My Wicked Heart (Wicked Poison 2)

“Beckham.” Our father looks at both of us and nods to his son. “It’s time to go now, son.” Beckham looks to me.

“I have my car.” I smile, but it’s forced and he knows it but doesn’t question me even though I am lying. Beckham’s eyes are red, and his face is flushed. He needs rest and to get away from here, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him we needed to leave. He needs to come to that realization on his own.

“You right to get home, Rylee?” our father asks, just to make sure. I nod, and he grips his hands around Beckham, and Beckham falls into him as they make their way to the car.

Our two chairs are the only ones left.

Everything else has been packed up.

The seat next to me squeaks, and I turn to see August. I look past him to make sure my brother is gone before I give him my full attention.

I can’t help myself.

I can’t stop myself.

My hands reach for his face, my body leans in, and my lips make a connection with his. I kiss him with everything I have left under the night’s sky.

He doesn’t kiss me back at first, just lets me kiss him until his hands find my face and he grips it hard. His fingers dig into the side of my cheeks, bruising as he does, while his lips punish me.

For what, I’m not aware.

But I’m helpless to stop him.

August’s tongue slides against mine, and it’s like a bonfire of feelings ignite.

Pain.

Hurt.

Love.

Lust.

Need.

Want.

One of them stands out more than the others, but I know all of these feelings are valid.

I pull back first, breaking his lips from mine but keeping close. His hands stay on my face as his forest green eyes find mine.

“Rich girl,” he says with a sad smile.

“August,” I say back in barely a whisper.

The rain continues to fall around us, but neither of us seems to care.

“Where have you been?” I ask. He drops his hands and turns to look at the grave.

“Tidying up business,” he says. “I’m leaving in a month, once all this is done and dusted.”

My heart rate picks up at his words.

Leaving. Me.

Holy shit.

No.

No.

My hands start feeling hot, and I place them in my lap, staring at the ground.

“I’ll go with you,” I say in a low voice.

“No can do, rich girl. I’m a fucked-up man, and I would never take you from the people you love.” He pauses. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he finishes.

“This isn’t fair,” I reply. I want him to look at me, but his gaze remains locked in front of him.

“Life isn’t fair. I’ve known this for a long time.”

“Where do you plan to go?” I ask.

“Anywhere but here. There were only ever two good things here. And one of them just left me.” His eyes shift to where she’s buried, and a lone tear travels down his cheek. He may think I can’t see it because of the rain, but I do.

“The other isn’t enough to keep you here?” I try. I would beg if I thought it would change anything.

“I would do nothing but destroy the other’s life, and that is not something I would be willing to do, rich girl.”

“Fuck it up. Destroy it. I don’t care,” I say in a loud, manic voice. He reaches for me, pulls me from the chair, and brings me to his lap.

“Tsk tsk, rich girl, you have a life … a good one. You don’t need it destroyed. Think of me as a moment in time,” he says, and I shake my head at his words. “You were my favorite moment in time if that’s any consolation.” A flash of lightning streaks across the sky.

“I don’t want to be a moment, August.”

He reaches up, pushes a strand of hair out of my face. “It’s all we get.”

I lean in and lay my head on his chest, taking him all in, as much as I can possibly take.

He’s leaving me.

In a month.

“My mother is here,” he says as I pull back. She’s standing under a tree, getting wet but smoking a cigarette. I push off August but stay close to him as he stands. She walks over to us, putting the cigarette out as she does until she’s standing in front of us. August’s hands are in fists at his sides as he bites his bottom lip in anger.

“Do you want time here by yourself?” I ask.

She turns to me, squinting. “No,” she declares, then looks back to August. “I came to see you. Are you okay?” she asks, and he laughs. Laughs so loud that I startle. “August.” He stops when she says his name.

“You need to leave before I lay you next to her,” August spits at her.

She doesn’t seem shocked by his words. At all!