Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)

I raise my eyebrows.

“A king and queen.”

He can’t be serious.

“We aren’t royalty,” I sputter. “This isn’t—”

“My word is law. Eli, Theo, Liam, me… we’re it. We rose up in the school.” He chuckles. “It may not seem like it now, but come spring, everyone will be reminded.”

“Lacrosse,” I mutter.

“People like their football, but lacrosse rules around here.”

“And you rule the game.”

He cracks a smile. “Yes.”

“The school… people treat you differently in the spring?”

“We remind the students why we’re the best in the league.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “There’s a good costume shop off of Times Square.”

“What’s the errand you have to run?”

He shrugs. “Just have to sign some papers.”

“And you decided to take me along?”

“You haven’t been to the city. Besides, this type of conversation can’t be had with just myself.”

I roll my eyes. “Right.”

He glances over. “You don’t believe me.”

Not really.

“The teachers don’t ever yell at me, give me detention, call me out for being late or skipping.” He puts his hand on my thigh.

Hate to say I like it, but...

“You got suspended.”

“For fighting Ian, who’s dad is a massive dick.” He winks. “I don’t blame her for suspending me. Easier to do that than get on his bad side.”

I harrumph.

“You’ll see,” he promises.

His words from my first day of school come back to me.

Margo Wolfe. Haven’t you heard? I’m king now.

What does that make me?





27





“A fair lace mask for the pretty girl?”

I glance up at the shop owner. He’s been hovering, pointing at various costumes and accessories. None have been quite right. Although, I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for. I don’t have a dress, and Caleb, who seemed to have a plan, has disappeared.

The shop owner holds out a delicate, pale-pink mask. It’s meant to cover half the face, not both eyes.

“No,” Caleb says, coming up behind him. “I found it.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Where is it?”

“You have to wait outside.” He grins. “I think it’ll be better if it’s a surprise.”

“Seriously?”

The shop owner appraises us.

Caleb narrows his eyes at me. “Out.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “Fine. I’m going to get coffee.”

I leave the shop, contemplating circling back and trying to get a glimpse of whatever Caleb is buying. Instead, I resist the urge and cross the street. There’s a cute little coffee shop directly across from the costume shop.

Playing nice, I order myself a latte and Caleb a black coffee.

We were both obsessed with tasting coffee when we were young. It never failed to wrinkle our noses. But at the time, coffee was synonymous with caffeine. And what better to help two ten-year-olds stay up past their bedtimes than caffeine?

I shake the memory out of my head as Caleb comes into the shop. A paper bag dangles from his fingertips.

“I got you one,” I say.

“Is this bribery?”

“No.” I roll my eyes. “Not everything has a string attached.”

He shrugs. “You’d be surprised.”

We sit and drink our coffee, and I try my hardest not to even look in the direction of the bag.

He glances at his watch and straightens. “We have to go. My appointment is soon.”

“You said you had to sign papers? For what?”

He winks. “Just boring business stuff.”

“Your dad—”

“Just leave it, Margo.” He rubs his eye. “Can we go ten minutes without questions?”

He doesn’t say please, but I imagine the plea chasing his request.

“Fine,” I murmur.

I’ll just have to observe and see if I can figure out what Caleb Asher is hiding.

We take a taxi. It drops us off in front of a tall building, and Caleb winds his hand through mine. He leads me into the lobby and points to a group of armchairs in the corner.

“Sit.”

Since I promised no questions, I keep my mouth shut and take a seat.

Caleb approaches the front desk and leans toward the receptionist.

She nods, pointing to a bank of elevators to her right. He pushes through a turnstile, goes down a hallway to the elevators, and waits. When he glances back at me, I pretend I wasn’t watching.

He steps onto the elevator a second later, and I shoot to my feet.

“Hi,” I say to the receptionist. “Can you tell me where he was going?”

She raises her eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I just—”

“We can’t give out that information,” she says, lifting her chin. “Are we going to have a problem?”

I take a step back. “No.”

As I slink back toward my seat, I scan the placard of companies and the levels. Where would Caleb go to sign paperwork?

There aren’t too many names listed. Half of them take up several floors. There’s a PR firm and a real estate office that might be promising. Besides that, there’s a law firm, a plastic surgeon, and an investment firm. Oh, and insurance.

I shake my head and sit.

Caleb reappears twenty minutes later. He comes over to me and offers his arm.

“That took longer than expected,” he says.

I slip my arm through his and shrug. “It’s okay.”

“Do you want to do anything else? Or should we call it a day?”

We’d already walked around Times Square, took a selfie together under the glowing screens, and found masks. The day catches up to me, and I yawn. “Food, then home?”

He nods. We round the corner, almost smashing into a man walking toward us. He freezes, staring at Caleb. His face goes pale.

“Mr. A-Asher,” the man says.

“Tobias.” Caleb inclines his chin, staring at the man with cold eyes.

“I wasn’t aware you were in the city.”

“I wasn’t aware I had to notify you when I wanted to get away from Rose Hill for an afternoon.”

Tobias shakes his head. Once he’s started, he doesn’t stop. His whole body trembles, like a strong wind is rushing through him.

My curiosity is officially piqued.

Caleb glances down at me, and Tobias follows his eyes. He flinches when he registers me.

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