Page 89 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

It’s hard to get attached to a family. But once you do… something usually comes along to fuck it up. That’s why I want to keep the Jenkinses at arm’s length. I like them. But if I were to be ripped away, right this moment, I wouldn’t be that devastated.

Okay, maybe I would.

It’s the grief of losing families—over and over and over—that kills your spirit. I’ve seen it happen too many times to let it happen to me. I’ve got less than a year left, and I need to escape intact.

“Are you near Rose Hill?” I ask.

“We’re in the next town over. They put me in the fancy-as-hell high school. It’s been a trip.” She chuckles.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here, though.”

I sag on the bed. “Maybe since you’re close, we can meet up one day. I’d love to see Hanna, too.”

“We’d love that,” Claire answers, her voice noticeably lighter. “We’ve missed you, Wolfe.”

“Oh, shoot.” I smack my forehead. “I’m grounded, Claire.”

“What on earth did you do to get grounded?”

“Came home drunk,” I say in a low voice.

Her laughter gets louder. “Priceless. Got any videos of that? I’d love to see you drunk—”

“No.” It comes out a little harsher than I intended. “Sorry, Claire. Little touchy about it.”

“What’s going on with you, Margo? Are the new foster parents that bad?”

“They’re great.” I flop sideways, my head hitting the pillow. “I just… I’m worried, okay?”

“Listen.” Claire has never been a rational one. Her ideas are half-crazed most of the time. Of the two of us, she’s been the instigator. The troublemaker. “Sneak out and meet me on Friday. At lunchtime.”

Yep. She’s crazy.

“I have to be back for last period,” I tell her. “My foster dad is my teacher.”

“Brutal.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, let’s meet at the mall! Friday. You’ll be back before anyone notices.”

There’s no use arguing with her. Claire with an idea is a girl on the warpath.

“I don’t have a ride,” I try.

“Get one of your friends to drive you,” she says. “Or the guy who got you drunk.”

I shake my head. Maybe Riley will do it if I bribe her…

“I’ll let you know. Okay?”

“Love ya, sis,” Claire says, making a kissy noise into the phone.

The line goes dead before I can respond.

22

I walk into the courtyard and spot Riley almost immediately. She has a bubble of space around her, which is unusual. The golden boys are the ones who get breathing room—not us.

As I make my way closer, the courtyard slowly drains of noise.

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