by S. Massery
We eat cereal in silence. We ride to the school in silence. It’s a bigger building down the street from the elementary and middle schools, and it looms like a castle at the end of the road. My stomach is a ball of nerves.
“I figure I’ll be giving you rides every morning,” Robert says. “And we can meet at the car after. If you want to do any sort of sport or after-school activity, that’s fine. Lenora or I can arrange how we want to handle the pickup. But don’t feel restricted, okay?”
“Right.”
I make the mistake of glancing at my phone as we walk up the steps to the front door. There’s the text from last night still sitting on my lock screen, and I don’t even have to open it to read its message.
Unknown: You’ll regret it.
I shiver.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Alarming texts from an anonymous person, hours after my arrival? That’s a fast way to get kicked out of a good home. When things seem too weird, some parents bail.
I don’t blame them. I’d bail, too. In fact, I’d love nothing more than to run home and tuck myself back in bed and throw my phone in the trash. If only I had a home.
Robert shows me to the office and introduces me to one of the guidance counselors.
She looks at me funny, squinting, then waves me into the office. “Margo Wolfe? Come with me.”
I perch on the chair next to her desk, watching her type.
“You have a lot of different schools on your record,” she says in a mild voice. “Why is that?”
“I’m a foster. Some homes didn’t work out.”
“Robert and Lenora are good friends.” She’s still typing, her nails clacking against the keys. “We were a little worried about them taking in a teenager, but…”
My eye twitches.
“You’re going to behave, right?”
I sit perfectly still. “Yes, ma’am.”
She flashes me a smile. “Lovely. Okay, here’s your schedule. I had to put you in a lower math class, but perhaps you can find a tutor.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
The bell rings, and I jump.
“End of homeroom. You’re going to be late.”
My schedule is a mess of numbers and words. My heart beats faster. “I don’t know where to go.”
She sighs. “Right. Follow me.”
We walk out of her office, and her whole body perks up when her eyes land on a boy filling out a form. And then I take a good look at him, and something in my chest loosens.
A familiar face.
His gaze snaps to mine, and his name comes out of my memories.
“Caleb Asher,” the guidance counselor says. “This is Margo—”
“Wolfe,” he supplies, grinning. “We’ve met.”
We’ve met. That’s a poor way to cover our history.
His gaze travels up and down my body, and his lips curl into a smile. There’s something off about it. “I’ll take her to class for you, Ms. Ames.”
“Thank you, Caleb.”
And then it’s just Caleb and me in the office, the clock ticking loudly on the wall.
“Well?” I ask.
He turns and stalks out the door, taking the pink pass with him. I hurry to follow, practically jogging after his quick steps. When we’re out of sight of the office, he pivots toward me. His sudden closeness has me taking a step back, and I stare up into his eyes. My shoulder blades hit the lockers.
“Why did you come back, Margo?”
I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
He laughs, leaning down. He doesn’t touch me, but suddenly I’m ice-cold. His expression could stop my heart if he wanted. “You don’t stand a chance.”
I shake my head, moving to edge around him. His hands slam into the lockers on either side of me, caging me in.
“Margo Wolfe,” he whispers. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the king now.”
He walks away, and I stay frozen against the lockers for a minute. That isn’t the boy I knew. No, he’s been replaced by a monster. And I’m pretty sure he just smelled blood in the water.
Keep reading here
Acknowledgments
Woof. That ending, right? You doing okay? Sorry about the little cliffhanger.
I can trace back this duet’s origin to one scene: Gemma standing in the window of her aunt’s house, and Aiden coming for her. And in my mind, this initial version, she was both terrified and exhilarated by what was about to happen.
It seemed poetic that their story would begin with a sacrifice—and that theme ended up being carried throughout their story. It’s such an interesting motivator. I hope you found them as intriguing as I did.
There are a few people I couldn’t have done this without: Rebecca, Ari, my lovely author friends Jolie Vines and AD McCammon, and my editors Emmy Ellis and Paige Sayer. Thank you all for putting up with my shenanigans and helping polish this story.
A big, huge thank you to my father. He’ll never read this, so I’ll tell you: he put up with my random questions, like: “What would you do if you wanted to crash a wedding to kidnap the bride?” Or, “What the hell would a Mafia be shipping to smuggle weapons in?” (He wanted to be listed as the co-writer for that one.)
And lastly, YOU are so important to me. Thank you for sharing my joy in dark stories.
Also by S. Massery
Fallen Royals
(Dark Bully Romance)
#1 Wicked Dreams
#2 Wicked Games
#3 Wicked Promises
#4 Vicious Desire
#5 Cruel Abandon
#6 Wild Fury
DeSantis Mafia Series
(Mafia Romance)
#1 Ruthless Saint
#2 Savage Prince
#3 Stolen Crown
Broken Mercenaries Series
(Romantic Suspense)
#1 Blood Sky
#2 Angel of Death
#3 Morning Star
Standalones
(Contemporary Romance)
Something Special
Something Sacred
About the Author
S. Massery is a dark romance author who loves injecting a good dose of suspense into her stories. She lives in Western Massachusetts with her dog, Alice.
Before adventuring into the world of writing, she went to college in Boston and held a wide variety of jobs—including working on a dude ranch in Wyoming (a personal highlight). She has a love affair with coffee and chocolate. When S. Massery isn’t writing, she can be found devouring books, playing outside with her dog, or trying to make people smile.
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