Page 69 of Wicked Dreams

My heartbeat is going to jump out of my throat, but I focus on his lips. He makes a show of inhaling and exhaling dramatically, enough for me to follow along.

My vision blurs.

Did I do something wrong?

“You didn’t—no one?—”

“We left it,” he says. “No one’s gone in there since they took you away.”

“Caleb.” I don’t know why it sounds like I’m pleading with him. I’m still gripping his wrists. His forearms are scratched…

My mother shaking me hard enough to snap my head back.

I flinch at the jarring thought. “Those are my things. My childhood.”

All of my memories of my parents are in that house.

He cups my cheek. “You don’t go in there. It isn’t yours to take.”

Itismine.

My life unraveled, and all I want is to roll it back up again. Now Caleb is the gatekeeper to my past.

My present.

Hell, maybe my future—but not if I have anything to do with it.

“Please,” I whisper. I’m less than air, floating away. His hand on my cheek, hotter than fire, is the only thing keeping me grounded.

Butpleaseis the wrong word to say.

His gaze hardens. His fingers dig into my skin, as if he’d like nothing less than to claw my heart out. He leans in close, close enough that I could move forward just a bit and kiss him if I wanted to. Or bite him.

Or claw his eyes out.

His gaze goes from my lips to my eyes and back, the burning fury at odds with how soft his hand still is on my face. For the briefest moments, I had my friend. But he’s quickly reverting back to the bully.

His posture straightens, shoulders back. The arrogant asshole transforms right before my eyes, and one word decrees my death sentence: “No.”

Chapter 15

Margo

When I was seven, we moved into the Ashers’ guest house. It didn’t occur to me what it was at that point—I just thought it was cool that there was another house so close. We shared a driveway, and my mom happened to work right across the lawn in their home.

It didn’t make sense until I overheard my parents talking about Mom’s employers:the Ashers. We weren’t here by accident. This house didn’t magically become ours.

My mom pulled me out of my new room one day, maybe a week or two after moving in, and brought me across the grass to the Asher house.

She introduced me to Caleb. A boy with short, dark hair and huge, piercing blue eyes. He was in a school uniform, and his mom was there, too. She was waiting with him in the kitchen, trying to stop him from disappearing farther into his huge house.

He stopped fidgeting when we walked in.

Our moms smiled at each other, while Caleb and I just stared.

The next day, my mom presented me with a similar uniform—in dress form, though—and drove me to my new school. Caleb was in my kindergarten class, although he didn’t really look twice at me.

He was as odd as an alien. He ran around with boys twice his size and didn’t flinch. I made friends with some girls and stuck close to them. We played with dolls and dressed up, hanging out in their big rooms in their giant homes. Their closets were almost bigger than my entire room.

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