Page 81 of Wicked & Wildflower

“Who the fuck did this, Dahlia?” he asks, voice heavy and strained.

Written across the page in black ink is one word:WHORE.

26

Wicked

You’re Invaluable, Everett

“You’re angry.”

My eyes filter to my brother, staring me down with confusion on his face, before they flutter back to Dahlia’s office doorway, where I watch her sort through the reports she’ll need for our meeting in ten minutes.

Dawn Patrol, a well-known surf wear brand, is looking to do a collaboration with Heathen’s. A line of boards and apparel designed in partnership with us. Well, with Leo. He’ll be the face of the campaign, obviously. I’m not entirely sure why I need to be here, but apparently, as the co-owner of the business, my presence is required, even if it’s not necessarily important. Plus, Dahlia is here.

Technically, Dahlia doesn’t have to be here either. She works for the small business initiative, not Heathen’s itself. With her background in marketing, though, Leo thought it would be a good idea to have her involved, to help determine the benefitsand impact this partnership could have on our store and the boardwalk as a whole.

She looks nervous, chewing on her lip as she reviews a piece of paper laid out on her desk in front of her. She’s dressed professionally, in a black pencil skirt that hugs her thighs flawlessly. A deep red, v-neck blouse with long sleeves is tucked into that skirt, clinging to every one of her curves. She finished off her look with a pair of black pumps that have me damn near salivating. I want that skirt hiked up to her waist. I want those legs wrapped around my head and those heels digging into my back.

Fuck.

I swallow, attempting to readjust myself inconspicuously.

Yeah, I am angry—angry with her, and the way she looks makes me keep forgetting. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me, that this has been going on sinceOctober.”

“It’s not because she didn’t trust you,” Leo says. “She didn’t tell anyone, not even Darby.

I think she genuinely thought it was no big deal, especially since, prior to Saturday, it’d been a one-time thing.”

“Then I’m angry at her for being so fucking obtuse to her own safety.”

“I’m sure she would’ve told you about the notes once she found the second one. I mean, if you hadn’t found it yourself.”

Across the office, I know she can’t hear us, but her head snaps sideways all the same, meeting my face. She gives me an apologetic smile, and I only nod back. Saturday night, she hardly even seemed upset at the note we’d found, like she was numb to it. Those kinds of names. That kind of harassment. She said she’s convinced it’s the other parents at Lou’s school just trying to remind her how unwelcome she is.

When I asked her why they’d go so far, her only response was that it’s nothing new.

That made me see red.

I’m angry at her for not telling me, but more than that, I’m angry she thinks this is normal, that she believes she deserves this somehow. I’m also scared. I’m so afraid of her being hurt, afraid of things going so far that she runs away, that she begins to feel unsafe in the place I’ve always felt safest in. That Pacific Shores stops feeling like home to her. I want her to feel at home here. I want her to feel at home with me.

“I’m sorry I doubted your feelings for her.” My brother’s voice breaks my focus, and I realize I’ve been staring after Dahlia again. “I’m sorry I told you to stay away from her.”

“Forgiven,” I murmur quietly. I can’t blame my brother for that, not with the way I typically behave, with how important I can now see Dahlia has become to him. Not with all the scars I now know she bears.

“I love you,” he adds.

I look at him, blue eyes soft and sincere. The small smile that comes to my lips isn’t forced when I respond, “I love you too.”

Leo’s unafraid of affection, and I suppose I’m the same. My mom drilled it into us from a young age. It took a while for Leo to say those words to her after his mother died and his father abandoned him.

My mom, however, told him she loved him the day his father called and informed her he’d fled the state and left Leo with us, that he wasn’t coming back. She sat all three of us down—Leo, Elena, and me—and told us Leo wasn’t going anywhere. Then, she told him that she loved him. I don’t think he’d heard the words since before his mother’s passing a year prior.

My parents fought for guardianship so Leo wouldn’t have to go into foster care. My mom told him she loved him every morning when we left for school and every afternoon when we returned. I don’t remember when he began saying it back to her, but I do remember the first time he said it to me.

The day Zach died.

It was as if Leo was afraid I’d be next, and he needed me to know. He has been that way since, so I always say it back. I make sure he knows too.

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