Wretched (Never After, #3)

by Emily McIntire

“A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”

Grief is a weird thing. It’s the only emotion in the world people claim to understand yet treat as an inconvenience. “Time heals all wounds, Evie.” Spare me. Time heals nothing. Just gives things more space to grow and fester and rot.

I’m angry at Nessa for getting herself killed. And I’m angry at Dorothy for killing her.

“Fine,” he finally breathes out. “I’m gonna go dance. Find me a nice fat dick to suck.”

“I’d probably celebrate too if you were leaving.”

“I don’t want to stalk you, pretty girl.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want to fuck you.”

Definitely the best I’ve ever had.

See, what Dorothy doesn’t realize—what nobody else knows—is while our father may be the face of the family business, he’s not the brains. He needs me for that. So she may have his attention and get showered in his love, but she doesn’t truly have his favor. I do. And it starts right here, in my greenhouse full of poppies.

“There’s no one like family, Evie, and there’s no place like home. We have to stick together.”

“Nicholas.” Finally she glances up, straightening off the wall and tilting her head. “Or should I say Brayden?”

In our lives for less than a week and already Brayden Walsh is in our fucking house. My family is full of idiots. My heart slams against my ribs and my fingers curl into fists, nails cutting into my palms.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“You’re in my bubble.” He lifts a brow. “Your bubble?”

“Tell me to sit and eat like a good boy, and I swear to fucking god I’ll do it.”

“You know,” she starts, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to cut off a man’s testicles.”

“Just like a man. Giving the bare minimum and expecting us to be satisfied.

“I want you to get down on your knees and lick my pussy like a good pup.”

I am your judge, jury, and executioner. Which means you answer to me.” I

I know she can take care of herself, but it doesn’t mean she should have to.

Evelina has years of wounds that haven’t been healed, just bandaged with sarcasm and sadness, forming mutilated scar tissue that still oozes when pricked.

“What’s another couple hours?” she mumbles, her eyes growing hazy. I smile. “That’s how much longer you have to live.”

“Listen to me. I won’t ask for your forgiveness.” He glances at the door before locking his frantic eyes back on me. “I don’t want you to forgive me right now. I just want to know you’re out there and there’s a chance. That one day, maybe we’ll meet again, and I’ll walk up to you and say I’m Nicholas Tennyson Woodsworth, my favorite color is blue, I hated school, and I am so fucking in love with you that I can’t imagine living in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”

I don’t love Evelina in spite of her flaws. I love her because of them.

but nothing stopped my soul from aching, crying out for its other half.

And with that single smile, I know I’ve made it home.

“You know, for not believing in romance—” “I’m so fucking in love with you, Evelina Westerly,” he cuts me off. I grin, rising up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Every wretched piece?” He brushes the hair back from my face. “Every single one.”