Page 110 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

Amelie turns and faces me. “This is a lot for you to take in.”

Her eyes are hard. She’s colder than I’ve seen directed at me—although I’ve seen her savagery directed at other underclassmen plenty of times in the past year.

“What are you saying?” I glance behind me, but we’ve been swallowed by so-called sympathetic well-wishers.

“I’m saying it’s okay that you need a break from cheerleading,” she says slowly. “Clearly you won’t be able to be as cheerful as we need you to be.”

Wow.

I laugh. “Great, thanks for freeing me from the pits of hell.”

Someone gasps.

Amelie straightens. “Thank Eli for this little party. He thought you’d appreciate it.”

Another barb.

Now Eli breaks through the crowd, coming to my side.

I knock his hand away before he can touch me again.

This goes well beyond what we agreed on. Bringing my family into this?

How many times had I laid on his bed and lamented about Mom’s treatments, how scared we had been for the past year?

He knows my secrets and he wields them like a weapon.

It hurts worse than I could’ve guessed. Hot pricks, like being stabbed with flaming needles, hit my skin. My stomach, my throat.

There’s a suffocating weight sitting on my chest.

So I do the only thing left: I run.

27

Riley

Eli doesn’t question me as we speed toward my house. I grip my phone in one hand and the handle of the door in my other.

I texted Dad two minutes ago.

I called Mom, but she didn’t answer.

“Drive faster,” I demand.

“Is she okay? Did something happen with her cancer—”

“No,” I snap.

Even now, almost eighteen months after the orchestrated ‘funeral’ party, I can’t voice it. That my mom might actually be suicidal.

I should’ve seen this coming.

Why didn’t I?

Eli whips into a turn onto my street, and the truck skids on the pavement. It rolls to a stop, and I spring out of the vehicle. I sprint up the porch and blast through the door.

It’s eerily quiet.