Page 113 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

“Calm down,” I order. “Do you live with Amberly?”

“Yes, she came into town looking for a fix, and I couldn’t let that happen. It’s my fault she’s in this mess—my fault. I just wanted to get her clean.” Her voice cracks, and then her sobbing fills my ear.

I hate it.

Hate her.

And yet, I pity her.

“Mom… just breathe. What do you mean, it’s your fault?”

“She never should’ve got involved with my husband,” she says in a low voice, suddenly crystal clear.

“You’re obviously not in the right state, yourself,” I snap. “Stay put, okay? I’ll come get you.”

She tells me where she is, and I hang up.

Fuck.

No wonder she wouldn’t tell me where Amberly was when I asked. For a while, I was no better than her supplier. Giving her money was the easiest way to get her out of town. If I didn’t, she’d wash up closer to Rose Hill, each and every time. And eventually, closer to Margo.

I only found out Amberly knew where her daughter was when we were fourteen. Margo refused to give her anything—the brave, beautiful girl managed to stand up to her own mother. That was when I decided I had to be easy on her.

Move Margo one last time and make sure Amberly wouldn’t be able to find her. Give her enough to send her away—either out of town or on a nice, happy overdose.

Of course Mom has her.

Cleaned her up.

There’s some sort of leverage there, I just can’t see it yet.

I groan. I need a clean shirt, to brush my teeth, shoes. And to wake Eli up.

I wake him up first, calling him from where I stand.

“You know it’s not time for school, dickhead.”

“We have to run an errand,” I inform him. “Be ready to leave in fifteen.”

“Fuck.”

I hang up on him and go back downstairs. Margo has curled into a ball in the middle of my bed. I crawl across it and hover over her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.

She makes the sweetest noise, reaching up and sliding her hand into my hair.

I don’t usually tell her, but I love when her nails scratch my scalp. I press a kiss to her neck, moving up to her jaw, then just under her ear.

She turns her face, catching my lips with hers, and smiles. “That’s one way to say good morning,” she whispers. Her hand leaves my hair, trailing down… “Caleb, why are you already wearing jeans?”

I steal another kiss. “Because I have to go.”

“How much longer do I have?” she whispers.

“To sleep?” I glance at the clock. “Another few hours. Two.”

“Good,” she murmurs, rolling over and giving me her back.

I shake my head, grinning, and sweep the hair off her neck. I nip the shell of her ear, then whisper, “Dream of me.”