Page 167 of Always Meant for You
I study him, letting the moment stretch. My earliest memories of Cal are tangled up with Jamie. I must have been four, maybe younger. That would’ve made them seven. It’s hard to picture Cal younger than that.
“Why were you guys in Chicago?” I ask. “Do you know?”
He nods. “My grandpa said she’d been scouted by a modeling agency and moved to the city for work. But she got pulled into afast crowd and lost herself. Drugs took hold. Then she had me. She never told anyone who my father was. My guess is that she didn’t know. I vaguely remember moving around a lot. But we stayed in the row house the longest. My grandpa said we’d lived there for a year. That’s what the utility records showed. I didn’t even know I had grandparents until they came to get me from the police station in the city.”
My throat tightens, emotion rising.
“That’s why the city is hard for me,” he murmurs. “It triggers something inside me. It’s why . . .”
“What, Cal?”
“It’s why I was so rough on you that night in your room, after Jamie’s funeral. I saw your passport and that Bella Mae binder with pictures of clothes and cities taped inside, and?—”
I gasp, and he stops.
He squeezes my hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m trying to apologize for how I treated you. But those things—those signs of you wanting to leave Elverna—sent me into a tailspin.”
I can’t focus on his words.
I’d shoved that binder under my bed. I didn’t think he gave it a second glance. I didn’t think he noticed the name. But he remembers it. And that means one thing. He’s the Castle King.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MABEL
The space around us narrows, and the pressure in my chest swells. My composure is gone, my concern for him eclipsed by the weight of what he’s done to me.
“Do you need to tell me something, Cal?” I whisper, my voice frayed and fragile, every syllable scraped from the rawest part of me.
His brow creases. “What do you mean?”
“Did you post about me online?”
He blinks, caught off guard. “Mabel, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Are you the Castle King?”
He rears back. “The castle what?”
I observe him, trying to get an accurate read, trying to slow my pounding heart. “You really don’t know?”
He doesn’t flinch. “I don’t.”
“You said Bella Mae.” I fight to keep my voice level. “You know that name.”
“It was written across the top of the page in pink glitter. It stuck with me. That’s it.”
“Do you swear?” I’m in his face, gripping his shirt.
He cups my cheeks in his hand. “On my life. Do you believe me?”
I draw in a slow breath and take in the worry in his eyes. “Yes.”
He pulls me into his arms and settles me in his lap. “You’re shaking. Let me hold you.”
I curl into him.
“What is the Castle King? You can tell me.” He kisses the crown of my head. “Please, trust me the way I trust you.”
