Page 113 of The Wicked
I knew Devil was confused. Despite his denial, I knew he felt something for Upper, but he was scared to lean into it; I knew he felt something for me too, but what he had with Upper was stronger. I knew it; I saw it. And I was partly mad that he had treated Upper that way.
None of us deserved this situation we were in, but hell, if the god of situations cared what we did or did not deserve at this—
“If you’re—”
“Motherfucker!”
“—looking to jump, I suggest the left side of the railing. It’s steeper. One hit, you’ll crack your skull on the cobblestones, death on impact. I’ve experimented and found that it’s more efficient.”
My heart was beating ten times per second; I’d almost jumped out of my skin. I turned to see Elio sitting on the ground, his back against a carved stone chair, with a bottle of cheap beer in his grip. He had his attention on me as he asked:
“So, are you jumping, or would you like a push?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Zahra
“You know what? I’ll take the push.”
Elio paused as if trying to see if I was serious, and when I didn’t counter my statement, he breathed out in relief. “Oh, finally.” He attempted to stand, but I quickly responded.
“That was a joke! Jesus.”
The man groaned in annoyance before he sat back down, looking away from me.
I chuckled at how he’d almost become shiny with excitement at the prospect of getting to push me over the railing. “Why are you so eager to kill me?”
“It is one of my many fantasies.”
“Oooh, you have fantasies about me?” I pressed my back to the brick railing, my front facing him.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Sorry, my mind already drove me down that route, and now I’m curious to know more about these fantasies you seem to be having.”
He shook his head, not responding as he brought the beer bottle to his lips while he took a swig, his throat working as he swallowed.
I knew I’d gone out of that house to be alone, but somehow, I was more comfortable in his presence.
“You don’t look like a beer kinda guy,” I voiced into the silence.
“I also don’t look like the suicidekindaguy, but here we are,”he said casually while I flinched at the word, shifting uncomfortably.
“You’re so nonchalant about it.”
“Hm.”
“Why?”
“Can you shut up?”
“What?”
“I do not appreciate the screech in your voice. It doesn’t help my migraine. So I would appreciate your silence.”
I threw my head back and laughed, my chest vibrating from how amused I was by his response. Looking back at him, I caught his eyes on me, intense and a little guarded as his gaze swept up and down my body.
The heat from his stare made me shift on my feet, and my laugh simmered down while I made sure to ignore the faint flutter that came with his attention.
