Page 5 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

I’m on a mission to acquaint myself with Skylar Buckley’s social media, delete the stupid video, and make sure she never gets in my way again.

And try not to smash her phone while I’m at it.

2

Sky

My bed tips, catapulting me from hazy, half-drunk sleep into full panic.

Except, my arms don’t move. They’re stretched above me, tied.

Tied.

I struggle, kicking off my comforter. My feet are free, at least.

“Always did panic when restrained,” a familiar voice says above me.

I tip my head back. The room is dark, but light from the hallway slipping in under the door gives it just enough illumination.

A familiar face.

…Liam?

I instantly flash back to earlier tonight, when I was trying to decide if that was really him fighting at Howl. Before tonight… I saw him at home a few months ago. Nothing more than an acknowledgement that he had returned for the summer.

In any case, I was too busy to pay attention to him. I willed myself to be too busy.

But now he’s here, in my bedroom.

My heart picks up, galloping.

“W-What are you doing here?” I rip my hands against the bindings, but they don’t give. “Untie me.”

“We need to have a little chat.” He circles to my side, leaning in close. “You’re more likely to tell the truth when you’re afraid.”

Something sharp touches my jaw. He raises it so I can see the blade in his grasp. Fear kicks through me.

He wouldn’t hurt you, idiot. This is just some game.

I take a deep breath. “I’d be honest if you untied me.”

He steps away and turns on the light.

I shimmy upright as much as I can. He’s attached both of my wrists together, and it looks like he used my shoelaces. Looped them down to the bedframe.

I twist to the side, keeping my back to the wall, and bring my legs up.

When he turns back around, I gasp.

His face could’ve gone through a meat grinder with better results. The left side of his face is puffy, mottled red and faint traces of purple. He’ll probably have a full-on black eye by tomorrow. There’s a clotted cut on his lip, too.

“Does this bring back memories?” he asks. “You feel any sort of sense of loyalty?”

I narrow my eyes. “To who, you?” I laugh. I can’t help it. “Because you supposedly saved me once, I’m supposed to owe you?”

He stalks forward and takes hold of my ankles.

I kick at him as he pulls me flat. It’s no use. His grip doesn’t loosen. I throw my body to the side, toward the edge of the bed. If I fall, he will, too.

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