Wicked Games (Fallen Royals Book 2)

Winter has arrived early, it seems. Not in snowfall—luckily what little we had melted over the weekend—but in windchill. The temperature has dropped into the teens, and the ground is frozen solid.

Lenora puts a hat on my head, patting my cheeks and smiling faintly. She opens her mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it.

Robert drives me today. Riley texted early—way too early—to say that her dad was giving her a ride, too. She didn’t trust herself on the potential black ice. Robert gets to go straight to his classroom, while the students have been shuffled from the courtyard to the cafeteria before school starts. He drops me off there and waves goodbye with a wide smile.

Someone’s feeling cheeky.

In the back, toward the windows, are the popular kids. Amelie is absent, but Savannah is there with her cheerleaders, leaning against one of the football player’s arms. She’s got a circle of girls and guys around her, acting like… like someone put a crown back on her head.

I search the room for a friendly face, but Riley hasn’t arrived. And Caleb hasn’t either. Not that I would call Caleb friendly, but whatever.

I’m still hunting for either of them by the time the bell rings.

Caleb doesn’t show up for first period.

Between second and third I find Riley. She almost doesn’t see me, walking by with her head down, so I grab her and tow her into the nearest stairwell.

“Hey! I missed you in the courtyard.”

Riley winces. “Yeah, Dad was running late. He had to sign me in at the office. Eli is back, did you see?”

I did notice that, although I hadn’t registered that as weird or noteworthy. “Savannah is acting like she did at the beginning of the year.”

My best friend sighs. “I heard that Amelie is finishing the semester in France.”

“It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” I laugh. “Wonder if I can join her?”

She snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“Have you seen Caleb? Or heard anything?”

She hesitates. “No.”

She says it like a lie.

I stare at her for a minute, but I don’t have time to question her. The bell is going to ring any moment, the only warning being the sudden emptying of the hallway.

“Okay… let me know if you do.”

“I’ll see you at lunch,” she says, rushing away.

I hurry to my next class and keep my head down. I still expect Caleb to magically appear in the hallway, dodging students and sauntering up to me. I crane my neck, trying to see past taller students, but he’s nowhere to be found.

And it’s daunting.

Right before lunch, I spot Theo. I skid to a halt right in front of him.

“Little wolf,” he greets me. His tone is always so even. Undaunting. He only lost it once—at that football game we went to at Lion’s Head. But otherwise, he’s stoic. His mask is impregnable.

“Where’s Caleb?” I ask.

A muscle in his jaw jumps.

“Come on, Theo. Don’t make me beg.”

His eyes darken, and I involuntarily take a step back.

“Don’t mistake our moment in the woods for kindness,” he says. “And as for Caleb, it’s none of your business. He’s taking a sick day.”

“A sick day,” I repeat.

When has Caleb ever been sick? As a kid—never. Since then, I don’t know. Something feels off about this. Something wrong. But why does everyone seem to know except for me?

Theo brushes past me. “Leave it alone, Margo.”

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s not leaving something alone.

Riley waits for me outside the library, her foot tapping. “Eli invited us to sit with them,” she says. “Caleb isn’t here, so I figured⁠—”

“That’s fine.” I speed past her. The encounter with Theo has me thinking… and plotting. This just solves the issue of getting in front of the rest of his friends individually. “What’d you bring?”

“Figured I’d get hot lunch today.” Her cheeks flush red.

“Look at you, Riley Appleton.” I elbow her. “Turning into one of them. Does that have anything to do with Eli Black?”

“He might’ve offered to buy it. And who am I to mock hot lunch, when it means I don’t have to eat another tuna fish sandwich made with ‘love’ from my dad?”

“Fair enough.”

She’s been griping about tuna for weeks. It’s about time she’s done something about it.

We go to the hockey table. Liam shuffles to the side and pats the seat next to him.

I sit, emptying my bagged lunch, while Riley slides in across from me. Eli already got their lunches, and the table fills in around us. Ignoring Theo’s pursed expression, I turn to Liam. “Where’s Caleb today?”

Liam coughs. “Um, sick.”

“With what?”

“Huh?”

“A cold, the flu, pneumonia…?” I tap my chin. “There are just so many things, some more serious than others.”

“Drop it, Margo,” Theo snaps.

I raise my eyebrow. “Eli?”

He lifts his head.

“Why’s Caleb out with a mysterious sickness?”

Riley groans. “This is why you didn’t even hesitate⁠—”

“You live with him, for God’s sake,” I continue.

It shouldn’t bother me this much, but it’s just another mystery that I don’t want to deal with. I need answers.

He said he’d see me today.

When?

Why isn’t he here?

When did I become a junkie? Addicted to Caleb—no better than my mother and her drugs—completely disregarding how bad he is for me.

It takes his lack of attention for me to realize it.

I’m such an idiot. My heart is winning the argument.

“I’m not sure he’d want me to tell you,” Eli says. “And that’s all you’re getting out of me while he’s laid up in bed⁠—”

“His bed, I hope, and not a hospital?” I give Eli my best worried face.

“He wouldn’t go to a hos⁠—”

Theo punches Eli’s shoulder. “You idiot.”

I stand, smiling tightly. Mission accomplished. “Thanks, Eli. I’m glad someone is helpful.”

And then… well, I don’t really have a plan. I walk out of the cafeteria and keep going, straight outside. I don’t have a car, but that can’t stop me. I’ll walk there if I have to. Come up with an excuse for Robert later⁠—

“Wait,” Riley calls, jogging up behind me.

I look at her.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” she asks.

“Didn’t your dad drive you?”

“Yeah, but⁠—”

“So, you don’t have a car.”

She rolls her eyes and holds up a set of keys. “I happen to know someone who does. And that person might not have realized I stole them out of his bag, so we should probably hurry.”

Oh, shit. Okay.

We run across the lot to Eli’s truck, and it feels a bit like we’re breaking the law. We stay hunched as Riley fires it up and backs out of the spot, then guns it out of the parking lot.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” We’re not even there yet.

My hands shake.

“Margo,” she says. “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“Oh, um, no. Can you just tell Robert that I had an emergency? Not a serious one. Like, I got my period and bled through my skirt or something.”

She exhales. “Yeah, sure. He’ll see through it, but…”

“Maybe I’ll be back sooner than expected.” I’ve got about an hour before I would need to be in Robert’s painting class. “I could call a taxi or bike.”

Her expression pinches, but she pulls into Eli’s driveway without a word. Caleb’s driveway. I have to remind myself that he lives here—it’s his home, too. Even if his real house is a few blocks away, filled with ghosts and dust.

She hits the button for the garage door. “You can get in that way. They usually leave the inner door unlocked. Good luck… I hope he’s okay.”

I grin at her to hide my sudden panic. I have a sick feeling in my gut that something is terribly wrong, and his friends’ answers didn’t set me at ease. I wouldn’t be here if I could just ignore it and focus on schoolwork. But no, Caleb’s stuck at the front of my mind like superglue.

More like crazy glue.

I jump out of the truck and shake out my arms. Riley waits until I open the door, then triggers the garage door to close behind me.

I walk through a large mudroom, then the kitchen. It’s silent up here, and I kick off my shoes to move quietly through the house.

I get to the top of the basement stairs. There’s a light on at the bottom, but everything else is in shadow. Television noises float up. I swallow, then take a deep breath.

Courage, Margo.

I descend.

He’s on the bed. I can make out his shape in the dimly lit room, but he doesn’t react to my appearance. I steel myself and creep closer and closer. Blueish light from the TV is the only source of illumination, and it flickers constantly with a movie’s action sequence.

My heart pounds against my ribs. I inch closer, until he’s more than just a blob of shadow. He’s on his stomach, his head turned away. Sleeping? He’s not wearing a shirt, but it’s hard to make out details in this light.

What happened to you?

I’m afraid to touch him, but I do it anyway. I put my hand on his shoulder, as gently as I can.

He reacts like I hoped he wouldn’t.

He comes alive, twisting and grabbing my arm. He hauls me over him and pins me to the mattress between him and the wall. He grips my wrists with an iron hold.

“Caleb.”

His eyes are open but unseeing, and his whole body is tense. Tremors run through him. He doesn’t see me, just whatever nightmare he’s trapped in.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. I rise and put my forehead to his. “Come back to me.”

He said those same words to me. Come back. Earth to Margo.

Now it’s him who needs to be pulled away from his nightmares.

I don’t mind the harshness of his grip. I don’t mind any of it. I breathe and wait, keeping my forehead to his.

“It’s okay,” I repeat. “It’s just me.”

Slowly, he crawls out of the darkness. He blinks rapidly, gaze moving from my lips to my nose to my eyes. “Margo. What are you doing here?”

I manage to smile. “I came to check on you.”

He leans away, wincing. His hands slide off my wrists.

I stay where I am. Part of me is still in shock. That whole ordeal took a minute at most, but it feels like we were in that position for a lifetime.

“You’re hurt.”

He forces himself up, but he hobbles. His hand presses to his side, and he limps to the television. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?”

He turns it off, and the room goes dark. I sense him moving past me, and the light in the bathroom comes on. He’s already in it, the door swinging shut. Not all the way—a crack allows a slice of light to cross the basement.

I scramble out of bed. “Why shouldn’t I be here, Caleb?”

“I wanted the Bryans to kick you out,” he calls through the door.

I flinch, but he’s not done.

“I wanted your life to be ruined. To make you fall in love just to squash it—your heart—like you did to me.”

I don’t believe it. For once, I can hear the liar in him. Every word that falls from his mouth is a goddamn lie. And enough is enough.

“You’re mad that you want me.” I shove the bathroom door open and stop dead.

Shirtless, yes.

Horribly, horribly bruised.

“Were you in a car accident?” I gasp.

He watches me, immobile, until I step forward. Only then does he step back. I keep coming, and he keeps retreating until he hits the counter. I don’t stop until I’m right between his legs.

The need to catalog every injury swells in me.

A pair of black eyes. A bandage over his nose. Split lip, swollen jaw. There are bruises around his throat and across his chest, but most is centered on his ribs and stomach. Fist-shaped bruises. Shapes that I can’t comprehend.

While I was having a sleepover, he was…

“It wasn’t a car accident, was it,” I guess.

Oh God.

My hands flutter over him without touching. I pause over his heart and lower my palm. His heart is steady, while my pulse is out of control. One hand stays on his chest, and I let my other continue up. Over his throat, which bobs, to his jaw. I sweep my thumb across his lower lip. The cut has scabbed over, but that doesn’t make it any better.

His eyes are dark blue, standing out even more against the purple-black bruises.

“You’re mad that I see you,” I whisper. “All of you. And I’m not backing down. I’m here because you can’t get rid of me, even if you threaten me.”

I’m in.

Two words and a mountain worth of clarity.

It’s always been Caleb. It’ll always be Caleb.

He hasn’t moved, and his words from his car come back to me. He handed me control, and I still have it. His hands rest on the counter, supporting some of his weight. His eyes are on my face.

It’s my decision.

“Touch me,” I demand, then hesitate. “Unless you’re in too much pain.”

If anything, his eyes get darker. I suppress a shiver. His finger edges under the waistband of my uniform skirt, untucking my shirt. He slowly unbuttons it and tugs it wide open. And then he just… looks at me.

“Caleb.”

He sighs. “You know what’s fucked up?”

I raise my eyebrow.

“I don’t want you to get hurt anymore—or get caught up in my mess.”

“What happened?”

He shifts slightly, but it’s enough to allow me a glance at his back in the mirror.

Oh no.

There are long welts crisscrossing his wide shoulder blades. The skin around each is angry red, and I can’t imagine how painful it is.

No wonder he was sleeping on his stomach.

“Who did this?” I ask, keeping my voice level. I’ve never quite experienced the rage that I sometimes see on Caleb’s face, but it’s coming at me now, faster than a hurricane. My hands shake.

He lifts them, kissing my fingers. “You caring means a lot.”

“Was it your dad?”

I can’t stop thinking about the dream—the argument between my mom and his dad. The glass she threw. They had a temper, I’ve figured that much. Both of our parents.

“Margo…”

“Just tell me.” I gnash my teeth. “I’m so sick of the bullsh⁠—”

“My uncle,” he blurts out. “Okay? Happy? He wasn’t thrilled at my behavior recently and decided he needed to teach me a lesson. Something that wouldn’t affect my game.” He laughs, but it grates against my ears. “I’m pretty sure he cracked a fucking rib and briefly dislocated my knee, but that shouldn’t stop me.”

My eyes fill with tears. “I’m not happy.”

“Don’t cry for me, baby.” He brushes his thumbs under my eyes. “I don’t deserve those tears.”

“I’m not crying.” I’m absolutely lying, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

His uncle did that to him—his uncle beat him. While I had a sleepover with Riley? While I complained about him going silent on me?

“Is that where you were this weekend? At his house⁠—”

His hands go to my throat, then the back of my neck. He pulls me into his chest, injuries or no, and I press my lips together. His chest is hot under my cheek. I close my eyes, because this is what I wanted. This is what I asked for.

Touch me.

When his lips ghost along my neck, I shudder.

“You are crying,” he whispers. He hugs me.

Caleb Asher is hugging me. He wraps around me like an octopus, infusing heat into my suddenly cold body. It’s a little surreal—like the devil has shed a few layers, and he’s not actually that bad. I’ve discovered a bigger monster—his uncle.

I’m dying to hug him back but afraid of hurting him. My hands twitch at my sides. Just when I think he might kiss me—he’s got that look—he takes a step back.

“Can you wrap the…”

The welts.

I nod, and he tosses me a roll of bandages.

“Okay. Yeah, I can do this.”

He snorts. “Good, because you’re all I have.”

My heart stops.

He didn’t mean it like that, but my heart will not be convinced otherwise.

After some trial and error, I finally ask him to hold the starting point under his arm. I manage to set the gauze and wrap a long rope of bandages around his chest with his help, then clip it to stay.

“You should go home.” He turns on the lamp next to his bed and slowly lowers himself onto the bed. He sits on the edge, pressing his palm to his ribs.

“What? Why?”

“You don’t think I noticed you came here in the middle of the day?” He picks up his phone, taps out a message, then tosses it back down. “It’s cute. You skipped school. But what would Robert say if you’re not home when he gets back?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” I sit beside him. “Can’t I just stay here?”

“I’m just imagining the wrath of your foster family.” He shrugs. “On second thought, maybe you should stay.”

“Now you’re just being an ass.”

“I already called you a car.”

“This is what I get for trying to be nice.”

“After you were so cruel?” He bumps my arm with his elbow. “Hot and cold, little wolf.”

My cheeks heat.

“Fine.” I can take his dismissal, especially masked as concern. “Is the car here?”

“Probably.”

I stand and tuck my phone into my pocket.

“Hey, Margo?”

I turn back to him, quirking my lips.

“Might want to button your shirt.”

My whole body catches on fire. Caleb’s laughter chases me up the stairs. I close my shirt and tuck it back into my skirt.

Nothing even happened.

I mean, I just discovered Caleb’s uncle is probably a sadist, and I’m way more head over heels for Caleb than I thought.

We can call that nothing, right?