Page 9 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

She’s often out until three o’clock, preferring to party with her friends after work.

It’s fine by me. The little two-bedroom apartment is my safe haven.

I more than just care about privacy—I live by it. Sometimes the line between privacy and secrecy blur, but it’s what I had to do to survive. Living on campus was misery, and the students didn’t take it easy on Whitney, either. She could only distance herself so much while sleeping five feet away from Howl’s snitch.

I unlock the front door of the brownstone and let out a breath. Before going upstairs to my apartment, I pull out my phone and refresh my email. Sure enough, an alert was sent from administration two hours ago. I can pinpoint the exact moment students got it, too. A murmur broke out through my class, but it was quickly squashed by the professor.

The subject reads: Ashburn College advises students use extreme caution when leaving campus.

There’s not much more detail in the body of the email, just that a missing person report has been filed with the police. Amber Huck, a sophomore from Chatham, New York. She was studying business. Blonde hair, blue eyes, dark-framed glasses. The photo they used must’ve been her high school senior picture.

Last seen on Ashburn College campus Sunday afternoon.

My stomach twists. Snatched from campus? Or did she leave and someone—

A door on the second floor slams, and I shove my phone in my pocket. Guilt is an icy deluge over my head, even if I don’t quite understand the emotion. I jolt into action, moving away from where I was seemingly stuck to the floor.

A three-story climb later, I step into my apartment. One of the lamps by the balcony is lit. I drop my purse and keys on our entry table and move farther into my home. It feels different, but I can’t place why.

The kitchen entry to my right is dark. Down the short hall into the living room, and there’s another hallway on my left that leads to Whitney’s and my bedrooms. It’s not like her to leave lights on, especially since we split the utilities.

I’m halfway to my bedroom when someone grabs me from behind. Their hand wraps around my mouth, yanking me backward, and the other pins my arms behind my back. It’s a smooth attack.

I kick out and buck against the pressure, throwing myself sideways. The missing girl’s write-up plays like a loop in my head.

Someone might be on the hunt for—for what, girls from Ashburn? These predators never just stop with one.

My heel finds my attacker’s foot, and a sharp exhale hits my neck.

I shudder and throw my head back.

Crack.

Pain explodes across my skull, but I’m hoping I got their nose.

“Fuck,” they grunt.

They release my mouth and shove me into the wall. Their hands pull my wrists up, higher than the small of my back. My shoulders burn. I blink away tears.

In this moment, I hate that I recognize him.

I hate that even with blurry vision, out of the corner of my eye, I know his face.

“L-Liam,” I choke out.

“This is a warning,” he says in my ear.

I try again to shake him off, but he leans more of his weight into me.

“What is so important that you’ve broken your silence to warn me about?” I grit out.

His hand on my wrists eases. “Just wanted to remind you not to do anything stupid.”

My whole body moves with my huff.

“Sky,” he says.

His breath is hot—and then it isn’t just his breath, but his teeth on the shell of my ear. A nip, then he dodges when I try to hit him again.

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