40. Margo
Chapter 40
Margo
O ur alarm goes off at six-thirty.
Caleb rolls over me, smacking the ‘off’ button, and blinks down at me.
He’s adorable when he’s sleepy.
I don’t dare tell him that, but I take a mental snapshot and file it away.
And then he shifts, and his erection brushes my leg. I stare at him, spreading my legs. It’s too early for chitchat, but it isn’t too early for this.
He looks over at the nightstand. I don’t know why he does—we both already know there aren’t any condoms left.
We woke up after a short nap and had sex. Then again, a little while later. That time, he stayed inside me until he got hard, and the whole thing repeated. We didn’t sleep for long. I went down on him, but that… that turned into him fucking my mouth.
“Just pull out,” I whisper.
He hesitates a split second, his gaze darting around my face, then slides into me.
We both groan.
It’s quick and dirty. He flicks my clit until I fall apart. Once my spasms start, he pounds into me with fervor. He stills for a split second, then jerks back and comes on my stomach.
I reach down and stroke him, eliciting a groan from him. His cum is hot liquid on my skin, and it smears between us when he drops down on top of me.
“You felt fucking amazing.” He kisses the hell out of me, his tongue invading my mouth.
We kiss until a pounding at the door interrupts us.
He scowls in that direction. To me, he says, “Get dressed.”
He tugs on a pair of shorts and closes the door behind him.
I pause for a second, then rush for my clothes. Underwear, leggings, sports bra, t-shirt. It’s all on in a matter of seconds, and I make sure my hair isn’t crazy before I step out. The strands of pearls were yanked out sometime during our second fuck. I twist my hair up into a high bun, frowning at my reflection.
After brushing my teeth, I walk into the living room.
Riley sits on the couch, biting her nail. “Oh my God, Margo! First, amazing room. Second, this is an emergency?—”
“Slow down,” I mumble.
“Where’s your phone?”
It was in the clutch. Where said clutch ended up, I don’t know. “I’d have to look around.”
She huffs, then whirls on Caleb. “I need to take her.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You can keep the room, Ri. I’ve got an errand to run anyway.” He comes over and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll check out, so don’t worry about it. Eli can give you a ride.”
“Okay.”
He grabs his bag and goes into the bathroom. When he reappears moments later, he’s fully dressed. Ugh. I need at least a half hour to get my act together. He leaves, and Riley follows me into the bedroom.
She immediately starts laughing. “Jesus.”
“What?”
“Smells like you had a lot of sex.”
“Gross. But… true.”
I collect my stuff, throwing it in my bag while Riley watches. I save the dress for last, smoothing it as I fold it over my arm. My fingers touch something that crinkles, and I suddenly remember the paper Claire had given me. I never even thought to mention it to Riley.
I pull it out and slip it into my leggings pocket, vowing to read it later.
Finally, I place the dress in my bag and zip it shut.
“Okay, I think that’s everything.”
“Except your phone.” She’s still gnawing at her finger.
“Did you try to reach me last night? Did something happen with you and Eli?”
“What? No. No, he’s waiting for us in the lobby.”
I shrug. “It was in the clutch with my ID. Maybe in the living room?”
We scour the place, and I finally find it under the dining table. How it got there, I’ll never know. I’m about to get my phone, but Riley lays her hand on top of mine.
“Stop,” she blurts out.
I stare at her. “You’re acting weird .”
She shifts. “Remember that picture that got emailed around?”
Oh no.
“Um… there was a video.”
Oh no.
I don’t tell her I know there’s a video. That would open up a whole different can of worms—particularly because, while she knew I got a strange text when I first started, I haven’t told her about any of the following texts.
“It’s bad,” Riley whispers. “It’ll be okay, though. I just… your phone might be blowing up, and I don’t want you to freak out. In fact, you should probably just turn it off.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
It’s more for myself, directed at who I now consider my stalker, than Riley.
What did I do to push them over the edge?
“Who got the video?”
She hesitates.
I have to physically stop myself from getting angry at her. She’s just being a good friend.
“Everyone,” she blurts out. “Like, the school. And someone posted it on social media. And?—”
I’m going to be sick.
The noises from that video—noises I made—play on repeat in my mind.
I rush to the bathroom, falling to my knees in front of the toilet. I throw up. The acid burns on my tongue, but my stomach doesn’t settle for a few long moments.
Finally, I’m able to straighten. Riley hands me a glass of water, giving me a sympathetic look.
“Don’t do that,” I plead. “Don’t pity me.”
She grabs my toothbrush and toothpaste from my bag, placing it on the counter. “I’m not trying to pity you, Margo. You know I love you. I just hate that this is happening. Again .”
I nod. “Yeah. I just?—”
“I’ve already reported the video. Eli did, too?—”
“He saw it?” I drop the toothpaste and cover my eyes. I don’t want to know how many people are watching me get finger-fucked by Caleb Asher. But if people I’m close with are seeing it? I can’t show my face. I can’t go back to Emery-Rose after that.
“He didn’t,” she says. “Once we realized what it was… No, we didn’t.”
I let out a shuddering breath.
She wraps her arms around me. “Let’s get you home. There’s no need to worry. The Bryans will probably let you take a few more days off, and the school board can get it removed…”
“Yeah.” I find myself nodding along with her plan. “Good idea.”
She smiles. “I’m full of good ideas.”
We leave, and I lift my hood, just in case there are more students in the lobby. I’m not ready to deal with anyone’s comments.
The backlash from the photo was bad, and the video will be even worse.
Eli’s truck is out front, and I practically dive into his backseat. He throws me a glance, eyebrows raised.
“You okay?” he asks.
I force myself to smile, although I think it’s more like a grimace. “Yes.”
I wonder if Caleb knows yet. I doubt he had a chance to check his phone before he ran out of the hotel room. He would’ve told me.
Right?
I spot Caleb’s car in the Bryans’ driveway as we come up the street.
“Keep going,” I tell Eli. Shock and dread twist through me.
He glances back at me. “What?—”
“Keep. Going.” I can’t breathe. I automatically expect the worst. I shouldn’t, because it’s Caleb . The man who reminded me that we were fake married, who reminded me that I loved him as a kid. Who…
Riley twists around. “Is that?—”
“Yes. Eli, drop me at the corner.”
He groans. “What are you planning?”
“Nothing.”
He pulls over, and I grab my bag, hopping out before they can advise against it.
“Keep your phone close, Riley. I’ll call you later.”
She nods, and I slam the door.
Eli drives away.
I cut through the neighbor’s lawn and creep into the Bryans’ backyard. I slip into the mudroom, holding the screen door to keep it from slamming. There’s another door that leads into the kitchen, but I’m betting Caleb might be in there.
Sure enough, as soon as I press my ear to the door, I can hear what they’re saying.
“We appreciate you trying to be candid, Caleb,” Robert says. “But you haven’t quite told us why you’re trying to warn us about Margo.”
“And forgive us for thinking so, but we thought you enjoyed Margo’s company,” Lenora adds.
Warn them about me?
My heart hammers.
“I’m sorry for not being direct,” Caleb says. “It’s just that… I thought her and I were it. And then earlier today, she put out a private video trying to destroy my credibility.”
I cover my mouth with both hands. He thinks I leaked that video? Like the picture, I’m sure he’s going to be lauded for it.
No—he said he had to go on an errand. He didn’t seem upset at all.
“So, this is revenge?” Robert asks.
“Not at all. Honestly, I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. This just proves that she isn’t the girl I thought she was.”
Silence.
“Your daughter…” Caleb pauses. “She died in a car accident, right?”
“That’s right,” Robert answers. His voice is faint.
“My aunt liked to gossip,” Caleb says. “She said the car accident was caused by a drug overdose.”
“We’ve never hid that fact,” Lenora says. “Our daughter was troubled. I’d like to think we can spot the warning signs. That’s why we foster teenagers, because sometimes they just need more guidance?—”
“Was it cocaine?”
I wish I could see the expression on Caleb’s face. If he regrets what he’s saying. But I’d bet his face is the picture of innocence, because that’s who he is: a good fucking liar.
“The fact of the matter is… your daughter’s death is Margo’s fault.”
My heart stops.
“What? How?” Lenora demands. “Margo would’ve been twelve when Isabella died?—”
“Margo was the cause of her mother’s drug use,” Caleb says.
Each word is a dagger in my heart.
“And because of her parents’ split, Amber Wolfe had no choice but to resort to selling drugs. Cocaine, specifically. She sold it to anyone who had cash. College kids, high schoolers. She preyed on innocent lives because Margo?—”
Lenora wails.
It’s a haunting sound. Chills break out across my body, and I really, really wish that I couldn’t hear it. I’d love nothing more than to scrub that noise from my brain.
“Margo’s mom was responsible for your daughter’s death, but everything circles back to your foster daughter,” Caleb finishes. “I thought you’d want to know who was sleeping in your home every night.”
I’ve heard enough.
I lift my bag and creep back outside. Hidden on the side of the porch, I pull out the newspaper clipping Claire had shoved at me.
The headline reads: Isabella Bryan in Fatal Car Crash
Late Saturday night, Isabella Bryan of Rose Hill, New York, was found in her flipped vehicle. Firefighters and EMTs pulled her out and brought her to a local hospital, but she was dead on arrival. Isabella has had problems with substance abuse, and doctors confirm that this was the cause of her accident. Her parents, Lenora and Robert Bryan, request privacy during this difficult time.
That’s it.
A paragraph and a picture of the three of them. Farther down, there’s one of just Robert and Lenora in a cemetery. My mother was the one who put them there.
They’re never going to want me back now, because what Caleb said has to be true: my mom sold drugs to a teenager, and that teenager died . What’re the odds that I’m placed with their family?
It’s a sucker punch straight to my gut.
I hoist my bag higher and run through the neighbor’s backyard. I don’t have anywhere to go, but I sure as hell don’t want them to find me snooping around their yard.
Not after that.
I get to the corner and grab my phone. It’s the first time I’ve looked at it since before the dance.
Riley was right: it’s blowing up. There are too many numbers texting me crude things.
I’m too far into shock to consider crying.
Caleb just…
My heart isn’t working right.
I sink to my knees at the curb as his words replay.
It hurts like a knife burrowing into my chest. I can’t stop it. I can’t fight him.
Let’s play a game , he told me. First to give in loses .
I lost, Caleb . My heart folded first. I thought it might be the kiss, but that… that was just the beginning.
I find a text from Claire from the middle of the night.
Claire
Call me.
And when I didn’t respond, she sent another.
I realized where I recognized Caleb from. He was talking to our foster parents before they got rid of us.
I shudder. The betrayal digs deeper. This isn’t a new thing for Caleb… he’s done this before. He’s unwound my life, piece by piece.
Has Caleb ever let me out of his memory? Or is he responsible for every single transition, every bully, every fucking family that’s passed me along?
His fucked-up games didn’t start when I got back to Emery-Rose.
No, they started the minute I left.
I get a new text—this one from Unknown. I almost drop my phone. Even they couldn’t have predicted Caleb’s tricks. His betrayal. He’s single-handedly ruined the best home I’ve ever known.
Unknown
Run away, drug princess.
Way ahead of you, Unknown.
TO BE CONTINUED