Page 68 of Wicked Games

As soon as I turn eighteen, I’m out of here. That wasn’t always the plan, but it sure as hell is now. Less than three months to go.

Caleb refutes his coach’s words, though, with a shake of his head. “I don’t party. I don’t drink. And Margo?—”

I glance at him. Margo, what? What lie is he going to spin now?

“We’re dating,” he finishes smoothly. “What happens outside of that is our business.”

Coach Marzden appraises us, and it’s hard not to squirm.

“Could’ve sworn I heard a rumor that you two broke up.”

Caleb raises his eyebrows.

I take a breath.

“We did break up, sir.” I stand, straightening my skirt. “I’ve told him repeatedly, and he doesn’t get it. Frankly, he borders on stalkerish sometimes.”

Coach’s mouth drops open.

I slide my phone back into my bag and stride out of the office. The door sounds with a solidclickbehind me, and I check just to make sure Caleb didn’t chase after me.

The situation didn’t unfold the way I imagined, but I still accomplished something. Still bit away at his coach’s trust in him, just like he’s been doing to me for years with my foster family.

Will Caleb believe that this mystery stalker is the one who sent the note? If he doesn’t, I’m afraid I might be on the receiving end of Caleb’s anger once again.

Chapter 17

Caleb

“What am I going to do with you?” Coach asks.

I make a face. “I wasn’t lying. We’re dating. She just doesn’t want to see reason.”

Every fiber of my being screams,She’s mine!It isn’t my fault she doesn’t see it. That she doesn’t agree. She eventually will. And I can’t even be mad that she’s finally showing a spine.

Not such a little lamb after all.

No, Margo’s becoming a wolf, and damn, that turns me on. Even if it’s at my expense.

I’m a sick fucker, thinking about Margo while Coach is glaring at me. I think he realizes that, because his face contorts.

“Do I strip you of the captaincy altogether?”

I focus.

“Maybe call your mother?”

He’s fishing for a punishment that will hurt the most.

“Your uncle would probably have something to say,” Coach says.

He’s only saying that because he doesn’t know that of all of us, the true monster is Uncle David. Not my mother. Not holding their aspirations of which fucking college I should go to over my head.

I sigh. “Coach…”

“You’re going to make me the list of colleges that you’re applying to, and I’ll have a chat with your uncle about your behavior. You’re coming off the rails, son.”

My body already hurts at the thought of that.

---