Page 41 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

Not Jake.

Not her parents.

And certainly no asshole named Mitchel Norton.

Handcuffs—ha. If only she knew what was in his bedside drawer.

“You’re staring,” she murmurs from my couch.

It’s midnight, and I don’t know why the hell I’m awake. And I don’t know why I decided not to suffer in silence in my room. I could’ve counted the rotations of my ceiling fan, or sheep, or various fights.

Instead, I carted my ass out of bed and curled up on the chair next to the couch.

Sky had been sleeping, but sometime between my contemplating our weird childhood to now, she woke up.

Maybe I’m a force, too.

Or she just doesn’t like someone staring at her while she sleeps.

“You okay?” She pushes herself upright, keeping the thick blanket wrapped snug around her. I’d given her one of my sweatshirts to sleep in, and the thing dwarves her.

I sigh. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“But you did.” She raises her eyebrow. “So, spill.”

“Your parents split, right?”

She scoffs. “That’s what’s keeping you up at night? My parents’ divorce?”

“No.” I roll my shoulders back. “I was actually just trying to count how many times I’d come downstairs for school and you’d be at our table.”

She sucks her lower lip into her mouth. “They’re better separate. Happier.”

“I’d hope so.” I had never seen more miserable people, and they were just dragging Sky down.

“Do you think Natalie is alive?” she asks.

I frown. Missing girls tends to get everyone nervous. Dead girls… that’s more definitive.

Amber Huck is dead.

Natalie is a huge fucking question mark, and that seems to scare people the most.

“I don’t know,” I eventually say. “I don’t really want to think about it.”

She draws her knees up to her chest. “It’s just… Amber had that boyfriend, right? The abusive one? Natalie wasn’t like that. She was a social girl, friends with everyone. Her parents are stupid rich, so there will probably be media attention on it.”

“Her name and face will be in the paper,” I reply. “I don’t know how long you can go without being questioned for knowing her. Maybe you should give Dr. Penn a call.”

She stiffens. “You think I might be questioned, and I should call my therapist? What the fuck, Liam?”

I shrug.

Last night, I thought about how many girls I had fucked—but how many did I hold an actual conversation with? Riley and Margo, sure, but they were my best friends’ girls. They were practically obligated to talk to me.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” she grumbles. “I’m going to sleep. And if you plan on staying out here, I’m taking your bed.”

I shrug. “Go for it.”