Page 61 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

“I’ve come to request Coach remove you from the lacrosse team.”

Silence.

My jaw drops open, and Coach… well, to his credit, seems equally flabbergasted.

I snap my mouth closed at the same time that Coach seems to shake off his surprise. He straightens in his seat, eyes narrowing at my uncle.

Well, this should be interesting.

“I hate to tell you this, David, but you can’t come in here and demand—”

“Request,” Uncle interrupts. “Very politely. You see, I think lacrosse is a bad influence on Caleb. He’s following in your footsteps, after all.”

“How’s that?” I ask, unable to help myself.

Uncle glances at me. “Falling for a girl, acting ludicrously… it’s only a matter of time before the girl turns up pregnant and ruins everything the Ashers have worked toward.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Dad ruined everything he worked for when he sold the company. Right? Your name isn’t on the door, even.”

Uncle’s hand twitches. If we were home…

Well, I’ll pay for this later.

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, Dad whispers in my ear. Besides the points of inexplicable rage, he was actually a good dad. He taught me some valuable lessons before he was taken from us. Did I fear him?

A decent amount. Especially at ten.

Did he hit me?

No worse than Uncle… and there was always a reprieve, where good things happened. It was almost better when he hit me and got it over with, because the following week was bliss.

Uncle has no such calm period after the storm. With him, the storm is always raging.

“You are under my supervision,” Uncle snaps. “And I think—”

“Well, technically, the Blacks were awarded guardianship in court,” Coach says. His eyes go back and forth between Uncle and me, and…

My stomach flips.

Does he see what a monster my uncle actually is?

Worse than I’ve ever been. Worse than how Coach has ever acted.

“They sign all of Caleb’s permission slips and are his emergency contact. Have been since…” Coach shrugs, but his eyes are gleaming. “Well, I suppose you know the catalyst of that decision better than most, right, David?”

Uncle leaps to his feet, his face turning a mottled red. “I will not be outdone!”

He storms out of the room.

A sick feeling coils in my gut.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Coach demands.

I stare at him. “I thought you knew.”

For a while, Uncle’s abuse was a rumor that flew over Emery-Rose like a flash fire. Everyone was talking about poor little Caleb. I had bruises and a cracked rib at fourteen years old. I’d already been living with the Blacks for a while, but it didn’t matter.

Uncle picked me up from school one day. He had discovered my adventures all over the county.

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