Robert laughs. “I did. Curfew is midnight.”
Caleb takes my hand and leads me out of the room. In the hallway, he leans down and whispers, “I want to fuck you on that desk.”
My gasp gets lodged in my throat.
“No witty rebuttal?”
“Have I ever had a witty rebuttal?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
His hand squeezes mine.
We clean the table quickly, putting the paint and easels away. He follows me into my bedroom.
“I really think I need to kiss you,” he says. That’s the only warning I get before he’s on me, his hands sliding around my neck. He holds me to him as he slams his lips against mine. He’s shockingly savage. I lean into it, winding my arms around his waist, and he walks me backward.
He uses his hand on my neck to lower me to my bed, chasing after me. His weight barely registers. He ravages me. He nibbles on my lips and leaves no inch of my mouth untouched.
I suck in a breath through my nose, hooking my leg around his hips and pressing him closer.
He breaks away, grinning at the dazed expression.
He taps the tip of my nose. “That was fun. Let’s try something else.”
He grabs my wrists and hauls me to my feet, then out the door. We barely have time to shout goodbye, and then we’re in his car.
I look over at him. “What are you scheming?”
“What are you afraid of?” he asks.
I wonder if me giving in was a bad thing. If he’d only like me for the chase.
“Margo.”
“I’m afraid…” I press my lips together. “Of my dreams.”
He snorts. “Of the boogeyman coming out of your closet?”
“There are things I don’t understand,” I say. “My mother—”
He glances at me sharply. “She was a drug-addicted slut,” he spits. A muscle in his jaw ticks, and his grip flexes on the wheel.
I look straight forward, and we’re suddenly going a lot faster. I grab on to the handle on the door. “Caleb—”
“You shouldn’t talk about her,” he says. “Shouldn’t think about her.”
I shake my head. “I can’t help who I dream about—” We speed around a corner, and I close my eyes. “Please stop.”
“Stop? Stop what?”
We’re gaining speed. It’s a sunny day on a back road. We’re nowhere near other cars, other life. Hell, we could hit a ditch flipped over, and it might be an hour before someone finds us.
Why did we go this way?
“I’m afraid of you,” I blurt out. “When you get that look in your eye. When you do mean things. When you hurt me.”
He shakes his head, slamming on the brakes. The tires squeal, smoking as the car stops on a dime. He meets my gaze. “I don’t do anything you don’t deserve,” he says.
“I didn’t deserve you kissing Savannah. I don’t deserve these games.”
He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. Under his armor, he’s human, too.
Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.
He pulls back onto the road, going a normal speed. We take a few turns, suddenly headed back toward my house. Or… his.
In the driveway, he kills the engine, then gets out without a word.
Per usual, I’m left to follow him. There are more cars in his driveway than I expected, and I walk in tentatively. Liam and Theo are in the front room, leaning over a chessboard. The furniture is still covered in sheets. Everything has a ghost-like quality to it, like no one actually lives here. Not the downstairs, anyway.
I hurry away from them, toward the sound of voices.
I find Eli and Caleb in the kitchen.
It’s hard to enter, knowing what happened last time I was in here. And before that…
“Ah, she’s arrived.” Eli smiles at me.
I frown, not a hundred percent sure I trust him. After all, he’s been hot and cold with Riley. Kind of like how Caleb is with you. “What’s up?”
Eli pops the cap off a beer and offers it to me.
When I shake my head, he takes a long swallow.
“We’re planning a party.”
Parties. I think I hate those. The public schools I went to had parties, but those were loud and obnoxious. The cops were almost always called, which is a disaster if you’re in the foster system and they catch you. And then the one where Caleb carried me out…
I can admit that I’m curious how the rich kids really party. The taste from the other night wasn’t enough to get a feel for it. “What kind?”
“Homecoming,” Caleb answers. His brows furrow.
I blink at him, my mouth popping open. “What?”
Eli shakes his head, snickering. “I think that’s a no, dude. Maybe she’d rather go with Liam—”
Caleb shoves Eli, so hard and fast I almost don’t register it. Eli hits the counter, snarling. I back out of the kitchen—a guilty relief—and into a strong pair of hands.
Theo scowls at me. Shocker.
Liam pushes between Eli and Caleb before the situation can escalate. “What’s this about?”
Caleb glares at Eli, while the latter glares at me.
“You’re an idiot,” Eli declares, looking back at Caleb. “You should just leave your history with her in the past. She and her family—”
Crunch. Caleb’s fist smashes into Eli’s nose, narrowly avoiding Liam.
Theo moves me to the side, helping Liam wrangle both of them. “Goddamn it,” Theo growls. He spins around and points at me. “Leave.”
I take two quick steps backward, then turn and run.
Instead of going out the front door, I take a side exit and find myself staring at the guest house next to the pool. With quick, sure steps, I race toward it. It’s unlocked.
I take a second to pray that no one lives here, and then I’m pushing inside. It’s just like I remembered it, plus three inches of dust. Ugly, pale-yellow paint in the kitchen, one of those retro green refrigerators at the end of the counter. There’s still furniture. A cup…
I walk toward it, mesmerized, and lift it from its spot next to the sink. It sticks a bit, leaving a ring on the vinyl.
“Put that down,” Caleb hisses from the doorway. It seems to pain him to step foot in here, but he does. He marches across the room, kicking up dust, and wrenches the plastic cup from my grip.
My fingers are wooden. I couldn’t have held on to it if I tried.
He slams the cup back down in its spot and grabs my arm just above my elbow. When he drags me out of the room, something wild fractures in my chest. I shove him and manage to get loose.
I race down the hallway and push open a door, stopping dead in the doorway.
My things.
My bed and toys and clothes and drawings on the wall.
Oh my god.
Caleb grabs me from behind, dragging me out of the house.
I scream when we pass my parents’ bedroom door. My legs give out, and my heels create marks through the dust on the floor. Once we’re outside, he pushes me against the house and claps his hand over my mouth.
His breathing is out of control. His eyes suck me in.
“Stop,” he says. “Just stop.”
I find myself leaning toward him. My heartbeat is going to jump out of my throat. He keeps me against the wall with one hand on my chest. He watches me through narrowed eyes.