The Wicked Trilogy: Caleb & Margo (Fallen Royals #1-3), page 44
Her mom was gone. Her dad was in prison.
The only one left in the equation was me.
I shake out my limbs, satisfied. I’ve read through the paperwork multiple times. The company put no stipulations on my inheritance except age. Uncle David, as my legal ward, got a stipend every month to cover my expenses. I assumed he passed along at least a slight portion of them onto Eli’s family. They were the ones who fed me and gave me a place to stay, after all.
We lived in peace until this year.
“You walk out that door, you don’t get to come back!” Uncle David roars behind me.
It’s a pity that family has a way of disappointing you—even when you know to expect it.
“If I never see your face again, I’ll die happy.” I salute him and walk out the door. Something crashes behind me. I keep going, liberated by my choices, until I’m hit in the back of my head.
I crumple.
Blackout.
28
Margo
Caleb has disappeared—again. I swear to God, I’m going to kill his uncle.
I get to their front porch, then freeze, unwilling to go any farther. I’m pretty sure the family hates me for reasons I can’t remember. And a little thing like memory loss wouldn’t hold up against years of anger.
Riley climbs out of the car behind me. “I don’t think anyone is here.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Why?”
She shrugs. “No lights on, and it’s dark out?”
“Right.” I ring the doorbell and hold my breath.
No one answers. We look at each other.
“So… you ever going to tell me what happened with your social worker?”
I grimace. “Yeah, she wants me to see a therapist. I start going next week. I’m going in.”
“Margo—”
I twist the doorknob, expecting sirens. Nothing. We creep into the foyer as quietly as we can. Riley follows close behind me, almost touching my back. When no one comes running, we both straighten.
“A therapist? You can’t just say that and then walk into someone else’s house,” she whispers.
“Caleb is in here,” I answer, matching her low tone. “I can feel it.”
“I’ll stand lookout, I guess. You search for him.” She shivers. “I’m picturing him tied up somewhere. Is that creepy?”
I elbow her. “Don’t even think that.”
Eli saunters in through the open door, and both of us jump.
“I told you to wait in the truck,” Riley whisper-yells.
“Since when do I listen to you?” He rolls his eyes. “I moved it around the corner just in case we need to make a run for it.”
Our eyes go wide, and he laughs.
“Kidding.”
Sure he is.
Eli and I venture farther into the house while Riley hangs back. We split up, me taking the first floor and Eli heading up the stairs. The house is giant, I’ll just say that. There are rooms upon rooms, each more extravagant than the last. But more than that, they’re old. Antique furniture and dark wood on the walls. Rugs that have probably never been stepped on, chairs and couches that’ve never had kids bounce on them.
It’s cold. Worse than Caleb’s house.
I get to a closed door and pause in front of it. Up until now, everything has been open. I hesitate for a fraction of a second.
A low moan comes from the other side.
I shove the door open, shocked at the darkness of the room. After a moment of feeling along the wall, my fingers hit the light switch.
Blinding lights flicker on in the ceiling.
My gaze flies around the room—a game room with a pinball machine, a pool table, and other various games—and lands on Caleb.
He’s on the floor, his back against the wall. Like he was sitting and then fell over. His eyes are closed.
There’s blood on the wall. Just a smear, but enough that my heart hammers.
I rush to him, falling to my knees. “Caleb, wake up.”
His eyes open. He blinks up at me, squinting, then pushes himself up. “What are you doing here?”
“Coming to rescue you.”
He shakes his head, then abruptly stops. He watches me while his hand goes to the back of his head, probing. “What day is it?”
My eyebrow goes up of its own accord. “Huh?”
“The day—or night, judging from the dark room behind you.”
“Glad you’re with it enough to notice it’s dark out,” I grumble. “It’s Saturday night. Like eight-ish. I texted you twice, but you didn’t respond, and I got worried. Why?”
“Just wanted to see how long it took you to notice.”
“You’re really going to dissect the time it took me to find you?”
He shrugs and climbs to his feet. I rise, too, holding out my hands. He doesn’t need me, although he does take one of my hands, tugging me closer.
He rubs his thumb between my brows.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to erase your concern.”
I scoff. “I found you on the floor in a dark room. I’m not supposed to be concerned?”
He shrugs. “Nope. I’m fine.” He leads me out of the room, into a hallway that cuts straight to the kitchen. He grabs a bag of frozen veggies and puts it to the back of his head, winking at me. “Let’s leave.”
“Eli is still wandering around,” I say.
He pauses. “Is he now?”
“Nope!” Eli says, rushing toward us. He propels Riley in front of us. “Your aunt and uncle just got home.”
Caleb straightens. “Everyone out!”
We slip out the back door, around the side of the house. The garage door opening is loud, and we wait until it’s silent for us to open the gate. We slink along the tall shrubs dividing the property from their neighbors, and I take a moment to cast a silent thank you that Eli moved his truck.
Once we’re in, all of us let out relieved sighs. I lean into Caleb’s side, wrapping my arms around him.
“Didn’t take you very long at all,” he muses. “Eli?”
He glances back at us. “Well, we all know what happened last time…”
I shudder.
“I told him to shove it,” he informs us. “And then he hit me with something… I don’t know. I was on my way out.”
We’re on the road, but I still push up onto my knees and move the bag out of the way. He leans forward slightly, letting me inspect his scalp. There’s an inch-long gash of dried blood just above where his neck meets his skull.
“He could’ve killed you,” I whisper.
Eli growls. “This is ridiculous. I’m telling my parents—not all of it, don’t throw a fucking hissy fit back there.”
Caleb doesn’t react.
“They won’t let David come back. We’ll change the locks—”
“I just have to last four more months,” Caleb says woodenly. “That’s all.”
“That’s all,” Eli sneers.
I imagine this isn’t the first time they’ve had such a conversation.
We end up back at Eli’s house, and the four of us pile out. I hang back a minute, sending a text to Robert and Lenora. Angela made a point about communication, and I want to do well. I want them to actually like me enough to let me stay.
Hence the texting.
A minute later my phone buzzes.
Robert: Len and I are fine with you sleeping over. Have fun with Riley!
Okay, so maybe my communication isn’t the best…
“Come on, Wolfe!” Eli yells. “We’re ordering pizza!”
I tuck my phone away and go in, taking a deep breath. Riley and Eli are in the kitchen. I peek into the living room and dining room, then make my way down to the basement.
Caleb is standing in the middle of the room. His attention is focused on his bed.
“You okay?” I ask.
He turns toward me. His eyes are dark. He lowers the frozen bag from his head and beckons me closer. “You came for me.”
I shift, taking a small step in his direction.
“Margo.”
“Don’t make it a big deal.”
He meets me halfway, his hand sliding around my neck and into my hair.
I melt. Can’t help it. I hold on to his waist and tip my head back. He leans down, and my heart pounds, tremors spreading through me. His lips are millimeters away, and he pauses.
“It is a big deal. Can you just admit that?”
I press my lips together.
He smiles, twisting to the side. He kisses the corner of my mouth.
I’m already winded.
“You care so damn much.”
I shake my head. “Stop.”
“Is it a bad thing?”
Is it? Caring about people gets them taken away.
Caleb’s whole body is flush against mine. I can feel just how much he cares. His lips travel down the side of my jaw, to my throat. I jump at the scrape of his teeth on my skin, the feeling sending tingles through me like runaway firecrackers.
“God,” I moan. “Fine. It is a big deal. I hate your uncle for hitting you. I wish you didn’t get hurt. I—”
I almost just confessed my heart away because he’s kissing me.
Grow up, Margo.
I grab his face and drag it to mine. I capture his lower lip in my teeth, nipping and releasing. He growls deep in the back of his throat, but he lets me have control. I walk him backward until his knees hit the side of the bed.
He lowers himself, and I straddle him, opening his lips and sliding my tongue into his mouth. His hips raise ever so slightly, his erection rubbing against my core.
“I need to feel you,” I whisper. “Is this going to hurt?”
“Fuck, no,” he says.
He reaches over to his nightstand and finds a condom while I yank off my leggings. I climb back on him and unbuckle his pants, then tug them down far enough for his erection to spring free. Impulsively, I scoot back and lean down. We did this once—right after the masquerade ball—but this is going to be different.
“Ah, fuck,” he says.
Slowly, I lean forward and lick up his length. His groan is an encouragement, and I swirl my tongue over the head of his cock. I take him in my mouth, my tongue sliding around, and his thighs automatically tense. I open my jaw wider, letting him in deeper. He hits the back of my throat, but I don’t gag. My nostrils flare.
Deeper.
He hisses out a breath. I come back up, sucking and stroking him with my hand. His fingers wind in my hair, taking back an ounce of power.
“Fuck, Margo,” he grunts.
I keep going until he can’t control the movement of his hips.
He abruptly yanks me up onto his chest. “If you keep doing that, I’ll come, and where would that leave you?” He rolls a condom on, his eyes on mine.
I barely have time to catch my breath, then he drives up into me.
We both groan.
I put my hands on his chest, leaning back. He makes me feel complete. And yeah, that’s some bullshit we could go over in therapy, but right now? I let my head fall back and I feel it. I rise, thrilled at the sight of him between my legs, then slowly lower back onto him. I’m shakier than a newborn deer, every micromovement sending waves of electricity through me.
Once I’m steady, I move faster. Our thighs slap together.
His grip tightens on my hips, slamming me down onto him.
“Look at me.” His hand slips to my clit.
I gasp, holding on to him. It’s too much. There’s too much emotion assaulting me. He’s hitting a spot deep inside me, working me up higher. I freeze, and an orgasm crashes over me. It’s hardly over when he flips me onto my back and thrusts into me.
His pace is brutal, but it doesn’t last. He shudders above me, letting his head fall to my shoulder as he comes. His whole body jerks, then stills.
“Did that make your head worse?” I ask.
He snorts. “Maybe. But it was worth it.”
“Come on, lovebirds,” Eli yells from the top of the stairs. “Pizza is here!”
“Perfect timing,” Caleb murmurs. He kisses the tip of my nose and hops up.
I follow him into the bathroom, and we clean up in silence.
We walk into the kitchen, and Riley and Eli grin at us.
“Couldn’t wait until after we ate, huh?” Eli laughs. He throws an ice pack at Caleb.
My face heats up. We were pretty quiet, but—
“You reek of sex,” Eli continues. “Seriously, guys. It’s kind of turning me on.”
Riley jabs him with her elbow.
I go to the boxes of pizza, ignoring their chatter. I’m still tangled in a web of worry. He probably has a concussion. I just fucked a concussed person.
I don’t have an appetite. I stare down at the pizza, inhaling the scent of cheese and garlic, and my stomach turns over.
It isn’t just finding Caleb bloody and alone in his uncle’s house. It’s that plus the fact that he kissed my nose and my heart skipped a beat. It’s that Angela visited and she asked how I was doing, and for the first time in a really freaking long time, I was able to say, Great!
We talked about long-term fostering, going to court to petition for the Jenkins’s right to adopt me, the steps we’d have to take. She mentioned restarting therapy, and Robert and Lenora agreed.
I exhale and close the lid on the pizza.
Caleb comes up behind me, one hand sliding around my waist, and his hand splays over my stomach, pulling me back against him.
“Not hungry?” he asks. “After that?”
I shrug, glancing away.
Why can’t I just lean into happiness? It’s right there, begging me to take it.
“What’s wrong?” His breath hits my neck, followed by his lips.
I tilt my head to the side. His other arm comes around me, dropping the ice pack on the counter, then locking around my chest. I’m thoroughly encompassed.
“You can tell me.”
“Everything,” I whisper. “Everything’s wrong. Do you ever just feel sad for no reason?”
He twists me around, cupping my jaw and tilting my head up.
I keep my gaze on his chin.
“Margo.”
I press my lips together.
“You have every reason to fall apart,” he says. “My fault—I wanted you to break. But I changed my mind.” He frowns. “You changed my mind. Because you’re still…”
I’m hanging on the edge of a knife.
“You’re still good. A bit devious.” He winks. “But at your heart?”
“Stop.” I push away from him.
He doesn’t let me go. His fingers dig into my neck, and he tugs me even closer. “You stop. Don’t run away.”
I wasn’t is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t voice it.
He releases me and grabs the box of pizza. “My head is killing me,” he announces to Riley and Eli.
They pause their conversation. Riley’s eyebrows jump up.
“Come on, Margo.” And then he just leaves. His feet pounding down the steps to the basement.
“You okay?” Riley asks.
If only people would stop asking me that. I force a smile. “Dandy.”
“Don’t let him push you around,” she says.
I scoff.
“She’s been on a roll standing up to him,” she adds, glancing at Eli.
He glowers at her.
“On that note, I’m going home.” She grabs her purse and slings it over her shoulder.
Eli jumps up. “What? Already?”
Riley smirks. “Does that bother you? I still have a curfew, even on a Saturday.”
“Fine,” he snaps. “I’ll drive.”
I watch the two of them walk out, and suddenly I’m entirely alone. It doesn’t feel good.
I hurry to the basement and stop on the third-to-last stair. Caleb suddenly appears at the bottom. At this angle, I’m just a little taller than him.
“Eli and Riley leave?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And you?”
I shake my head. “What about me?”
“Do you want to leave?” His eyes are impossibly dark.
“You should get some rest.” I take a step back.
He follows me up. “They say the opposite for a concussion,” he argues. “If I have one, which is doubtful.”
I bite my lip. “What do you remember?”
He huffs. “I’ll tell you if you’re naked.”
I hesitate.
He smirks. “Clothes, off. All of them this time.”
In our haste, we hadn’t removed our shirts. But now… I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it off, letting it fall from my fingertips behind me. My bra is next. He drags my leggings over my hips, and I hold his shoulders to step out of them. Then panties.
He hops off the step and stares at me.
“Your turn,” I mumble, trying not to let my self-consciousness overwhelm me. I haven’t had this feeling before—shaky. The last time we had good sex, in the hotel room after the ball, I trusted him.
I don’t know if I trust him now.
He captured my heart so slowly, I barely realized he was taking it. But my heart is just a fraction of the picture. And now, letting him peruse my body, I realize there’s still broken shards between us.
He wants it that way. He thinks he’s broken. The thought comes on suddenly, out of nowhere. But he’s so wrong. I will file you smooth, I vow. One sharp edge at a time.
“Strip,” I demand. “Fair is fair.”
His eyebrow jumps up. “Have we ever played fair?”
I raise my chin. “Starting now.”
He just watches me for a moment, then nods. He unbuttons his pants and lets them drop around his ankles. Then boxers. He hesitates on his shirt, but I have no such reservations. Not when it comes to him.
I walk to him and take over, pulling his shirt over his head. I drop it on the floor and run my finger down his chest. He has hard abs and faint white scars. I circle around him, tracing an invisible path with my index finger, and he stands perfectly still.
I touch a pink, raised scar. This was a welt not too long ago. A welt that was his uncle’s doing. He shudders.
