Page 114 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

My eyebrow goes up of its own accord. “Huh?”

“The day—or night, judging from the dark room behind you.”

“Glad you’re with it enough to notice it’s dark out,” I grumble. “It’s Saturday night. Like eight-ish. I texted you twice, but you didn’t respond, and I got worried. Why?”

“Just wanted to see how long it took you to notice.”

“You’re really going to dissect the time it took me to find you?”

He shrugs and climbs to his feet. I rise, too, holding out my hands. He doesn’t need me, although he does take one of my hands, tugging me closer.

He rubs his thumb between my brows.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to erase your concern.”

I scoff. “I found you on the floor in a dark room. I’m not supposed to be concerned?”

He shrugs. “Nope. I’m fine.” He leads me out of the room, into a hallway that cuts straight to the kitchen. He grabs a bag of frozen veggies and puts it to the back of his head, winking at me. “Let’s leave.”

“Eli is still wandering around,” I say.

He pauses. “Is he now?”

“Nope!” Eli says, rushing toward us. He propels Riley in front of us. “Your aunt and uncle just got home.”

Caleb straightens. “Everyone out!”

We slip out the back door, around the side of the house. The garage door opening is loud, and we wait until it’s silent for us to open the gate. We slink along the tall shrubs dividing the property from their neighbors, and I take a moment to cast a silent thank you that Eli moved his truck.

Once we’re in, all of us let out relieved sighs. I lean into Caleb’s side, wrapping my arms around him.

“Didn’t take you very long at all,” he muses. “Eli?”

He glances back at us. “Well, we all know what happened last time…”

I shudder.

“I told him to shove it,” he informs us. “And then he hit me with something… I don’t know. I was on my way out.”

We’re on the road, but I still push up onto my knees and move the bag out of the way. He leans forward slightly, letting me inspect his scalp. There’s an inch-long gash of dried blood just above where his neck meets his skull.

“He could’ve killed you,” I whisper.

Eli growls. “This is ridiculous. I’m telling my parents—not all of it, don’t throw a fucking hissy fit back there.”

Caleb doesn’t react.

“They won’t let David come back. We’ll change the locks—”

“I just have to last four more months,” Caleb says woodenly. “That’s all.”

“That’s all,” Eli sneers.

I imagine this isn’t the first time they’ve had such a conversation.

We end up back at Eli’s house, and the four of us pile out. I hang back a minute, sending a text to Robert and Lenora. Angela made a point about communication, and I want to do well. I want them to actually like me enough to let me stay.

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