Page 43 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

“Took him long enough.” Liam grins. “Guess Theo didn’t spoil the surprise.”

I shake my head. “He didn’t.”

“Right this way.” Liam turns and disappears into the darkness.

I glance at Eli. “A surprise? For me?”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

We follow Liam up the hill, to the shed at the back of the Blacks’ property. They used to keep a lawn mower in here, but now it just houses a few jet skis. Summer with the Blacks is never a dull moment.

We arrive just as Liam cracks the door, sliding it open wide enough for us to slip inside.

“We’re lucky the snow melted,” Eli whispers before we go in. “Or else my parents would question why we were up here.”

I grunt my agreement and enter ahead of him.

He closes the door behind us, and then the overhead light flickers on.

Theo stands in the center of the room, grinning like a fool.

“Best. Christmas. Present. Ever,” he says. “Just saying.”

I look around. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he answers. He steps to the side, revealing…

Ah, hell.

Matt is bound by his wrists and ankles, curled into a ball. Duct tape covers his mouth, and he jerks when he sees me.

“Come now, Matty, you didn’t think we weren’t bringing you to Caleb?” Liam says, approaching and crouching down. He grabs Matt’s jaw, tilting his head back. “What do you think, Caleb? Free hall pass.”

“How the hell—”

“Matt’s sister sure is a pretty one,” Liam says. He leans in close to Bonner’s face. “Sure would be a shame if something were to happen to her…”

Matt lunges, knocking Liam back with his bound arms.

Theo quickly hauls Matt away, holding him upright, and Liam laughs from the floor.

He climbs to his feet and shakes his head. “See? He knows not to talk.”

Eli shifts. “But don’t kill him. Not sure how I’ll explain that to my parents.”

I take a deep breath. “Remove the duct tape from his mouth.”

Theo rips it off in one smooth motion, and Matt jerks away. Theo gives him a little push into the center of the room.

“Are you going to answer our questions?” I ask.

He glares up at me. “Fuck you.”

I tilt my head. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are—”

“Were,” Eli corrects from my left.