Page 103 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)
I hop up and retrieve it, getting her a drink while I’m at it. I pour one for myself, too. Alcohol probably isn’t the best way to cope, but if it settles her nerves? I’m for it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
“The trauma I can’t remember, or tonight?”
“Either.”
She hesitates, searching for something in her cup—maybe courage. Then she blurts out, “I’m a virgin. At least, I think I am.”
I watch her. “You think you are?”
Do not get upset.
“How would I know? Maybe something happened to me—I could’ve been raped. I never asked.”
The cup in my hand suddenly cracks. I cringe and slowly set it on the table, flexing my hand. It didn’t shatter, but there’s a single long line running up the side of the glass.
She manages a smile. “Is this upsetting?”
I desperately want to touch her, but I hold back. “Yes. I don’t know what happened while you were—”
She leans in. “While I was what?”
Do I want to do this?
Her mother and I talked about bringing back Sky’s memories—or at least giving her the bare minimum of what happened to her.
The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. “While you were gone.”
She stands slowly, her brows drawing together. Almost like a zombie, she goes into her room and shuts the door.
Shit.
28
Sky
While you were gone.
I thought it might unlock some sort of memory, but those boxes in the back of my mind stay shut and silent. No rattles, no horrible nightmares… nothing like I would’ve expected.
I don’t even dream of Colt’s leering face or my wrists bound.
Instead, my dreams are filled with long-forgotten moments.
My parents’ argument chased me out of the house. Mrs. Morrison welcomed me, in through the back door. She gave me a bowl of cereal and helped straighten my uniform shirt. She turned back toward the sink, and Liam thundered down the stairs.
He gripped the front of my shirt and kissed me soundly.
That didn’t happen.
I wake up to my heart pounding, my fingers on my lips, and a curling heat in my core.
I roll over and try to ignore it. My room is still dark, faintly illuminated by the city outside the window and the glow of the clock on my nightstand.
Five o’clock in the morning.
In years past, I would wake up around this time and go for a run. Haven’t done that in a while. I consider it now, if only to expend some of my restless energy. I could clean. Or put away the rest of my few possessions.