Page 7 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

I meet his glare. The blade is back in his hand, and I shrink backward. He lunges forward, grabbing my wrist. In one motion, he cuts me free.

“Delete it,” he orders. He throws the phone into my lap.

I scroll through it, to the incriminating video. “I didn’t post this.”

It doesn’t matter. It’s got over a hundred thousand views. Eight hundred comments. People asking where I go to college, who that is.

I only remember drinking, seeing Liam, holding my phone…

It’s blurry after that. Maybe I did post it, knowing no one would even see it. I don’t have any followers on this site—well, I didn’t.

My notifications are blowing up.

“Delete it, Buckley,” he growls.

I wince and delete the post.

He nods, takes a step back, and glowers. “We’ll see how far this goes. If I even catch a glimpse of you at Howl again—”

I raise my hands in surrender. Now’s not the time to admit that going to Howl felt like taking uppers. It’s easy to get addicted. I can see why he likes it, anyway. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

He sneers. “Sorry? Now?”

The door crashes open, and my roommate yells, “Skylar, you’re never going to believe—oh, shit. You’re him.”

“In the flesh,” Liam deadpans.

“You’re on the news!” Whitney crosses to our little television and turns it on, flipping to the local Boston station.

A woman at an anchor desk has a stack of papers in front of her. “…in a stunning display of violence. One of the fighters, now being identified as Ashburn sophomore Liam Morrison…”

“Turn it off,” I say.

Liam’s face is slowly getting redder. Any more and his head might pop off.

I don’t think I can explain that one away to my R.A.

“What Ashburn College will do next with these allegations of a fighting ring is anyone’s guess. Some speculate this video may be the tipping point—”

Whitney hits the power button, biting her lip. “Um…”

“Out,” Liam growls.

She doesn’t react quick enough, because he takes her by the arm and drags her to the door. It slams closed behind her, and he faces me.

“You know me,” he says in a low voice. “You know I’m good for my word.”

He stalks forward.

I stand, ready to… I don’t know. Fight him? Run away? He’s blocking the door, and I saw for myself how he handles combat. He keeps coming, forcing me back, until my butt bumps the windowsill.

He pauses millimeters away, looming over me.

I’m not afraid of you.

“However this plays out… however much this comes back on me? I’m going to make sure it hurts worse for you.”

I swallow, but I don’t have a retort. I knew what Howl was going into it, and the twin who took our money at the door said as much: it was illegal. Secret. A coveted club.

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