Page 151 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

“How did he grab you?”

She coughs into her arm. “He was a driver on one of those apps. Said his name was Ted. Should’ve been a fucking sign, right? Like Ted Bundy. He lured women to his car, too.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

“It’s almost funny,” she muses. “You had tried so hard to make me see that Natalie was better off dead. I didn’t believe you until now. I thought if she could just come back, everything would be okay.”

I close my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be right.”

There’s a door in the corner, and cool-toned light seeps in from under it. “Does that lead outside? Or to another room?”

She shrugs and tips her head back. Her eyes drift closed. “A room with windows. I’ve never been out there.”

“Is… is he here now?”

She coughs again. She probably has pneumonia at this rate, sitting in the damp cold. “Doubtful. He likes to sing.”

“Sing?”

“Yeah. Under his breath, but sort of loud. Men like him don’t know how to live quietly.”

I don’t respond. She’s right: some men don’t know what it’s like to shrink yourself down. The art of making yourself invisible. But then again, Whitney wasn’t much good at that, either. She drew a crowd—her and Natalie. Their laughter was infectious, it filled a room.

Tears fill her eyes. “When do we get to go home?”

I squeeze her hands. “I don’t know.”

Halloween was eight days ago.

Today is… Sunday night.

My thoughts are muddled. The drug feels… gone. Worn off, maybe, or absorbed.

“I have something to tell you,” I whisper.

She cracks one eye open. “Okay.”

“I… I was kidnapped as a child.” It feels good to say it out loud, so I keep going. “The person who took me asked for a ransom, and my parents paid it. I… I don’t know the specifics, but I was returned. But I think my parents regretted not letting the police handle it. They always fought about money after that.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

I open my mouth to answer her, but somewhere outside our room, a door squeals as it opens.

“He’s back,” she says urgently, then seems to retract into herself.

“Does he hurt you?” I jerk my chin at her temple.

“Only if you resist,” she whispers.

Masters opens the door and steps inside. “She’s awake. How are you feeling, Sky?”

I glare at him and keep my mouth shut.

He smiles, then turns to Whitney. “Guess what time it is, darlin’?”

Her face goes white. “It’s Sunday already?” she whispers.

“It is.” His gaze goes to the mess I made on the floor. “Damn it, Skylar.”