: Chapter 32
Caleb has disappeared—again. I swear to God, I’m going to kill his uncle. I was expecting him last night after their family dinner. With no texts, no calls, and no climbing in through my window, I’ve surmised something is terribly wrong.
I even made Eli show me Caleb’s basement room, which was empty, to make sure they weren’t doing a better job of lying to me.
And now I’m outside the Asher mansion.
I freeze at the door, my body unwilling to go any farther. I’m pretty sure the family hates me for reasons I can’t remember. And a little thing like memory loss wouldn’t hold up against years of anger.
So if this is fight or flight, I’m choosing freeze.
Riley climbs out of the car behind me. “I don’t think anyone is here.”
I blow out a long, slow breath and glance back at her. “Why?”
She shrugs, joining me on the wide, covered front steps. “It’s getting dark out, and there are no lights on.”
“Right.” I ring the doorbell and hold my breath.
Because I suffered through the full day at school, just to make sure that Caleb wasn’t going to spontaneously show up.
And when he didn’t, my worry only deepened.
Eli, Liam, and Theo echoed my concern. But they’re at hockey practice, so Riley and I are here alone.
No one answers the door.
“So… you ever going to tell me what happened with your social worker?” she asks.
I grimace. “She wants me to see a therapist. I guess this kind of transition can be delicate, or whatever. The Bryans didn’t think it was a terrible idea, so we scheduled an appointment for after Christmas. Also, I’m going in.”
Into the house, I mean.
“Margo—”
The door is unlocked. I pause with it open a crack, expecting sirens. Nothing. A huge place like this doesn’t have a security system?
We creep into the foyer. Riley follows close behind me, almost touching my back. When no one comes running, we both straighten.
“That was a little anticlimactic,” she murmurs. “Plus, a therapist? You can’t just say that and then walk into someone else’s house. It kind of proves that you do need one.”
“Caleb is in here. I can feel it.”
“I’ll stand lookout, I guess. You search for him.” She shivers. “I’m picturing him tied up somewhere. Is that awful?”
I elbow her. “Don’t even think that.”
Eli saunters in through the open door, and both of us jump.
“What are you doing here?” Riley whisper-yells.
He rolls his eyes. “Have you met David Asher? He’s terrifying. You guys should not be breaking into his house.”
Our eyes go wide, and he laughs.
“Kidding. I meant, you shouldn’t be breaking in alone. Which is why I’m here. I moved your car, too, by the way. You should never park in the driveway to burgle.”
Well. He does have a point.
“I’m still keeping lookout,” Riley tells us.
She stays in the foyer. Eli and I split up. I take the first floor, and Eli jogs up the stairs to the second floor. The house is giant, I’ll just say that. There are rooms upon rooms, each more extravagant than the last. But more than that, they’re old. Antique furniture and dark wood on the walls. Rugs that have probably never been stepped on, chairs and couches that’ve never had kids bounce on them.
It’s cold. Worse than Caleb’s house. Winter is upon us, and it feels like the heat has been shut off.
I find an office-looking room, with a chessboard on the floor. The pieces are scattered across a thick rug. I shiver and keep moving.
I get to a closed door and pause in front of it. Up until now, everything has been open. I hesitate for a fraction of a second.
A low moan comes from the other side.
I shove the door open and go still at the darkness inside. After a moment of feeling along the wall, my fingers hit the light switch.
Blinding lights flicker on in the ceiling.
My gaze flies around, searching for the threat. It’s a game room with a pinball machine, a pool table, and other various games, but only one person in it.
Caleb.
He’s on the floor, his back against the wall. Like he was sitting and then fell over. His eyes are closed.
There’s blood on the wall. Just a smear, but enough that my heart hammers.
I rush to him, falling to my knees. “Caleb, wake up.”
His eyes flutter open.
For a long moment, I question whether he recognizes me. He blinks slowly, squinting, then touches the back of his head. “Little lamb. What are you doing here?”
“Coming to rescue you, of course.”
His fingers come away wet with blood. “What day is it?”
“What?”
“The day—or night, judging from the dark room behind you.”
“Glad you’re with it enough to notice it’s dark out,” I grumble. “It’s Tuesday evening. I got worried when you didn’t show up last night after your family dinner.”
He smiles. “Just wanted to see how long it took you to notice.”
“You’re really going to dissect the time it took me to find you?”
He shrugs and climbs to his feet. He staggers a bit, catching himself on the wall. I grab on to his waist, steadying him. He’s bleeding. From his head. And he’s watching me like he’s worried about me.
He rubs his thumb between my brows.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to erase your concern.”
I scoff. “I found you on the floor in a dark room. I’m not supposed to be concerned?”
He shrugs. “Nope. I’m fine.”
After a little wobble, he straightens and manages to walk without falling over. He leads me out of the room, into a hallway that cuts straight to the kitchen. He locates a bag of frozen veggies from the freezer and puts it to the back of his head, winking at me. “Let’s get out of here before my uncle decides it’s time for round two.”
“Eli is wandering around upstairs,” I tell him.
He pauses. “Is he now?”
“Nope!” Eli calls. He propels Riley in front of him into the kitchen. “Your aunt and uncle just got home. Aren’t you glad I moved your car, Ri?”
She tries to scowl, but the fear bleeds through.
“We need to leave right now,” Caleb barks. He leads us out the back door and around the corner of the house, to the side of the garage.
The vertical opening is loud from our position, and we wait until it’s silent for us to make a break for it. We hurry along the tall shrubs dividing the property from their neighbors, and I take a moment to cast a silent thank you that Eli moved Riley’s car. We slip past the slowly closing gate and onto the sidewalk.
Around the corner, we pile into Riley’s car. Eli in the driver’s seat, the keys in his hand, Riley beside him in the front, and Caleb and me in the back.
All of us let out relieved sighs. I lean into Caleb’s side, wrapping my arms around him.
“Didn’t take you very long at all,” he muses. “Eli?”
He glances back at us. “Well, we all know what happened last time…”
I shudder.
“I told him to shove it,” Caleb informs us. “And then he hit me with something… I don’t know. I was on my way out the door. He didn’t like that very much.”
We’re on the road, but I still push up onto my knees and move the frozen vegetable bag out of the way. He leans forward slightly, letting me inspect his scalp. There’s an inch-long gash of oozing blood just above where his neck meets his skull.
“He could’ve killed you,” I whisper.
Eli growls. “This is ridiculous. I’m telling my parents—I don’t care what you say.”
Caleb doesn’t react.
“They won’t let David come back. We’ll change the locks—”
“I just have to last four more weeks,” Caleb says woodenly. “That’s all.”
“At the rate he’s going?” Eli mocks. “You’ll be dead in three.”
I imagine this isn’t the first time they’ve had such a conversation.
We end up back at Eli’s house, and the four of us head inside. I hang back a minute, sending a text to Robert and Lenora. Ms. McCaw made a point about good, open communication, and I want to do well. A part of me fears any more missteps could have me sent away. So much has gone wrong, already.
Hence the texting.
A minute later my phone buzzes.
Robert
Len and I are fine with you sleeping over. We won’t tell. Have fun with Riley!
Okay, so maybe my communication isn’t the best… And yes, a sleepover is technically breaking foster kid one-oh-one. But with a month and a half left, there’s low risk for great reward.
“Come on, Wolfe!” Eli yells from the doorway. “We’re ordering pizza!”
I tuck my phone away and go in, taking a deep breath. Riley and Eli are in the kitchen. I peek into the living room and dining room, then make my way down to the basement.
Caleb is standing in the middle of the room. His attention is focused on his bed.
“You okay?” I ask.
He turns toward me. His eyes are dark. He lowers the frozen bag from his head and beckons me closer. “You came for me.”
I shift, taking a small step in his direction.
“Margo.”
“Don’t make it a big deal.”
He meets me halfway, his hand sliding around my neck and into my hair.
I melt. Can’t help it. I hold on to his waist and tip my head back. He leans down, and my heart pounds, tremors spreading through me. His lips are millimeters away, and he pauses.
“It is a big deal. Can you admit that?”
I press my lips together.
He smiles, twisting to the side. He kisses the corner of my mouth.
I’m already winded.
“You care so damn much,” he goads.
“Stop.”
“Is it a bad thing?”
Is it? Caring about people gets them taken away. He taught me that.
Caleb’s body is flush against mine, so I can feel just how much he cares. His lips travel down the side of my jaw, to my throat. I jump at the scrape of his teeth on my skin, the feeling sending sparks through me like runaway firecrackers.
“God,” I moan. “Fine. It is a big deal. I hate your uncle for hitting you. I wish you didn’t get hurt. I—”
I almost just confessed my heart because he’s kissing my neck.
Grow up, Margo.
I grab his face and drag it to mine. I capture his lower lip in my teeth, nipping and releasing. He growls deep in the back of his throat, but he lets me have control. I walk him backward until his knees hit the side of the bed.
He lowers himself, and I straddle him, opening his lips and sliding my tongue into his mouth. His hips raise ever so slightly, his erection rubbing against my core.
“I need to feel you,” I whisper. “Is this going to hurt?”
“Fuck, no,” he says.
I yank off my leggings and climb back on him. He unbuckles his pants, then tugs them down far enough for his erection to spring free.
I scoot backward and bend forward. I take him in my mouth. My eyes close, and my fingers dig into his thighs, as I suck. His groan is an encouragement, and I swirl my tongue over the head of his cock. I take him deeper, sucking, and his thighs automatically tense. I open my jaw wider. Something inside me chants, more, more, more. He hits the back of my throat. I choke a little but keep going. My nostrils flare.
Deeper.
He hisses out a breath. I come back up, sucking and stroking him with my hand. His fingers wind in my hair, taking back an ounce of power.
“Fuck, Margo,” he grunts.
I keep going until he can’t control the movement of his hips.
He abruptly yanks me up onto his chest. “If you keep doing that, I’ll come, and where would that leave you?”
I barely have time to catch my breath while he situates me on his lap, then he drives up into me.
I put my hands on his chest and lean back. He completes me. And yeah, that’s some bullshit we could go over in therapy, but right now? I let my head fall back and I feel it. It’s like a soulmate thing, I think. I rise, thrilled at the sight of him between my legs, then slowly lower back onto him. I’m shakier than a newborn deer, every micro-movement sending waves of electricity through me.
Once I’m steady, I move faster. Our thighs slap together.
His grip tightens on my hips, slamming me down onto him.
“Look at me.” His hand slips to my clit.
I gasp, holding on to him. It’s too much. There’s too much emotion assaulting me. He’s hitting a spot deep inside me, working me up higher. I freeze, and an orgasm crashes over me. It’s barely slowed when he flips me onto my back and thrusts into me.
His pace is brutal, but it doesn’t last. He shudders above me, letting his head fall to my shoulder as he comes. His whole body jerks, then stills.
“Did that make your head worse?” I ask.
“Maybe. But it was worth it.”
“Come on, lovebirds,” Eli yells from the top of the stairs. “Pizza is here!”
“Perfect timing.” Caleb kisses the tip of my nose. He rocks his hips again, humming under his breath, then slowly withdraws.
I follow him into the bathroom, and we clean up in silence.
Upstairs, Eli and Riley laugh at us.
“Couldn’t wait until after we ate, huh?” Eli throws an ice pack at Caleb.
My face heats up. We were pretty quiet, but—
“You reek of sex,” Eli continues. “Seriously, guys. It’s kind of turning me on.”
Riley jabs him with her elbow.
I go to the boxes of pizza and ignore their chatter. I’m still tangled in a web of worry. He probably has a concussion. I just fucked a concussed person.
I don’t have an appetite. I stare down at the pizza, inhaling the scent of cheese and garlic, and my stomach turns over.
It isn’t just finding Caleb bloody and alone in his uncle’s house. It’s that plus the fact that he kissed my nose and my heart skipped a beat. It’s that Ms. McCaw visited and she asked how I was doing, and for the first time in a really freaking long time, I was able to say, Great!
We talked about long-term fostering, going to court to petition for the Bryans’ right to adopt me, the steps we’d have to take. She mentioned restarting therapy, and Robert and Lenora agreed. Even if I’m not a hundred percent sure I want my father to give up his rights.
Do I ask?
Does someone else?
I exhale and close the lid on the pizza.
Caleb comes up behind me, one hand coming around my waist, and his hand splays over my stomach, pulling me back against him.
“Not hungry?” he asks. “After that?”
I shrug, glancing away.
Why can’t I just lean into happiness? It’s right there, begging me to take it.
“What’s wrong?” His breath hits my neck, followed by his lips.
I tilt my head to the side. His other arm comes around me, dropping the ice pack on the counter, then locking around my chest. I’m thoroughly encompassed.
“You can tell me.”
“Everything,” I whisper. “Everything’s wrong. Do you ever just feel sad for no reason?”
He twists me around, cupping my jaw and tilting my head up.
I keep my gaze on his chin.
“Margo.”
I press my lips together. My chin wobbles, though. The traitor.
“You have every reason to fall apart. It’s my fault—when you first got here, I wanted you to break. But I changed my mind.” He frowns. “You changed my mind. Because you’re still…”
I’m hanging on the edge of a knife.
“You’re still good. A bit devious.” He winks. “But in your heart?”
“Stop.” I push away from him.
He doesn’t let me go. His fingers dig into my neck, and he tugs me even closer. “You stop. Don’t run away.”
I wasn’t is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t voice it.
He releases me and grabs the box of pizza.
“I don’t think I can be vertical for much longer,” he announces to Riley and Eli.
They pause their conversation. Riley’s eyebrows jump up.
“Come on, Margo.” And then he just leaves. His feet pounding down the steps to the basement.
“You okay?” Riley asks me.
If only people would stop asking me that. I force a smile. “Super okay.”
“Don’t let him push you around,” she says.
I scoff.
“She’s been on a roll standing up to him,” she adds, glancing at Eli.
He glowers at her.
“On that note, I’m going home.” She slings her purse over her shoulder.
Eli jumps up. “What? Already?”
“I still have a curfew.”
“Fine,” he snaps. “You need to drive me back to my truck.”
Her eyes round. “In Beacon?”
He shrugs.
I watch the two of them walk out, and suddenly I’m entirely alone.
It doesn’t feel good.
I hurry to the basement and stop on the third-to-last stair. Caleb suddenly appears at the bottom. At this angle, I’m just a little taller than him.
“Eli and Riley leave?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And you?”
I shake my head. “What about me?”
“Do you want to leave?” His eyes are impossibly dark.
“You should get some rest.” I go up a step.
He follows me. One for one. “They say the opposite for a concussion. If I have one, which is doubtful. I’ve had a few concussions in my life.”
“From your uncle?”
“From hockey.” His smile doesn’t linger.
“What do you remember?”
He huffs. “I’ll tell you if you’re naked.”
I hesitate.
“Clothes off. All of them this time.”
In our haste, we hadn’t removed our shirts. But now… I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it off, letting it fall from my fingertips behind me. My bra is next. He drags my leggings over my hips, and I hold his shoulders to step out of them. Then panties.
He hops off the step and stares at me.
“Your turn,” I mumble, trying not to let my self-consciousness overwhelm me. I haven’t had this feeling before—shaky. The last time we had good sex, in the hotel room after the ball, I trusted him. We’ve had crazy sex since then, but… I don’t know if I trust him now.
He captured my heart so slowly, I barely realized he was taking it. But my heart is just a fraction of the picture. And now, letting him peruse my body, it’s obvious there are still broken shards between us.
He wants it that way. He thinks he’s broken. The thought comes on suddenly, out of nowhere. But he’s so wrong.
I will file you smooth, I vow to him. One sharp edge at a time.
“Strip,” I demand. “Fair is fair.”
His eyebrow jumps up. “Have we ever played fair?”
I raise my chin. “Starting now.”
He just watches me for a moment, then nods. He unbuttons his pants and lets them drop around his ankles. Then boxers. He hesitates on his shirt, but I have no such reservations. Not when it comes to him.
I walk to him and take over, pulling his shirt over his head. I drop it on the floor and run my finger down his chest. He has hard abs and faint white scars. I circle around him, tracing an invisible path with my index finger, and he stands perfectly still.
I touch a pink, raised scar. This was a welt not too long ago. A welt at his uncle’s hand.
He shudders. Goosebumps rise on his skin.
I suck my lower lip between my teeth and keep going. There are old scars, barely visible in the low light. Circular ones that catch the light.
“Did he burn you?”
He sighs. “I don’t know what’s worse—growing up like you did, or like me.”
I lean forward and kiss one of the scars. He shivers beneath my lips, and my chest aches like he just punched out my heart. He had family, but at a steep cost.
“I wish I remembered what happened.”
He turns around and lifts my chin with his finger. “Do you?”
“You could tell me,” I whisper.
He shakes his head and pushes my hair off my shoulder. “You’d never believe me.”
My mind goes back to ten years old. One minute we’re happy kids chasing each other through his house. Blank. I’m scratching at the door. Blank. I’m at the park with Dad.
The gaping holes will drive me mad.
I open my mouth to ask another question.
“Leave it for tonight,” he says. “I wasn’t lying about my head hurting.”
Well, then. I climb into his bed, folding myself into a little ball with my back against the wall. I pat the space beside me. “You said you’d tell me what you remember.”
He joins me, picking me up and putting me on his lap. I wrap my arm around his shoulders. The room is a bit chilly, and goosebumps break out along my arms and legs. He draws a pattern on my thigh.
“What do I remember?” he muses. “Yelling at my uncle. Telling him enough was enough.”
“Yelling at him about what?”
“My right to live my life.”
It’s a bit cryptic, honestly, but I don’t question him further. We just sit in the quiet for a few minutes. My eyes track the pattern he’s drawing on my thigh. A circle, a cross, a loop. A word.
B. R. A. V. E.
“Who are you calling brave?”
He pauses. “I heard a woman screaming. It’s weird, right? Aunt Iris is used to her husband’s… outbursts.”
“Does he hit her?”
He flinches. “I doubt it. Uncle David has other ways of keeping her and my mother under control.”
The last time I asked about his dad, I got shut down. I keep my questions about him to myself this time. There will be other days to ask where his dad went. Did I drive him away? I know something had to have happened with my mother. I didn’t just make the Ashers hate me—I made her leave me.
What kind of child does that?
“You’re in your head again.”
I meet his eyes. “Misery loves company.”
That gets a smile out of him. He kisses me softly, but it doesn’t last. We weren’t meant to be soft. So I let him push me onto my back and take away the aching in my bones.