Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(58)

“Are you asking because you’re concerned?”

He slides his hand through my hair. “I’ve decided that the only person who can be cruel to you is me.”

“It’s better,” I manage.

I am absolutely livid that he can be callous and turn me on at the same time. My body reacts to him like a tightly wound wire. One touch and I come alive.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he says, releasing me. “And maybe you’ll answer my questions.”

“What’s tonight?” I follow him up the stairs, toward my next class. “Caleb.”

He winks. “You don’t want to tell me where you went? Two can play that game, love.”

I suffer the anticipation through the last two classes—including the art class, with Caleb sitting stiller than a statue beside me. Getting answers from him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. Pointless and impossible.

He goes up to Robert near the end of class, whispering something.

Robert nods slowly. “I suppose. I’ll need to speak with my wife.”

Caleb returns to his seat. He smirks at me.

“What was that about?” I whisper.

“Nothing to worry about,” he says. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

The bell cuts off any further interrogation. Caleb slides off his stool and strides out the door, leaving me behind. No backward glance, no hovering like the last few days. He’s just… poof. Gone.

Robert clears his throat. “Ready?”

“What did Caleb ask you?”

He shakes his head. “Just had a personal question.”

He’s not going to tell me. I try not to let that sting too much.

Once we’re home, I retreat to my room. My phone has been unusually silent. No Caleb, no Riley… no Unknown.

I do have a text from Claire, though.

Claire: So great to see you, Margo!! Really missed you. Hanna sends a kissy face. Want to meet up next weekend??





I grin at my phone.

Me: I’ll double-check, but it should be fine! Yay!





I set my phone down to change out of my uniform. It chimes again, and I grab it, already smiling. The smile slides off my face when I see who this new text is from.

Unknown: Do you ever get tired of being fake?





My good mood plummets like a stone in the ocean. Down, down, down.

Unknown: How does it feel to lose your virginity to a monster?





I choke on my gasp. How do they know?

I certainly didn’t tell anyone…

Which means Caleb did.





24





Lenora knocks on my door. “Hey, honey. We’re going out. Will you be okay on your own?”

I sit up and look at her. I’ve been struggling through homework for the last hour. Math used to be my favorite subject, but I haven’t been able to concentrate this semester.

Too many other things pulling my attention, I guess.

“Where are you going?”

She grins. “Robert got a reservation to a nice restaurant. He surprised me, and since it’s a Friday…”

I mirror her smile. “That’s awesome! Date night?”

“Exactly. And as of tomorrow, we’re lifting your grounding.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’ve been good, and we didn’t want to make this a drawn-out thing. Besides, it’s your senior year. You should be able to have fun with your friends.”

“Thank you.”

She ventures deeper into my room and sits beside me. “We need to talk tomorrow. Robert and I wanted to check in with you after Angela’s visit, but things just got a little crazy…”

“It’s okay.” I fiddle with the blanket on my lap.

Between Lenora working late and my inability to do anything except for homework, I’ve had a few movie nights with Robert and a few nights of crashing early. In reality, I’ve barely seen Lenora this week.

“We’ll do a brunch tomorrow. I found a new French toast recipe that I’ve been eager to try. Will you help me?”

I grin. “I love French toast.”

“It’s a date.”

Robert calls Lenora’s name from downstairs, and she pats my wrist.

“I’m being summoned,” she says. “Have a nice quiet evening.”

“See you tomorrow.”

She tentatively leans forward, wrapping her arms around me. “Is this okay?” she whispers.

“Yeah.” I hug her back, resting my chin on her shoulder.

It feels… nice.

She releases me when I drop my arms, and then they’re gone. I listen for the front door to close, then shove my homework off my bed. I flop backward and close my eyes.

My mother flashes in front of my closed eyelids.

“What did you do, Margo?” she asks. She looms giant in my memory, gripping my shoulders.

I don’t answer, and she shakes me back and forth.

“Mom,” I cry.

“Margo.”

I thrash, trying to break her bruising grip.

“Margo!”

“Stop,” I moan.

“Wake up!”