Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(73)

“So it’s already decided,” I mumble.

Lenora shrugs. “Riley, you should head to school.”

My best friend snaps to attention. “Yes, ma’am.” She gives me a quick hug, then retreats.

Lenora and I walk into the house. I go to my room and shrug off my jacket, quickly switching Caleb’s shirt for one of mine. I stuff his under my pillow.

I exchange my skirt—couldn’t exactly wear his shorts home—for comfortable pants.

Lenora closes the front door as I come back down. “Riley forgot she had this,” she says, lifting my backpack.

I manage a smile. “Thank you.”

“Couch? Soup?”

I nod and collapse on the couch, grabbing the remote. A day to do nothing but recover? I’m okay with that.

It’s early in the morning. There’s the rest of the day ahead of me.

Once Lenora is done hovering—she brings me water and soup, which is lovely—I dig into my backpack. I can’t just sit here and do nothing, as peaceful as that sounds.

I find my phone at the bottom of my bag. Reaching in, I scroll through missed calls and texts from Caleb and Riley. My attention settles on one text from my mystery texter. The timestamp shows that they sent it yesterday afternoon. My hands tremble.

I click on the text before I wimp out.

Unknown: This is the only time I help you.



* * *



Unknown: [image attached]





It’s a photo of Ian towing me across the field. Did Unknown send it to someone to help me? Caleb, maybe? He found me awfully fast…

I shudder.

There are too many people pulling strings in my life. It makes me angrier than I could expect.

Lenora’s doctor friend comes over, a portable ultrasound machine in tow, to inspect my stomach. Both women gasp when I raise my shirt. There’s a lot of probing—ow—and she finally rocks back on her heels. She fires up the ultrasound machine and squirts gel on my stomach, like they do for pregnant women.

I cringe at the idea of being pregnant.

“The ultrasound is clear,” she says. “It seems like deep bruising. Have you been nauseous? Vomited at all?”

I shake my head.

“If you do, or if the pain travels into your back, call me. If there’s blood in your urine—call me.” She raises her eyebrows. “Understand?”

I jerk my head up and down. “Got it.”

“Ice on and off. Nothing strenuous.”

“Okay.” I force a smile. “Thank you for checking on me.”

They both rise, and I lower my shirt. I lie down, covering myself with the blanket, and close my eyes. Still, I hear Lenora’s friend say, “I’d keep her activity down for at least a week. I’ll write a note for you to send into the school.”

I push myself upright. “Wait,” I blurt out. “The dance—”

“Halloween is still ten days away,” Lenora says gently. “I’m sure you’ll be recovered enough by then.” She raises her eyebrow at her friend.

The doctor smiles. “I’ll come back on Sunday and check on you.”

For the rest of the day, I drift between consciousness and sleep and try to forget Ian Fletcher.

When I wake up, it’s completely dark. The television is rolling through end credits of a movie I completely missed, and I’m impossibly groggy. I grope around for my phone, and my hand lands on… skin.

I snap my hand back. Caleb is reclined in the chair adjacent to the couch, his eyes closed.

My heart does this awful thing: it softens.

I must’ve touched his hand, dangling off the chair’s arm.

Slowly, I sit up and readjust. I smooth down my hair, ensuring my shirt is in place. And by the time I look up, Caleb’s gaze is on me.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“Not really.” The melted bag of ice slides off the couch. “Did you…?”

Caleb frowns. “Find Ian? Do anything? No. I’ve been warned not to cause many more waves at school.”

I grunt.

He leans toward me, tucking a chunk of hair behind my ear. “Lenora said you should be good to go for the dance, though.”

I manage a smile. “I hope so.”

“I know it.”

He turns on the lamp. I squint, blocking the light with my hand as he switches seats and slides in behind me. I lean on him while he inspects my throat.

“He’s not going to touch you again. Even if I need to get the whole fucking lacrosse team to keep him away from you—”

“Isn’t Ian on the team?”

Caleb rolls his eyes. “Yeah. But he’s a twat.”

Clearly.

“Where are Robert and Lenora?”

“They went out. They’ve been hovering, making sure you were still breathing. Or snoring, like you were when I came in.”

I elbow him.

“You’ll be back to school next week,” he promises. “And then the dance. And after…”

He wiggles his eyebrows.

I break into laughter. “What are you going to do, rent a hotel room?”

He grins.

My heart skips. “Did you?”

“Where’s the surprise in that?”