Page 157 of Wicked Dreams

I can’t face Caleb now, or even Robert. I can’t walk into school like this.

Can I stay here?

I pant and lie there and contemplate screaming.

How long I’m here, I don’t know. My eyes close, and I just try to make myself breathe normally. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. Spit out the dirt. Inhale, exhale.

A branch snaps, and suddenly Caleb is there.

“Oh my God, Margo.” His voice is pure worry.

I can’t move. My muscles are locked, stiff. My stomach is agony, and so is my throat. I couldn’t even pull down my sleeve to cover the evidence of Ian’s more noticeable cruelty.

Caleb gently moves my wrists away from my body.

He takes in the tears on my cheeks, and God knows what else. I stare into his eyes. Maybe he’ll take the pain away for good. Set me free.

In one motion, I’m lifted into the air. I cry out but wrap my arms around his neck so he doesn’t put me down. Ever perceptive, he pauses.

“Who did this to you, baby?” His tone promises violence, and my heart sings with the need for vengeance.

No matter what I’ve done, I didn’t deservethis.

I try to inch closer to him. My face in his neck, my arms locked around his shoulders. He walks carefully, mindful that every step jostles me.

“Ian,” I whisper in his ear.

His exhale is loud and sharp.

“I’m going to kill him.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “He’ll pay for this, baby.”

There’s something to be said about having my own personal monster. I know he’ll avenge me.

He puts me in his car. Tells me to stay. Locks me in and disappears back into the school.

Maybe he’ll go hunt down Ian. Or maybe he’s finding Robert?

My mouth still tastes like blood; the coppery taste never quite left.

I focus on my knees. They’re a bit scraped up, but I don’t know when that happened. There’s dirt on my legs. The pantyhose we wear with our skirts, part of our uniform, are ripped on my calf. When I move, dirt falls from my shirt. My eyes keep filling with tears. I make fists out of my hands, my nails pinching my palms.

I blink furiously.

Caleb returns, tossing something into the backseat. He slides in behind the wheel and looks over at me, then jerks back to face forward. “Just hold on.”

We go to Eli’s house. Maybe it’s because Caleb doesn’t want me to see his parents and Eli’s are away—I don’t ask. I don’t really want to see his parents or go back to that house either.

He comes around and opens my door, scooping me up. In silence, he carries me into the house and down to the basement. It’s vaguely familiar down here. There’s a couch and a television mounted to the wall, a bed in the far corner.

He sets me on the edge of the bed and kneels next to me.

“I’m thinking there’s more to this than your arm,” he whispers. “Am I right?”

I nod.

He unbuttons my shirt, slowly pushing it off my shoulders. It falls behind me, and he leans back slightly. He presses his lips together, rage flickering over his face like candlelight.

I follow his gaze down.

---