

Suddenly, a bunch of cars pull up and out step a bunch of my father’s men, carrying guns like they’re about to go to war. But we’re just sitting here in the grass trying to catch our breath, and the contrast is huge.

“Where is he?” my father asks as he gets out of the car.

Dylan makes a face and points at The Edge. “He went flying like a meatball. I think you’ll find his guts splattered on the ground down below. A fun twist on spaghetti.”

My father’s face contorts, and he frowns, confused. “What?”

“He jumped,” Felix says.

“Jumped?” My father’s face darkens. “I highly doubt that. Did you kill him?”

“No,” I interject. “He threatened to kill us.”

“So you threw him overboard.”

“He dragged me with him,” Dylan says, petting the snake. “And Nessie took care of him.”

“Nessie …” my father repeats like it’s all one horrible joke, but it isn’t. “The snake?”

Dylan sports a smirk. “Nessie’s the real hero here.”

My father snorts and shakes his head. “I can’t believe this …”

“It’s the truth, though,” I say, but I’m not sure he’s gonna believe it.

“We took care of the threat. No one asked you to come to Pen’s rescue,” Felix says.

My father clutches his gun tighter. “Watch your mouth, or I’ll put a bullet through those shiny teeth of yours.”

“Felix, Dad,” I interject as I get up from the ground. I block his view with my body. “Enough blood has been spilled tonight.”

My father just stares at me like he’s wondering whether or not to go behind my back and kill these boys too for good measure, but I won’t let him.

They might deserve it, but I can’t live knowing they won’t.

I simply couldn’t exist.

I take a breath and glance at the boys over my shoulder. These boys who protected me with their lives, who wanted to take a bullet for me, who killed the sole person responsible for my sister’s misery, despite the fact that it would cost them everything.

All because they cared so much about my sister they wanted to find out who hurt her just as much as I wanted to know.

I once thought they were bullies. Bad guys. Villains.

But they really are heroes.

Anti-heroes.

And they deserve far more than the hardship they received.

“You realize that Caruso’s death is not going to come without cost,” my father says. “There’s going to—”

“Be a huge shake-up,” I muse. “I know.”

He gives me a judgmental look for saying that word out loud. “You know we don’t—”

“Call ourselves that,” I fill in. “Know that too.”

Now he’s sighing. Out loud.

“But we know the truth now,” I say. “Which is exactly what I told you I would do when I came here.” A gentle smile forms on my lips. “Aren’t you proud of me, Dad?”

His face softens, and he lowers his gun, then opens his arms. “Come here.”

I run into his hug, melting away against the safety of his warmth and love.

Something I’ll never take for granted, ever again.

“You got revenge for your sister. You took care of the person responsible.”

“And she even set the school on fire,” Dylan adds with a grin, like he’s proud of me or something, and it makes me chuckle.

My father focuses his gaze on me and says, “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I say, and I hug him tight.

“Let’s go home,” he says, and he tries to tug me along.

“Not yet,” I say. “We need to make sure they’re taken care of first.” I look at the boys, who are all bloodied up from the big fight in the Skull & Serpent Society building, and especially Dylan.

“Right.” My father snaps his fingers, and some of his men step forward with a first-aid kit. They immediately go to work on their wounds, fixing up Dylan first since he’s the most injured.

“Don’t touch me,” Felix barks, and he snatches the tape and gauze right out of one guy’s hands. However, he’s having trouble applying it to his cut. Smiling, I walk toward him and go to my knees to help him out.

I grab the gauze from his hands and he watches me with a leery eye while I put it around his wound. But he doesn’t try to stop me.

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