6. Margo
Chapter 6
Margo
Past
C aleb and I were playing hide and seek, which required me to be extra quiet. I tiptoed through the house, planning on balling up under the sink in the kitchen. It would take him forever to find me, and I’d be victorious.
We weren’t supposed to be here, though. Lydia— Mrs. Asher —had taken us to the park, but she dropped us off about an hour ago and told us to play in Caleb’s room until she got back. There were only so many things we could do in his room, and he was sick of me touching his Legos. The puzzles were built. I wasn’t allowed to play his violent video games, so that was out.
We were used to being let loose, and eventually, Caleb caved.
My dad was working, his mom was out. We could hear his dad downstairs, which should’ve been reason enough to stay locked up.
Caleb and I had experienced an odd thrill of imminent capture when his dad got home. He wouldn’t just yell at us—he’d probably scream his voice hoarse at Caleb’s mom, too. Leaving two ten-year-olds unattended? Not wise. But hide and seek was an excellent game. It got us out of the room, and there was a bonus of sneaking around Caleb’s dad. It was meant for devious kids like us.
And yeah, it may have been my idea.
There was an odd thumping noise coming from the kitchen.
I pressed myself to the wall and tiptoed closer, more driven by curiosity than anything.
Upstairs, Caleb was probably counting as quietly as possible. I counted in my head, keeping track of my time. That’s how you were supposed to do it when being stealthy.
“Fuck, Amber,” a voice growled.
My whole body got icy.
I stopped just before the doorway and poked my head around the corner.
My mother and Caleb’s dad were in the kitchen. She sat on the counter, her bare legs wrapped around Caleb’s dad’s hips. It was the same counter she cooked on. But she was moaning like she was in pain. Her mouth was open. Eyes closed.
His hand was tangled in her hair, keeping her head back.
His ass flexed as he moved, and horror filtered through me.
I knew about sex. We’d learned about it in health class just a few weeks ago. All the kids had laughed and shrieked their way through the birds and bees discussion.
But I didn’t think it would be like this . Caleb’s dad was still wearing his pants. Barely. They clung to his upper thighs. That wasn’t the disturbing part—besides seeing his hairy ass, ew . No—it was that the words coming out of his mouth were vicious.
He called her dirty, even as he kissed her neck.
Mom was cheating on Dad?
I knew what that was, too. We had learned about it from Savannah. Her dad had a shiny new girlfriend who sometimes picked her up from school. Sav said her dad called the girlfriend the newer model—whatever that meant.
That’s not this.
This is something worse.
They’re doing something bad . Worse than picking up someone else’s kid from school.
Dad would be heartbroken if he saw them. But before I could let out a shout, a hand wrapped around my mouth and dragged me backward. I kicked, then realized it was Caleb. He pushed me into the pantry, closing the door behind him with a soft snick .
“What are you doing?” I needed to scrub my eyes out with soap. I was shaking.
“You can’t tell,” Caleb said.
That wasn’t what I expected.
“Please, Margo, you can’t tell them.” He was desperate. Reeked of it. He came at me and grabbed my wrists. His thumb caressed my bracelet, as if to remind me that it was there. “That won’t be us. Okay? But it’s them, and doing whatever you’re about to do will just make everything worse.”
“Caleb, Mom is cheating on my dad—” I took a step back, shaking him loose. “You knew?”
Slowly, he nodded.
“Cheating is wrong,” I said. Decisive.
Dad always talked about morals. Morality. It was such a hard thing to wrap my brain around, but he made it easy. Right and wrong. Stick up for the truth.
This… this was a lie. Plain and simple.
I shoved past Caleb and into the hall, where Mom was standing. She was dressed, luckily. Her hands were on her hair, pulling it up, but they slowly dropped when she saw me.
I swallowed.
Her pants were still unbuttoned.
“Margo!”
I turned and fled. Up the stairs, down the hall to Caleb’s room. Caleb chased after me, and once we were inside he slammed the door, flipping the lock.
The doorknob rattled, then Mom pounded on the door. “Margo Wolfe, open up right now.”
Caleb stared at me. “You’re not going to tell, right?”
The door flew open. Caleb’s dad straightened, triumphant, but my mom shoved past him.
She grabbed my shoulders, shaking me slightly. “You don’t know what you saw, Margo. It was nothing.”
Her voice was angrier than I’d ever heard it.
I shook my head. “But, Mom?—”
“No buts. Please, Margo.” She put her face right in mine. “If he found out, it would ruin everything. And nothing even happened. It just looked bad. Do you want to be responsible for ruining it all?”
It looked like sex, but what did I know? I’d never seen it before.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders. Caleb’s dad stared at me. Caleb was breathing heavily behind me, the entire room waiting on my answer.
“I won’t tell,” I promised.
I promised .
Present
“All of your memories?”
I shift. “I remember catching my mom and your dad. Running to your room. We were playing hide and seek.”
All I want to do is throw myself into his arms. He found me. Took me to the hospital. Detective Masters arrested him.
And yet, I’m grappling with this truth he kept from me.
Two, actually. He never mentioned that my dad allegedly killed his. I can see why he thinks that, now knowing what I do.
“Your mom said it was nothing,” he says.
“She was trying to minimize it. I know that now. And you—” I break off. My head hurts. I’m under concussion protocol, which should mean limiting my physical activity. And this conversation feels like a physical altercation.
What did Caleb say the first time we went into his house?
One day I’m going to fuck you on this counter . And then he did. Mirroring our parents’ fuck-up. Making me role-play some sick and twisted game when he knew I didn’t remember.
He did, and he didn’t have any regrets. He took my virginity like that.
“I never claimed to be the nice guy.” He comes closer and reaches for me. “If you’re remembering that day in the kitchen…”
“I hate you for putting me in that position. For doing that to me… there .”
The image is burned behind my eyelids. My mom and his dad. Even if I convinced myself at the time that maybe it wasn’t what I thought, I now know I was right. They were fucking . Cheating. He was degrading her, but I think she liked it.
“Margo, there are dark memories all over that house. How are we ever going to move on if we don’t erase them?”
I push at his chest. That’s a cop-out. The worst excuse I’ve heard.
I’ve been so stupid . I thought the truth was going to release me. But it turns out, it’s just another shackle. The truth is that he asked me not to tell, but I did. And everything fell apart because of me.
Caleb was right to be angry with me.
He tugs on my wrists. I fall into him, unable to stop myself.
“I wasn’t the one to block away my memories, baby. I’ve had to live with this for years all alone.” His lips touch the top of my head. “I’m not sorry for our beginning. But I am sorry for not keeping you safe.”
My emotions are on a pendulum swing.
I slip away from him and go to the window. My room is a wreck—the first thing I did when I got home was yank it apart, and now I feel like I’m bleeding from every seam. All the while, his gaze follows me. His eyes see too much.
“You found me,” I say softly. “How?”
He’s suddenly behind me. His hand lands on mine, stopping it. I had been scratching at my wrist again.
“I need you to touch me,” he says softly.
I turn slowly. Touch him?
Do either of us deserve that?
“It feels like you’re not really here,” he whispers. “I’m going to wake up in bed and you’ll still be missing.”
My chest aches.
I raise my hand. One touch won’t kill us.
“Caleb!” someone calls from downstairs.
I’m about to drop my hand when Caleb snags it, holding it to his cheek. We both exhale.
“Margo? Come down, please.”
I tilt my head. “Ms. McCaw is here?”
Caleb shrugs. “No idea. She wasn’t when we got here.”
The story of how Caleb found me will have to wait. I pull away and grab a sweatshirt, carefully zipping it up and heading downstairs.
Before we left the hospital this afternoon, I got to see Robert. He was intubated and sedated in ICU, and I couldn’t get close, but seeing him through a window was enough. He looked beat up and scary, but the nurses assured me he was in good hands.
Me, on the other hand? Lenora kept worrying the entire way back. She asked me how I was feeling, if I needed anything special at the house.
If you know who took you and you’re scared to tell the police… you can tell me.
I didn’t. I promised her I didn’t know.
Three days in the hospital. The detective visited me twice, asking much the same questions. But apparently, they can’t just take witness testimony as fact. There has to be evidence . And so far… nothing.
No fingerprints on the tape, no CCTV footage on that intersection. No idea about whose car hit ours.
The detective is eager for me to admit Caleb took me. It’s odd that the detective has such disdain for him… and such bias. But who am I to know? All I can keep repeating is Caleb’s innocence.
Lenora, Ms. McCaw, and Eli’s dad—who I’ve only met once—are seated at the kitchen table when Caleb and I come down.
Ms. McCaw meets us halfway and puts her finger under my chin, lifting my head and inspecting the bandage. “How do you feel?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. As good as can be expected, I guess.”
“Let’s sit,” she suggests.
I wonder if this is the part where they tell me the accident was too much—that I can’t stay. I’ll get a few minutes to pack my bag. At least Caleb will be here to say goodbye. Again .
“Originally, Riley and her dad were going to stay here.” Lenora’s eyes are puffy from crying. She stretches her arm across the table, taking my hand. “But they’re not approved by the county for any sort of fostering. Including respite. We all thought it wasn’t going to be a problem, but…”
But it is. Respite is temporary housing. Also known as a foster kid’s nightmare. It’s a house you don’t know, with rules you’re unaware of or unfamiliar with, and strangers trying to boss you around. For a day, a week. However long your long-term place is unable to have you. Be that vacation or sickness…
Ms. McCaw takes over. “That wasn’t a possibility, unfortunately. However, the Blacks have been approved to take in fosters.”
My gaze shoots over to Eli’s dad.
“You can stay with us until Robert is out of the hospital,” he says.
Lenora squeezes my hand. “Does that make me a bad mother? Wanting to stay with him?”
I shake my head. “No, of course not.”
“Is that allowed?” Caleb asks. “The detective?—”
“That’s why we wanted to sit down and discuss it,” Ms. McCaw says. “Yes, you’re a person of interest in the case, but everyone here believes that you didn’t have a hand in it.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Lenora? You believe me?”
She hadn’t… “If you say he didn’t do it, then yes. I believe you.”
Caleb scoffs.
Mr. Black rises. “Gather some things, Margo, if you would. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
What a whirlwind. Like so many other things in my life, this is happening almost too fast to comprehend.
Accident. Kidnapped. Hospital. Home. And now—Caleb’s home.
I shove clothes into a bag. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so I take only a few items. My school uniform. Toiletries from the bathroom.
Caleb is in my room when I return, sitting on my bed again.
He frowns. “You’re crying.”
I swipe at my cheeks. They’re wet. “I don’t know why.”
And yet, it keeps building. The sadness.
“Mom told me not to tell.” I stare down at my boots. “I promised.”
“I know.”
“I have a history of not keeping my promises, Caleb. How can you believe anything that comes out of my mouth?”
He may be a liar, but so am I.
I was the original.
“I know you,” he says. “Okay? I know you . And some promises you won’t break.” He reaches out and snags my wrist, pulling me closer. Between his legs.
“Why can’t we go back to normal?” I ask.
He laughs. His thumb brushes my cheek. “Normal? What’s that?”
I giggle—and then abruptly stop. I laughed . Robert is in the hospital and I laughed. And?—
“Stop.”
His gaze is dark. I could run from it, but what’s the use? He’d just find me again.
I back away from him and grab my bag. It’s an improvement from the garbage bags I’ve had to use in the past. This one is thicker canvas. It won’t break on me.
An omen if I’ve ever heard one .
And then… I leave him there. Sitting in my room, staring at me like I’m still his salvation.
I’m not. I’m so not.
I’m dirty . Just as dark as him. Maybe worse. Because I remember the start of my awful betrayal, and I know what came next: I told someone.
I betrayed my mother.
No wonder she hates me so much.
It’s in my blood. It’s in my history. What if I do that to Caleb? What if the next time the detective asks, I lie and say he did take me?
Would I do that to him?