by S. Massery
“Easy,” he murmurs. “You going to kill me, Margo?”
I can’t even fucking speak. I open my mouth, but no words come out. I’m being strangled by panic, my heart racing too fast. I keep tugging on my wrist, over and over. That and the knife. The sharpness of it indenting his skin but not cutting. He has more self-control than Matt. He hasn’t moved or flinched.
Little broken boy isn’t afraid of pain.
That thought comes out of nowhere. Someone said that to me, once. Or… around me.
I gasp, the sob breaking past my barriers. “Let—go—”
He does.
I pull my arm back to my chest, cradling it between us. I still can’t breathe. I thought it might help, but he’s still here, the knife is still in my hand, and a thousand pounds sit on my chest.
“Panic attack,” I manage.
His fingers curl around the knife, moving it away from his throat. Slowly, his weight lifts off me, and then I’m in the air, curling into a ball in his arms.
“You’re okay,” he says in my ear. “Safe.”
I laugh. “No such thing.”
He carries me to a door next to the gate.
“How did you get in?”
“I jumped the fence,” he says. “But it’s easier to leave when the lock is on our side.” He’s quiet for a moment. Riley’s car is gone—he must’ve sent her away—and his car is in its place. “You’re trembling.”
“It’s cold,” I lie.
I’m freaked out. Not just because of Caleb, but the figurine in my pocket, Matt’s supposed alibi, and whatever’s at the diner.
If I ask, he might tell me. Or… he might lie, too.
Our relationship hasn’t been the most honest thing on the planet.
He tucks me in the passenger seat and quickly circles the car. Once he’s in, he cranks the heat. I lean forward, pressing my hands to the vents, and sigh. A jacket would’ve been good in hindsight, but I didn’t want my movements inhibited.
We get all the way back to Eli’s house before either of us speak. I have nothing to say, but Caleb… he’s building up to something. Whether out of anger or concern, his annoyance fizzes and crackles around him. Nearly impenetrable.
“Did you learn anything?”
I glance at him.
He reaches over and pulls my hair tie out, letting my dark hair fall in waves around my shoulders. He lifts a chunk, twirling it in his fingers. “Did you seduce him?”
I squirm away. “I threatened him.”
“With this?” He holds up the knife and examines it in the dim light. He flicks on the car’s light and frowns. “When did he give you this?”
“After you tried to beat up Matt.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t try to beat him up, love.”
“But you did try to get information,” I point out. “And that…”
“Was unsuccessful, for the most part,” he admits. “All I’ve learned is that he’s afraid of someone.”
“He said they were going to kill him.” I take the knife back, sliding it into my pocket. “Who would kill a high schooler?”
“Who would abduct one?”
Fair point.
“His alibi was his girlfriend,” I say. “She lied for him.”
He hums. His eyes turn on me. “Would you lie for me?”
“Probably.”
He smiles, and I smile back. Dumbly. Like I’m just another girl fawning over his looks. But his smile does something to me.
And then… his smile fades. “How long have you been having panic attacks?”
“Two in the last… twelve hours? Probably not a good sign.”
“It was me holding your wrist?” He reaches over and touches the scab. “I’m such an idiot. I didn’t…” He laughs, but it’s more at himself than anything. “I should’ve known. I found you—”
“Vulnerable,” I fill in.
He meets my gaze. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone more than I wanted to hurt who did this to you. But your wrists aren’t bound now. You went in there and—fuck, I wish I could’ve seen it.”
I smile. “You wish you could’ve seen my crazy eyes?”
“I want all of you. Crazy, sane, sad, happy… lost.”
I lean over and touch his face. He lets me cup his jaw, slide my hand back into his hair, down to the raised scar at the back of his head. Lower, to his neck. I pull him toward me.
He obliges, pressing a kiss to my lips.
But that’s not enough.
I run my tongue along the seam of his lips, demanding entrance. He lets me. Everything in this moment is about my control. I recognize that in the back of my mind. His hands don’t stray, but mine does. It roams down his chest and back up, scraping lightly.
The kiss gets deeper. It sucks us in, and in no time, we’re panting into each other’s mouths.
I break away first, leaning back into my own seat. I tip my head back and close my eyes.
“I missed you,” I admit. “You felt… distant.”
“I was.”
My eye cracks open to glare at him.
He frowns. “I don’t know how to handle you. How to save you when your edges are cracked.”
“I’m not a porcelain doll, Caleb. Breaking and healing are part of life.”
Jagged edges and all.
He gets out of the car and comes to my door. I don’t protest when he leans down and scoops me up. I loop my arm around his shoulders. With one finger, I turn his face toward me and steal another kiss.
It’s soothing. A balm for the soul.
“You don’t have to carry me in,” I mutter. I can’t imagine the questions Norah and Josh will have for us. For me. Then again… it’s the middle of the night. Maybe they slept through two of the three teenagers in their house sneaking out.
He scoffs. “I definitely have to.”
We make it over the threshold, the door closing softly behind us. Only a few more feet to go—to Caleb’s stairs—to safety.
But the light flips on. Both Josh and Norah are in the doorway to the living room, staring at us. His arm is around her shoulders, holding her close, and…
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
Josh just shakes his head, his attention over my head. On Caleb. “I expected better.”
Caleb shrugs.
“Put her down,” Norah says. “I’m sure she can walk to her room.”
Caleb doesn’t move a muscle. “She had a panic attack.”
“Outside?”
“I went for a walk,” I lie. “I couldn’t sleep, and I thought it might help. But it just… wasn’t a good idea. I’m sorry. Caleb came and rescued me.”
His fingers tighten on my thigh and shoulder.
“Is that right?” Norah asks Caleb.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She grunts. “Next time, let us know.”
They both head back upstairs, and we exhale at the same time.
“That’s enough adventure for one day,” he says. “Got it?”
I wriggle, but he still doesn’t put me down. He carries me upstairs, into my bedroom, and sets me on the bed.
He presses a kiss to my forehead before he goes. But then… he goes.
That part is inevitable, I guess.
Once my door is closed, I pull out the figurine. Part of me wonders if it’ll still be transmitting.
I point the mermaid face at me and take a deep breath. “If you can hear me… I’m going to find you.”
17
Unknown
You’ve gotten bolder, Margo. It makes me wonder: is this Caleb’s fault? Or a stable home environment? Has courage given you a new pair of wings?
But you’re forgetting about the cage. The thing that traps you. Holds you hostage.
I’m impressed that you managed to get to Matt. That you made him talk when Caleb couldn’t.
Oh, how I wish I could’ve seen them fight. The way Matt came back, broken nose and battered ego, was thrilling.
Things are frayin
g at the seams. Nothing is as it appears.
I guess that leaves the question: Will you find me? Will you succeed? There’s so much more to us than you know.
We’re in this together, Margo, to the bloody end.
And I think the end will most certainly be… exciting.
Will you tell me when you’ve had enough? When I can finally stop messing around and just show you what I’ve learned?
Evil doesn’t always wear a devil’s mask.
Even good people have a dark streak.
And anyone can break.
So just know this: I’m coming for you. And Caleb. And anyone you’ve ever fucking cared about. This started a long time ago.
Beat your wings against the bars, pretty little bird. It won’t make any difference in the end.
18
Caleb
The last class of the day used to be my happy place. Painting, Margo, and hell, even Mr. Jenkins made the day seem lighter.
Now it’s cold and empty, and I skip it more often than not. I swing by the room, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. It’s been four days since I caught Margo at Matt’s house. Four days since Robert’s emergency surgery.
Monday is cold and bleak.
There’s a fresh coat of snow on the ground, giving the world a black-and-white quality.
But there’s still a substitute teacher at the front of the class, and I know Margo isn’t back yet. She’s been hiding out at the house or visiting Robert with Lenora. Whether she’s hiding because she’s scared or for some other reason, I can’t say.
The weekend had passed quickly. We made popcorn and watched movies. Riley and Eli even joined us, breaking Riley’s avoidance streak.
Honestly, that was more to do with Margo than Eli. Eli and Riley barely looked at each other, even though they were in the same room.
Note to self: find out what the fuck is going on with them.
I head to the parking lot. Liam, Theo, Eli, and I have somewhere to be. They’re all gathered between Theo and my cars, laughing about something.
But first things first…
Eli spots me before the others. “Hey, man, we were just discussing—”
I storm up to Liam and grab him by the throat, throwing him back against my car. He bounces off of it and shoves me backward, more than happy for a fight.
“What the fuck did I tell you about Margo?” I snarl.
He laughs.
Laughs.
“To keep your hands to yourself.” I push him, more than ready to punch his lights out.
“She was going to do something stupid anyway,” he says. “I just gave her something to make her feel safer.”
“Something stupid involved going to Matt’s house and threatening him.” I go for him again, but Theo gets in the way.
Liam’s eyes go wide. “No shit?”
“She could’ve been hurt—”
Theo walks me backward. “Calm. Down.”
“He deserves to be punched in the fucking face—”
He rolls his eyes. “What else is new? Just because he deserves it doesn’t mean you should do it.”
Liam laughs. “Listen to Mommy, Caleb.”
I shoot past Theo, but Eli steps in front of him.
“He’s being a dick because you are,” Eli says in an even tone. “So just cool it, would you?”
“Me? He—”
“Was trying to help,” Eli answers. His eyes narrow. “Are you trying to sabotage this before we even start?”
I groan. “No.”
“Right-o. Everyone, in the truck.” He claps, grinning. Back to his usual self in a matter of seconds.
Theo and Eli head for the truck, leaving Liam and I to regard each other. I could just do it. Fucking punch him in the face and be done with it.
But… maybe Eli is right. That he was just trying to help Margo. Not necessarily put ideas in her head.
I extend my hand.
Liam watches me for a beat, then shakes it.
“Now what?” he asks.
“Now…” I shrug. “We find out where a seventeen-year-old got a vehicle to hit Robert and Margo.” I assume it wasn’t registered to anyone connected to him, otherwise he would’ve been arrested—or at the very least, questioned as much as I was.
He grins. It’s a bit grim, but it suits his personality. “Let’s go, then.”
19
Margo
“This is foolish,” Riley says for the tenth time.
I roll my eyes. “Why did Matt tell him to go here? Why was Unknown downloading videos here in the first place? Why—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” She kills the engine, and we sit in silence. “It looks shitty.”
The diner across the street is… not someplace I would expect Caleb and Matt to go. The sign’s lights flicker on, even though it’s the middle of the afternoon.
Riley graciously decided to cut class in order to accompany me on this adventure, but from the expression on her face, she’s regretting it.
“Lucky’s Diner,” I read. “I just… expected something fancier.”
“Who do you think is in there?” she asks. “Are we going in as like, ‘Oh, just coming in for a meal, don’t pay us any mind!’”
I laugh. “You’d make a horrible spy.”
She flips her hair. I have a flashback to Amelie and Savannah doing similar moves, but I shove it out of my head.
“You know what’s horrible?” she asks. “That you’re graduating in a semester and I’m going to be stuck there for another year.”
“Yeah, that does suck. But I’ll probably still be around. Maybe I’ll get a job as the school janitor’s assistant. Then you’ll still see me every day.”
She snorts. “You’re ridiculous. You’re going to college, remember?”
I shrug. If I wanted to go, I’d have to apply.
And then get accepted.
And then come up with the money for tuition.
“Robert comes home tomorrow,” I say. “Today’s my last day to figure this out.”
She groans. “Okay, fine. Let’s go into Lucky’s Diner—which, for the record, looks pretty damn unlucky.”
We’re the only car front and center in the parking lot. There are a few parked in the back corner, but those are probably employees. In the few minutes we’ve sat here, no one has come in or out.
“Okay. Yeah.” I unbuckle and climb out.
Riley follows suit, and together, we walk toward the diner.
The back of my neck prickles, and I pause, glancing behind me.
“Catch up, tomato,” Riley calls.
I wrinkle my nose, scanning the area.
Nothing except for a deserted lot.
“‘Catch up, tomato?’”
“Like ketchup?” She elbows me. “Dad used to say that to me all the time.”
I shake my head. “Absurd.”
“Gladly so.”
I let her go through the door ahead of me, hesitating before I enter. The niggling feeling of someone watching me hasn’t gone away. I look behind me one last time.
“Paranoia,” I say on an exhale. I’m glad I don’t see anyone. I don’t need any dark figures lurking around corners, waiting for me to misstep.
“Welcome to Lucky’s,” the hostess says.
That voice.
I slowly turn back around, pushing past Riley.
Lydia Asher… in the flesh.
Her mouth drops open. “Margo.”
First thought? Horror.
Second thought? Nausea.
I guess those two kind of go hand in hand. And if we weren’t here for answers, well, I’d be out the door before she could say another word. Instead of running, I lock my muscles and really try to see her.
Because what happened to Caleb’s mom after her husband died?
Riley squints at me, then her. “You know Margo?”
“It’s been a while,” Lydia answers.
I can’t quite decide on her tone. It could be soft—i
t certainly sounds it. But there are blades that are so sharp, they slice without pain. Not until after. And maybe that’s her—honed too sharp by time and anger.
“Not long enough,” I find myself saying.
“Then why are you here?”
“Hold on,” Riley interrupts. “Huh?”
“Caleb’s mom. Lydia Asher.” I finally tear my eyes away from her and look around. The place is deserted. “Why do you work here?”
“Food tastes good” She picks up two menus from the host stand. “I assume you ladies are here to eat?”
“No—”
“Yes,” Riley says, smiling sweetly. “Can we have that corner booth?”
Lydia watches her for a beat, then nods. “Of course.”
She leads us down the aisle. It’s a long and narrow diner, with a bar and bolted-in stools on one side, and a row of booths against the windows. The booths wrap around and end at the kitchen doors. Behind the bar, there’s a window into the kitchen. It seems deserted back there, too.
“Busy day?” I run my hand over the counter.
I’ve never seen a restaurant so quiet.
“It picks up around brunch,” she murmurs. “Here you are. Water?”
“Yes, thanks,” Riley says, taking a seat.
Lydia hesitates next to me. “Why are you really here, Margo?”
I shrug. “Just hungry.”
“All the way in Beacon Hill?”
“We were in the neighborhood. And I guess we were just feeling… lucky.”
She narrows her eyes. “All right.”
I sit across from Riley once she goes.
“Honestly,” I whisper-yell. “What are we doing?”
“This has to be why Matt sent Caleb here. He can’t be on positive terms with his mother if she left him to…” Riley presses her lips together. She’s no doubt remembering the night we rescued Caleb from his uncle’s house.
She’s right, of course. His uncle is a monster, and his mother abandoned him.
Something crashes, and we both jump.
I twist around and catch a flash of dark hair through the window into the kitchen.
When Lydia doesn’t reappear, I glance at Riley. “Should we check on her?”
Riley shrugs. “Maybe? Give her a minute.”
