Page 31 of Wicked Promises
“But Caleb is nothing like his dad!”
He raises his hands. “I know. It’s an archaic, simple way of thinking. And to answer your next question, the law allows them to hold suspects for up to seventy-two hours before charging them with a crime. When Masters was unable to bring any other evidence to the District Attorney, Caleb was released.”
My eyes are huge.
He grimaces. “Once he gets his teeth into something, it’s hard for him to let go.”
“I told him Caleb was innocent.”
He sighs. “You did. Doesn’t mean the truth can’t be twisted.”
“Like… my dad’s trial?”
“What makes you say that?”
I shift on the seat, suddenly nervous.
“Margo, stop.” Josh rubs at his eyes. “I know this is hard. You just saw your dad, and I’m sure he professed his innocence. Then someone took you, which is traumatic. You were drugged?—”
“Wait. Drugged?”
Drugged?
“The toxicology report came back. Your social worker got the results before they discharged you.”
I swallow that information. It makes sense that they wouldn’t let me leave without knowing what was in my blood. Still. I lean back and cross my arms over my chest. “What was I drugged with?”
“Margo…”
I’m beginning to think everyone in this damn town is keeping things from me.
“I deserve to know, Mr. Black,” I say. “It’s my body. Honestly, the doctors should’ve told me.”
He nods. “We’ll find out, okay?”
We sit and stare at each other for a moment.
“My dad did say he was innocent,” I say quietly. “And I believe him.”
I have so many questions, I can’t begin to frame them in my mind. I can’t help but think everything would be easier if all my memories returned.
“Margo?” He looks pointedly at my hands. “You’re bleeding.”
I release my wrist, where a thin line oozes blood. The rest of my wrist is covered in scratch marks. “Oh, um, I’m going to go put a… Band-Aid on it.”
He says nothing, and I rush away. Instead of going back up to the safety of my temporary room, I go to the basement. Caleb’s space.
He’s not here—he went for a run with Eli about the same time I went up to shower—and the room is cold without him. I rinse off my wrist in his bathroom, determined to stop touching it.
The feeling of duct tape being wrapped around them comes back full force.
I thought I was knocked out.
It hits me hard enough to put me off balance. I grab the counter and stare at my reflection.
I should’ve kept Caleb’s phone when he offered it, seconds before he left. Part of me thought I’d be happy with the freedom, but it just serves to isolate me.
A hysterical giggle creeps up my throat. Didn’t I think that wasexactlywhat Caleb wanted to do to me before? Isolate me. Single me out.