Page 10 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

“I know.”

He leaves, and I’m reminded that he was just doing this not too long ago. Different state, different circumstances… same fucked-up feeling going into a hospital gives you.

He’s not going to be back for a while.

I hunch lower and eye the people going in and out of the ER. Margo’s behind a locked door. Just when I had her in my arms again…

Eli’s dad bursts into the waiting room, gaze swinging around before he finds me. He’s usually a composed man, but right now…

Ah.

Detective Masters is right behind him.

“His goal is to make a scene,” Mr. Black says. “He can’t do anything. He has no evidence.”

I stand. “What’s going on?”

Mr. Black stops in front of me. “He wants to bring you down to the station for questioning. He thinks you—it doesn’t matter. It’s best if we go. He’s threatening to get an arrest warrant if you don’t go amicably—bunch of bullshit, if you ask me, but it’s harder to scrub that from your record. I’ll follow you there.”

“Mr. Asher,” Detective Masters calls. He’s got a gleam in his eye like he’s about to enjoy this next part.

I wish I knew what I did in our ten-minute interview to make such an impression.

“You’re going to come down to the station with me. We need to have a little chat.”

I stiffen. They’re going to take me away from the hospital. And what will be the first thing Margo sees? Someone who doesn’t give a fuck about her? Her social worker, or worse, the detective himself.

“I can’t right now,” I tell them. “Margo will wake up soon.”

“Now, Caleb, I doubt Margo would want to hear that you refused to help on her case.” He smirks. “Just imagine how hurt she might be by that information.”

“Come on, son,” Mr. Black whispers.

I stare at him for a moment, then turn back to the detective. “Fine.”

He guides me by the arm out of the hospital.

Lenora almost runs head-first into us at the sliding doors. “Caleb! D-Detective Masters!” Her attention bounces back and forth. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Just have a few questions for Mr. Asher, here,” the detective says.

I would very much like to punch him in the face.

Break his nose, maybe.

“But—”

“We’ve got to get going.” He sounds apologetic. “I’ll be in touch once Margo is awake.”

She nods, scanning my face, then steps to the side.

He hauls me outside, and his grip gets firmer. “Like that little show, did you, boy? You have a grim look on your pretty face. Heh. Not used to getting caught, more like.”

I say nothing.

He puts me in the back of his car, his hand heavy on the back of my head.

He hasn’t arrested me, but it sure feels like he’s about to cart me off and lock me away. My mind jumps ahead to the implications, and what my uncle would do when he finds out, then circles back to Margo.

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