37. Margo
Chapter 37
Margo
Past
I fidgeted by the sink. Dad was at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper, but he kept glancing at me. It was rare that he wasn’t working in the middle of the afternoon. Nice, too. I crept back home. The door to Mr. Asher’s office was closed when I passed it, and Mom’s car was gone.
“You seem off, kiddo,” Dad said. “Everything okay?”
After Mom left me in Caleb’s room, Mr. Asher had rounded on me and demanded to know what I saw. I tentatively told him all of it.
And Caleb hadn’t been surprised. That was the worst part. He had a dead look in his eye while I spoke, and after…
He had come alive, grabbing my shoulders the same way Mom had. Please don’t say anything. It’ll ruin everything .
I shook my head, and then I remembered Mom’s plea.
“All good,” I managed.
He set down the paper and twisted toward me. “The truth, now?”
The gate opening drew my attention. Mom nudged it closed with her foot, her arms full of brown paper bags. Any minute now, she was going to walk in and see my expression.
The look that was one hundred percent guilt.
Dad saw it. A flash of fear.
“You saw them?” he asked in a low voice.
I jerked toward him. “I d-didn’t mean to.”
Mom came in and stopped short. Her gaze went from my face to Dad’s. “Margo, what did you do?”
Dad stood. “Amber.”
The bags fell from Mom’s hands in slow motion, but the way she moved wasn’t slow at all. She was suddenly in front of me, her hand on my chin. She forced my head up, until I met her eyes.
“Tell me what you said.”
Tears filled my eyes, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t say anything. I was going to keep her secret.
“Margo!” she screamed. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, and she shook me. Violently. My head snapped back. She yanked me toward her and away, movements brutal and jerky. “What did you do?”
For a second, everything was still and quiet. Her voice rang in my ears.
And then Dad was there, prying her away from me.
I fell backward. My head hit the edge of the table, and white spots exploded like fireworks in front of my vision. My head throbbed, pain radiating over my skull. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I saw Mom looming above me.
Dad shoved her—the first act of violence I’d ever seen from him—and lifted me into his arms. He carried me down the hall, into my room, and set me on the bed.
In the other room, Mom was screaming. She must’ve been throwing things, because the sound of breaking glass came through the doorway.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “Please, Margo.”
I touched the back of my head. My fingers came away wet with blood, and I burst into tears.
There was so much yelling.
I ran to my door—to escape, to take the blame—but the knob wouldn’t turn.
“ You ruined everything! ” Mom screamed.
I flinched away from the door.
“I ruined everything?” Dad yelled back. “You cannot seriously be pinning this on me, Amber.”
“Like hell I can’t. I had a plan! A way out of this godforsaken home !”
Crash . Then… silence.
“Daddy!” I screamed, beating at the door.
No one came for me. I beat and scratched at the door, kicked it, slammed my body against it. It didn’t budge.
I backed away, then looked down at my hands. They were covered in blood. Then the pain came, edging through the numbness.
I had kept her secret, but Dad knew . He knew, and she blamed me.
“Mom,” I moaned and sank to my knees. “I didn’t tell.”
Ages later, the door swung open. Dad came in and knelt in front of me, picking up my hands. He inspected the damage.
His whole face was eons of sadness.
“Want to go somewhere happy?” He scooped me up. “Let’s clean your hands off.”
He carried me into the bathroom and gently cleaned my hands, wincing for me at the shredded nails. They stung under the warm, soapy water, but I didn’t say anything.
I didn’t ask where Mom was.
Or where they both had been.
“Up you go,” he said.
I was in his arms again, hugging him like an octopus. He carried me to the car, and then we went to the park. I didn’t see Mom, or anyone else. Not until the detective and social worker showed up.
Present
“I didn’t do it,” I finish lamely. I’m back to inspecting my nails, like I’d be able to see a trace of the past in them.
He’s been staring at me while I relayed what I remember, but now…
“God,” he chokes out.
This is where he says it was only revenge, and now that the need for it is suddenly gone…
I lick my lips, imagining I can still taste his goodbye kiss on my lips. We could’ve died. He could’ve died. That was where things were heading. After all, Claire was disintegrating before our eyes.
How long would it have taken for Caleb to bleed out if she’d shot him?
“Stop,” he orders.
I blink at him.
“Your thoughts are turning bleak, baby.”
Josh has been listening in silence, but now he says, “We’re coming up on it now.”
I lean toward the window. “This feels… familiar.”
Caleb smirks. “Because we came here when we got our masks.”
“You left me in the lobby.”
His smirk widens into a grin. “Yep.”
Josh shakes his head.
We park in a garage, circling down until we get to an empty row of spaces. One of the spots has a placard engraved with, Josh Black, Esq .
“Fancy,” I say.
“Beats hunting for a spot,” he answers.
We all pile out and into the elevator.
“What did you come here for before?” I ask.
“Any time David wants to make big changes, Caleb signs off on them,” Josh answers. “While it first appeared that David had full control over Caleb’s assets, there were strict rules implemented to keep everyone honest. It requires continual upkeep.”
“Until now,” Caleb mutters.
His firm is a lot like Tobias’s. On a high floor, with huge windows letting light stream into offices and the bullpen. No one is around at this time of evening. The sun has set, casting everything in a twilight-blue hue.
He flips on the light, and we head to his office.
I sit on the couch, pulling my legs up so I can wrap my arms around them. Josh goes to his filing system, locating a thick envelope. Caleb and him go to the desk, and they both pore over it.
Finally, Caleb taps a paragraph. “I knew it!”
I sit up straighter. “What?”
He grins at me. “If Uncle is arrested, all assets immediately revert back to me.”
I bolt to my feet. “You?—”
Josh shakes his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice this sooner, or even remember?—”
“Caleb!”
They both jerk toward me.
“Your dad had to know that David was Hanna’s father, and that he was a monster. You…” My features soften. “You could’ve taken power back from your uncle all along.”
His face falls, and his gaze goes back to the will. At the bottom of the page is his dad’s signature, the looping B and spiked A .
He makes a call.
Josh and I trade a confused glance.
“Detective,” Caleb says.
My eyebrows hike up.
He’s willingly calling Detective Masters?
“I’ll do whatever has to be done.”
Ah, hell. I sink back onto the couch, dropping my head in my hands. Caleb’s slowly turning into the good guy, willing to do anything to set things right. Why does that make me think our troubles aren’t over?