Wicked Games (Fallen Royals Book 2)

Lenora smiles at me, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “You forgive him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know when it happened, but yeah. I think so.”

“He looks at you how I always hoped someone would look at Isabella. But he hasn’t always treated you well, has he?”

I sigh. “Our relationship is complicated. But I’m done letting him try to walk all over me.”

“Robert and I just want to be a good example for you,” she confesses. Her hand lands on my shoulder. “Of what a healthy, solid marriage is. We love each other, but we also respect each other.”

“You are setting a good example.” I force a smile.

Caleb only just left, but loneliness stretches out in front of me. Being dependent on him isn’t what I had in mind when I told him I wasn’t going anywhere.

Sometimes I think my feelings are too big to fit inside me.

She touches my cheek. “You should go to bed, honey. Get some rest.”

It’s easy to feel like an intruder in a foster home. There are kids who came before me and after me, and each one leaves their mark. In a way, it’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one. That I won’t be the only one.

But here, there’s no echo of past children. There was only one foster child before me, and they aged out. Lenora and Robert never talk about them.

And Isabella isn’t here anymore either. If this was her room, there’s no sign of it. No holes in the walls from pinned-up posters, or spots of pulled paint from tape. No forgotten long strands of hair that don’t match mine, or, this used to be her bed.

It was a true fresh start.

That should help me sleep, but it doesn’t come easily. I toss and turn all night, wondering about the marks on Caleb’s skin. The exact force used to cause them, but also the expression on his uncle’s face as he enacted that violence.

When I do sleep, I have insane dreams.

My mom, half erased by time, stands at the foot of my bed. She eyes me with suspicion.

My dad in an orange jumpsuit, frowning at me.

I can’t move. I’m trapped in the bed, unable to push away the blankets that are more like restraints.

Caleb’s dad. He walks up to me and ruffles my hair. Crouches until we’re eye level.

“Leave my son alone,” he says, and it echoes.

Leave my son alone.

My son alone.

Son alone.

Alone.

My fingers sting. I lift them, examine them in the dim light. My nails are torn, and blood drips down my hands. A drop lands on my cheek, and I unfreeze.

I fall through the floor, into an office.

The social worker sits across from me, behind a desk. “You can’t see him. He was arrested.”

“B-but why?” I sob.

“He did something bad and now he’s paying for it.”

I don’t ask what he did. I don’t care. I just want my dad.

“Margo?”

I glance up.

“A new family is going to take you. We’re going there now.”

We dissolve into smoke.

A distant beeping sound drags me up. Up, up, out of the dream world and back into reality.

My eyes open, and I lie there for a second. I try to catch my breath. My heart races, my pulse thundering through my body. Whether it was a dream or broken memories, it’s given me an idea. My dad holds the key. He’s the only one who might talk to me, give me answers.

What he did and what I did… they must be related.

I grab my phone, texting Riley to come early, and then shuffle into the shower. The dream slips away, as they usually do, but I can’t forget the sound of my own sobbing because they refused to let me see him.

That holds its own sort of trauma, doesn’t it? Being taken out of my family, away from everything I knew, is one thing. But then never getting to see my father, who I loved with my whole heart, and being told he had done terrible things…

How would I ever trust again?

I’m still getting dressed when Riley knocks on my door and steps inside.

“What’s the nine-one-one?”

I make sure the door is shut, then blurt out, “I had a weird dream.”

She rolls her eyes. “This seems to be a trend.”

“No—I think it was more than that. I was a kid sitting in my social worker’s office, and she wouldn’t let me see my dad. She wouldn’t even tell me what he did.”

She cocks her head. “I thought you said it was something drug related.”

I nod. “Yeah. I thought the news said as much, but I also remember seeing Lydia at a later point, and she mentioned it, too. But why wouldn’t the social worker just say that?”

“And Lydia is⁠—?”

“Caleb’s mom.”

“I smell something fishy going on.” She sits on my bed, pulling out her phone. After a few minutes of frantic typing and scrolling, she exhales. “He’s been in prison since you were ten?”

“Yeah.” I gnaw on my lower lip. It has me unsettled this morning.

“That’s seven years,” she mutters. “Was it a felony charge?”

I stare at her.

“I’m just searching general sentencing,” she explains. “It’s confusing without knowing what he was charged with. But unless he was found with a lot of drugs…”

“He was arrested in a park,” I say. “He was with me.”

“What about his lawyer?”

My eyes widen. “Oh fuck.”

How the hell could I have forgotten?

“What?” She drops her phone and stares at me. “Margo?”

“You remember when we went to the city? Me and Caleb?”

“Yeah…”

My legs give out. My knees hit my rug, and Riley reaches out. Her hand on my shoulder steadies me. I grip her wrist and take a breath.

“We ran into a man—he was petrified to see Caleb… and then me. Caleb said he was my dad’s lawyer. I can’t believe I forgot.”

“What the fuck,” she whispers. “You’re in the middle of a freaking conspiracy here. This lawyer recognized both of you?”

“Yeah.”

“Margo.” She eyes me. “You were both ten—and had maybe turned eleven—for the duration of the trial. And he immediately recognized Caleb?”

Shit, when she says it like that…

“What was his name?”

“Tobias. I don’t know his last name.” I cover my face. “What is going on?”

“I could probably find from the media coverage on your dad’s trial…. Or not.” She flashes me her screen, and what she had typed into the search bar: Keith Wolfe trial.

No search results.

“How is that possible?”

“I’ve heard that results can be removed from search engines. That would take a lot of time… or deep pockets. Maybe your social worker would know? Or Caleb?”

Ha. Caleb has turned over a new leaf in terms of opening up, but I’m still not one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t lie. He lies so easily. Telling my foster parents that his injuries came from a car crash, for one.

“There’s got to be another way. I’ll get on one of the school computers at lunch and see if I can dig deeper.” I slide on my shoes. “In the meantime, we just need to act normal.”

“Right. Normal.”

“Oh, and my mom is apparently in town.”

Her jaw drops.

“She doesn’t want to see me,” I add.

“What?”

One thing about being a foster amidst ‘normal’ kids—they take for granted having parents. Maybe that isn’t quite true—Eli’s parents are always traveling, Riley’s seems to have an interesting and unusual dynamic, and Caleb’s family is insane. But a mom who rejects you outright? Goes so far as to give up parental rights?

It leaves a scar.

“She hates me,” I tell her. “So… she’s here for some other reason. Caleb told me last night, but he wouldn’t elaborate. Or he didn’t know.”

“Wow.” Riley wisely doesn’t say anything else about it until we’re in her car, armed with buttered toast from Robert. “I just can’t imagine.”

“Your parents are nice.” I take a bite of toast. “It’s easy for the alternative to be hard to swallow.”

“Okay, so let’s just make sure I have this right. Something weird happened in your past that you can’t remember and no one will talk about. Your mom’s back in town. We need to find your dad’s lawyer. Caleb and you are back together⁠—”

“Ish,” I cut in.

“Back together-ish,” Riley amends. “Whatever that means. You forgave him.”

“Something like that.”

“And what about your dad? Are you going to visit him?”

I flinch. “I don’t know. Why would I?”

“Because from how your face gets weird when you talk about him—and I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually mentioned him—it sounds like you still…” She shrugs, pulling into the school’s parking lot. “Like, I don’t know. He was the good parent, wasn’t he?”

“Forcibly taken away instead of choosing to leave me?” My mouth dries. “I guess. Except he chose to deal drugs. Or take drugs and get caught. However it happened. So, yeah. Even if it doesn’t appear like he decided to leave, he did.”

I can’t think about this now.

“If the drug charge is true,” Riley mutters.

“I’m going to the computer lab at lunch.”

“What are we going to do about Savannah?” she asks. We get out of her car and head toward school. “I mean, she’s basically in charge again since Amelie went back to France. And that probably means she’s going to make a play for Caleb.”

I whirl toward her. “What?”

Riley snorts. “You didn’t see that coming? She wants everything Amelie had, which includes Caleb.”

“Ah, fuck.”

She elbows me. “But you and Caleb are back together-ish.”

We walk into the cafeteria and stop dead. Savannah is sitting as close as humanly possible next to Caleb. To his credit, he seems unamused. His black eyes look terrible under the harsh fluorescent lighting, but he’s still devastatingly handsome.

His attention lands on me.

“Why isn’t he moving away from her?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for her to make a fool of herself.” She snickers. “Or for you to do something about it.”

I glance at Riley. “Unknown finally made a reappearance. Seemed under the impression that Caleb and I were done for.”

“And last Savannah knew, you and Caleb were on the outs…”

Right.

I mean, I think rumors flew as soon as his coach practically dragged both of us into his office. I encountered him after that, but we only went to Robert’s classroom. The art kids don’t gossip much with the rest of the school, so that wouldn’t have mattered.

Well. We didn’t even sit together in that class, and then I went home instead of to his place.

Easy to misconstrue as on the outs.

Savannah stands, raising her arms above her head. Her uniform shirt stretches across her breasts. She’s knotted it just above her belly button. Apparently Emery-Rose’s dress code is slacking. Her skirt also seems to be about two sizes too small. It barely hides her underwear.

One of her manicured hands reaches out, grazing Caleb’s face. He shakes his head and leans away from her, but it’s too late.

I see red.

“I’m going to do something stupid,” I warn Riley.

She only has time to raise her eyebrow, and then I’m off. I weave through the tables, stomping right up to Caleb. I’ll have none of that bullshit with Savannah, Amelie, anyone.

“Hey.” I catch Savannah’s attention. Caleb’s gaze hasn’t left me, but I surprise her.

“Margo!” She puts her hand on Caleb’s arm. “We were just⁠—”

“Back off.” I grab her by her wrist and fling it away.

“Excuse—”

“Yeah, excuse you,” I snap.

I’m boiling over. She touched him like—like⁠—

I’m about two seconds away from punching her in the face.

“Easy, little wolf.” Caleb snags me around my waist and pulls me between his legs. His fingers stroke up and down my thigh casually, but it doesn’t help ease the fire burning in me.

Savannah stares at us like we’ve grown three heads.

“He’s mine,” I reiterate.

I look her up and down slowly. All she did was want to replace Amelie. It shouldn’t have surprised me that she took over Amelie’s underhanded bitchiness, too.

Once a mean girl, always a mean girl.

Caleb kisses my temple. His lips twitch, and I’d bet he’s barely hanging on to his passive expression. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. He probably let Sav stay just close enough to get a rise out of me.

My ex-friend glares at me, but she seems to get the hint when Caleb’s other hand winds around me. His arm fits snugly just under my breasts, locking me against his chest.

She slowly backs away, into her group of cheer friends. They’re all staring at Caleb and me, but I don’t give a fuck.

His fingers are inching higher along my bare skin, touching the hem of my skirt and moving back down.

I scowl over my shoulder. “What was that?”

He grins. “I like seeing your possessive side.”

“If she so much as touches you⁠—”

“No one will.” He grips my chin when I try to look away. “Hear this, Margo. I don’t take your promise lightly. Our game is between you and me.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” I whisper.

Something flashes across his face, but I don’t recognize the emotion. “That was then. And while you were always mine…”

Yeah, I didn’t want anything to do with his crazy ass. But now I do.

God help us.

He kisses my lips, then releases me. “Tell whoever your ride home is that I’m stealing you away after school.”

I nod, unable to speak. Part of me still hates him, and I don’t know how to grapple with the loathing that rises like bile in my throat. It comes out of nowhere.

I step away from him and clear my throat. “I’ll see you later.”

The rest of the day, I have the inexplicable urge to avoid him. Except, he’s everywhere. Leaning over my chair in first period, his lips on my shoulder. Watching me move down the hall with Riley after second period, then third. Haunting my locker before fourth.

And I know, I just know, he’ll be waiting for me before lunch. I duck out of the class five minutes early, claiming to have cramps—it shuts up the teacher nicely—and hide in the bathroom outside the computer lab until the bell rings.

I wait until it’s silent, then tiptoe out. For a split second, I’m shocked that Caleb isn’t leaning against the door, my plan foiled.

Nope. Empty hallway.

I open the door and slip inside, scurrying to the back row of computers. Time flies by as I turn on a computer and begin my search. I pull out my lunch, giving it a fraction of my attention.

I’m lost in the interwebs when the computer lab door opens, and I instinctively duck down.

“It’s just me,” Riley says, laughing. She closes the door behind her and drops into the chair next to me. “Why are you in here with the lights off?”

“I figured Caleb would come searching for me,” I murmur. “Keep your voice down.”

I picked the last row strategically. Even if Caleb were to pop in here—which he wouldn’t—we’re out of sight of the window. I’m not taking any chances.

“Did you find anything?”

I shake my head. “There are fourteen attorneys named Tobias who practice in New York City. I’m going through the law firm websites right now, trying to find their pictures.”

Riley turns to the computer next to me. “Give me half, we can work through it until we have to go to class.”

I grin, pushing the paper between us. “You start at the bottom?”

“Deal.”

We work in silence. She has me glance at pictures when she finds them. By the time we get through the list, there are two who don’t have headshots online.

I stare at the two highlighted names. Tobias Hutchins and Tobias E. Rodrigues.

“What now?” Riley whispers.

A shadow falls across the narrow vertical window on the door, and we both duck behind our screens. It disappears after a second. While there’s no proof it’s Caleb, I’d put money on it.

“He’s kind of a stalker.” Riley laughs.

“If that was even him.” I know it was, though. After this morning, he probably assumed I would hide. Luckily for me, I still have tricks up my sleeve. Including hiding in places he’d never think to check.

Riley groans. “Did you eat, at least?”

“Yeah, I ate with one hand and Googled with the other. You?”

“Yep, I sat with Eli for a bit.”

Well, that’s a lie. There’s no way she’d be able to get into the academic wing once she went to the cafeteria. Not until the bell rang. But her cheeks are flushed, and I’m not in the habit of exposing my best friend’s secrets.

Even if it kills me.

We gather our things slowly. The bell is going to ring any moment.

I grab Riley’s arm. “I need to get to New York City. It would be better to confront this lawyer face-to-face, don’t you think?”

“Right.” She swallows. “I’m guessing you don’t want Caleb to find out?”

“Something like that.”

She chuckles. “Okay. Great. Let’s do this.”