Page 87 of Wicked Spite
“I’ll handle this,” I say, accelerating down the road. “One way or another.”
“Penn,” Reagan says softly, breaking the silence. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I reply, my voice gruff. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”
Reagan’s father has put me in a tight spot, and it’s taking everything in me not to snap.
I focus on the sensation—her fingers, calloused yet tender, tracing patterns on my skin. It’s intimate, vulnerable, andcompletely unexpected. I’m not used to this kind of connection, not with anyone. But damn if it doesn’t feel good.
We drive in silence for a while, her hand still resting on mine, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to breathe.
“You’re too good at this,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone light but failing miserably.
“Maybe I just know you better than you think,” she replies, her lips curving into a small, almost sad smile.
“Don’t get cocky,” I shoot back, but there’s no bite to my words. Just exhaustion and a strange sense of intimacy that shouldn’t exist between us but does, anyway.
“Too late,” she says, her thumb continuing its soothing dance over my skin. And for a moment, just a fleeting heartbeat, I let myself lean into it. Lean into her.
“Keep doing that, and I might just forget how pissed off I am,” I mutter, but my grip on the steering wheel loosens. It’s a small victory, sure, but right now, I’ll take what I can get.
“That’s the idea,” she murmurs, her voice low.
“Smartass,” I reply, but there’s a hint of a smirk on my lips now. Because despite everything, despite the bodies and the blood and the lies, she’s managed to pierce through the armor. She’s managed to reach the part of me that’s still human, still capable of feeling something other than rage.
“Someone’s gotta keep you in check,” she says, her fingers never stopping their gentle caress.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I warn, even though a part of me hopes she does. I hope she keeps pushing, keeps breaking down these walls I’ve built around myself. Because God knows I won’t do it on my own.
Chapter 32
Reagan
In the foyer, laughter and voices mingle with the sweet scent of the heart-shaped cookies that Oakley baked. It’s Valentine’s Day, but also Jeremiah’s birthday. I’m glad Penn and I are leaving for a private date night because I don’t think I can listen to anymore Blackwood men joking about everyone getting laid on Jeremiah’s birthday. He looks like he’s about to burn the entire campus to the ground, and even Lincoln is ganging up on him.
“See you guys tomorrow. If Penn doesn’t, you know, kill me and set me on fire,” I announce to no one in particular, my voice tinged with excitement. It’s been a while since Penn and I have had a moment to ourselves, and I can’t help but crave some alone time with him after everything that happened with Reese.
“You know my idea of a good time,” Penn jokes, pulling me into him.
I still haven’t dealt with my dad, but only because Reese turned eighteen just a few days ago, so there’s really nothing he can do legally to keep her from me. That doesn’t mean Ithink he’s going to give up and let us live in peace, either. I already know he won’t. I planned on getting everything set up for her to finish the last few months of high school somewhere near campus, but Penn wanted me to let him handle it, and I’m doing that because I trust him, and I need a break from handling everything myself.
I spot my sister sitting on the couch between Oakley and Iris, her eyes glued to the glossy pages of a fashion magazine. Her short black hair falls effortlessly around her face, emphasizing her innocence. Seeing her so content brings a smile to my lips, and I share a quick glance with Penn. He grins back, his eyes reflecting everything I’m feeling right now. He has a soft spot for her, and I think it’s only because she’s his little sidekick.
“I see you’re researching how best to spend all my money,” Penn teases Reese. She rolls her eyes, but grins at us before returning to her magazine.
Just a few feet away, Ramsey lounges lazily on a recliner, pretending to be disinterested in the girls’ activity. His act doesn’t fool me, though; I’ve caught him glancing at Reese more than once tonight. He’s going to stay with her here tonight while the rest of us are out for the holiday. As far as I know, my father hasn’t tried to come here, but I wouldn’t feel right about her being here by herself.
“Hey, lil P,” Penn says, playfully slapping Ramsey on the shoulder. Startled, Ramsey tears his gaze from Reese, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Ready for your big night of babysitting?” Penn asks Ramsey, a smirk dancing across his lips.
“Excuse me?” Reese snaps her head up, glaring at Penn. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m literally an adult.”
Penn laughs softly. “You’ll always be my little sister, little hellion,” he says, using the nickname that never fails to makeher most annoyed. “Besides, I think keeping Ramsey occupied could do him some good. He spends way too much time glued to his computer.”
At that, Ramsey groans, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Well, maybe if someone else in this family knew how to handle technology, I wouldn’t have to be on it all the time.” He makes his voice a few octaves higher and whiny when he mimics the other Blackwood boys by saying, “Find me this. Where does he live? I need a floor plan for this house. Disable this camera system. You guys are annoying.”
Oakley and Iris burst into laughter, clearly amused by Ramsey’s exasperation. Reese grins wickedly, mischief glinting in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Penn. I’ve got big plans for Ramsey tonight.” She leans in conspiratorially, whispering loud enough for us to hear, “Think…glitter.”
“God help me,” Ramsey mutters under his breath, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re not putting makeup on me; I swear to fuck I’ll kill us all.”
