Page 132 of Wicked Games

“Margo!” Dad called. “It’s okay, honey. Come on out.”

I ran out of Caleb’s room, down the stairs, and launched myself into Dad’s arms. Caleb was on the floor at his dad’s feet, scrambling to pick up the chess pieces. I tried to help, but Dad held me fast to his side.

“Caleb was going to teach me how to play,” I whispered into his shirt.

Dad looked from me to Caleb, then Caleb’s dad.

“What did she say?” Caleb’s dad snapped.

“Caleb and Margo wanted to learn how to play chess,” Dad said. He released me and bent down. He picked up the box, sliding the board inside. One by one, he took the pieces out of Caleb’s hand and put them in their foam slots, his hands steady. Then that, too, was added to the box. “I think we can do it in our living room. Margo’s mom was a chess champion back in her day. Maybe she can give us some pointers.”

He straightened and tucked the box under his arm.

Caleb’s dad stared at mine. “Well.”

“Amber will be over soon, I’m sure,” Dad said. “I’ll send Caleb back with her. Or maybe later?”

“Well,” Caleb’s dad said again. The wind had been taken out of his sails.

Dad took my hand. I took Caleb’s.

My first hero marched us out of the house, and we didn’t look back. It didn’t make it okay—it didn’t erase the pops and flashes of terror the sight of Caleb’s dad incited. But knowing Dad was just a minute away sure did help.

Present

“Riley,” I choke out, sinking to my knees.

A tsunami wave of sadness hits me square in the chest. I didn’t realize how much I missed my dad until I recalled that fear of Caleb’s.

I dig my fingernails into the wood.

“Tell me,” she says.

I lay out what I remembered. It wasn’t necessarily a new memory, or a previously blocked one, but it was one I had shuffled to the very back of my mind. Caleb’s dad had a temper. It matches what I dreamed about—my mom and him in an argument.

We go back downstairs, and she looks out the sliding doors to the guest house across the lawn.

“Your dad heard him yelling from in the house.” Riley’s face is pale. “That must’ve been terrifying as a kid.”

“Yeah.” More so for Caleb than me, I’m sure.

I lock the sliding door behind us and replace the key where I found it.

“Caleb invited me to the football team’s championship game at Lion’s Head,” I tell her. “Well, I don’t know if I can call it an invitation. He said, ‘Come with me.’”

Riley glances at me. “That matches his personality.”

“Did Eli ask you?”

“No. He’ll probably just show up at my house and demand I go with him.” She shrugs and gestures to the door. It’s unlocked, but I haven’t opened it yet. “Let’s do this thing.”

“It’s weird in here,” I warn her. “Like stepping back in time.”

“Okay.”

I shove the door open, ready to be assailed by memories.

But I’m not. It’s empty.

---