Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)

Apparently, I’m not the only one Ian’s pissed off.

“No faces,” I tell him. I stand back and let Theo get his anger out. After all, the principal only told me not to hit him.

Theo readjusts, but as soon as Ian coughs up blood, I stride forward and grab Theo’s arm.

Liam and Eli release Ian, letting him fall to the ground.

“How does that feel?” I ask, crouching next to him. “Kind of like a kick in the stomach?”

He glares up at me.

I wrap my hand around his throat, pinning him flat to the ground. I see red at the idea of Margo in this position, him hovering over her.

I squeeze until Ian grabs at my wrists. He can’t pry me loose.

He grins. His teeth are tinted red.

“Caleb,” Eli warns.

“You don’t touch her,” I say to Ian. “You don’t look at her. You don’t—”

“This isn’t really about her,” he wheezes. “She’s just your soft spot, Asher.”

I dig my fingers into his neck.

I’m not myself.

His face turns red, and I still don’t let go.

I can’t, when he’s staring at me with a fucking challenge in his eyes.

He’ll have bruises around his neck… much worse than Margo’s, I’d reckon.

His eyes flutter shut. Theo and Eli grab my arms, pulling me away from him.

I struggle for a second.

“Any more and you’ll kill him,” Liam admonishes, shoving me away. He kneels next to Ian, who’s passed out.

Theo drags me to the door, shoving me against it. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

I shake my head. “I know.”

“You lost it.”

“I know.”

He grunts. “Go. We’ll take care of the rest of this.”

I roll my eyes. “You lost it, too.”

“Nah, he had it coming.”

I shake my head. Yeah, Ian has a lot coming. Had. With lacrosse looming, we need to figure our shit out sooner rather than later. A broken team won’t bring championships.

I go to my car and slide in. Skipping isn’t something that I push often, but no one ever says anything. A few other students indulge in the same luxuries. Theo could mail in his final and still get straight A’s.

Lenora is at work, and Robert is at school, which means Margo is alone.

My phone rings halfway to her house. One glance at the caller ID, and I frown.

“Yes?”

“What a lovely greeting, nephew. Are you not in school?”

I shake my head. “Had to run an errand.”

My uncle is silent. “We heard about your old friend’s unfortunate incident.”

Now I’m quiet. How the hell did my uncle hear about Margo? I’ve taken care not to mention her.

He chuckles. “Relax. We’re not doing anything… yet.”

“Aunt called Amberly, didn’t she?” It all snaps together. Loose pieces that suddenly make sense. “Which means she didn’t leave town.”

“I really don’t appreciate you threatening people, Caleb. I thought you learned to be better than that.”

To maneuver better.

Yes, I thought I had, too.

Margo has me all twisted around.

“What can I do for you, Uncle?”

“Stop by the house after your… errand. And keep it between us.”

“Got it.” I hang up on him. He’s not the most sociable person. I’m surprised he didn’t hang up on me first.

I sit in the driveway for a second, then get out and walk into Margo’s house.

It’s interesting how the Jenkinses have made her feel so at home, but she’s unwilling to call it that. She’s gotten used to moving around so much, she seems to have forgot what stability looks like.

Maybe she never had it to begin with.

She’s asleep on the couch, curled on her side. I close the door quietly and kick off my shoes, then go and kneel next to her.

There’s a furrow in her brow. Her lips are pinched.

Even though she’s sleeping—I can tell she isn’t having a good dream.

I smooth back her hair and smile as she exhales.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I tell her.

I don’t know if I’m telling the truth or not.

My feelings are all mixed up.

When I look at her, I see… her. But I see our past, too. Every fucking moment reminds me of the day she ruined our lives. One confession.

I begged her not to, but she did it anyway.

She whimpers in her sleep.

I loosen my grip in her dark hair, smoothing it out again. I should go, but I can’t stop touching her.

She blinks and focuses on my face. The smile that spreads across her lips rips my heart out. Even so, tears spill down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” I swipe the tears away, but they keep falling.

I almost tell her that Ian’s been taken care of, but I don’t want her to stress about it. As he said: it was never about her. It was me.

“How did you know to search for me?” she asks.

“Someone sent me a text.”

“A picture,” she says.

I meet her gaze again. “Yes.”

“Who?”

I shake my head. “Don’t, Margo.”

“Who texted you, Caleb?” She reaches out and grabs my wrists.

“A blocked number,” I finally say. It’s not the truth, per se. I only have an idea of who sent it. Why they’d block their number to send it to me… It makes sense.

There are traitors at Emery-Rose.

Her face falls. She collects herself in record time, pushing up onto her elbow. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

I grunt. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

She pats the space next to her, but I shake my head. I stand and pick her up—her and the blankets draped over her. I sit, keeping her on my lap. She runs her hand over my chest, tucking her face into my neck.

I kiss the top of her head.

It’s sappy. I feel impossibly guilty, even as my abs tighten and my dick hardens in my pants.

Margo and I aren’t destined for a happy ending, even if we both want to pretend otherwise. Our destiny is to crash and burn.





31





Wednesday afternoon is my first outing.

It’s been a week of nothing but staying home, trying not to move. Riley and Caleb visit, but they have other obligations. School, for one. I’ve been doing my due diligence on the homework, keeping up with my classmates even while I’m away. It staves off some of the boredom.

Now, I’m free.

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