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Page 124 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

Robert and Lenora weren’t exactly approving of me whisking Margo off, but they softened when she said where we were going. And they don’t know the half of it… but they’re doing their best.

When Eli and I had arrived mid-afternoon, a cleaning team was dealing with Margo’s room. She and Robert were both dozing on the couch, mirror images of each other on different sides of the couch.

She nods, stepping away from me. And then she comes rushing right back, hands wrapping around my neck. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach my lips, but her kiss is forceful. Aggressive and… short-lived.

I pause as she pulls away, and she grimaces at me.

“That’s for trying to run.” She watches my mouth.

I lick my lips, surprised to taste blood.

“You bit me.”

She just grins.

“Little wolf.” I smile. “Thanks.”

She just lifts one shoulder. Her smile falls pretty fast once we’re in the car. She stares straight ahead, and I take a moment to realize…

“Oh fuck. Is it because it’s snowing?”

She nods.

“We’ll be okay,” I promise her.

“You shouldn’t even be driving.” She closes her eyes. “God, Unknown could’ve followed us here—”

“It’s like lightning striking the same spot twice.” I reach over and take her hand. “Improbable.”

“You didn’t say impossible,” she whispers. She clutches my fingers like I’m a lifeline. “Okay, okay. Let’s just go before it gets worse.”

We’re the last car out of the parking lot, and the road is deserted.

I drive more carefully than I’ve ever driven in my life. I check each intersection three times, barely make the speed limit… and the entire way, Margo just holds on to my hand. Her eyes are closed, and she looks pale.

My tongue touches my lower lip again. I’m still shocked that she bit me and I didn’t even feel it until after. It feels bruised now.

Bruised like my mind was after I relived walking in to find my dad’s body. And here I go again, about to replay it in my mind for the thousandth time—although this time, maybe I’ll remember something new.

Something to exonerate Margo’s dad.

Past

Mom and I walked into a silent house.

She muttered something and dropped her purse on the side table, striding away from me.

Dad should’ve been home. There was always a hustle and bustle in our home—whether it be Amberly in the kitchen or Dad in his study, on the phone, or playing music to cover up the sounds of Amberly’s…

We heard that exactly once before Mom put an end to it.

I checked the kitchen, but it was empty. Mom appeared in the doorway of Dad’s study, shaking her head. So he wasn’t in there, either.

“Did he go out?” she asked herself. She met my gaze. “Honey, go upstairs.”

“But Margo—”

“Keith’s car is gone,” she said. “And so is Amberly’s. I doubt she’s home.”




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