Page 68 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

He probably shouldn’t have told me about the sedative.

“Stop.” Liam takes my hand.

I shake myself and look down at the hand he holds.

“You were scratching at your neck.”

I tilt my head. “Right.”

“It’s a bad habit,” he continues, narrowing his eyes.

I glare back. “And you’re the boss of which parts of my body I can touch, huh?”

“When you’re just—”

“Enough,” Mom chides. “Arguing will get you nowhere, right? I raised you better than that.”

I wince and pull my hand from his grasp. “Are you hungry? I don’t know if I have much, but I could make something…”

“We could do dinner,” Mom offers. “My treat.”

Liam sighs. “I can’t. My brother is heading back to college tonight, so I need to see him off. But perhaps you can tell her what we discussed?”

My gaze bounces back and forth between them. “Um, discussed? With each other?”

“I want you to keep an open mind,” Mom says carefully. “Can you promise that?”

I plant my hands on my hips. “No. I want to be able to freak out without breaking a promise.”

Liam rolls his eyes.

“We’ve offered Liam a job,” Mom says.

I narrow my eyes. Yeah freaking right did she offer Liam Morrison a job. Is it April Fools’ Day? Am I being pranked? “Uh-huh.”

“To…”

“Babysit you,” Liam inserts.

“No!” Mom and I say at the same time.

“No,” she repeats. “To make sure nothing bad happens to you again.”

I straighten. “Again.”

Now she fidgets, picking at the hem of her coat. She’s been inside for the past ten minutes, and she’s still buttoned up. Ready to flee into the cold, I suppose.

“Recent events may trigger your CPTSD.”

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Emphasis on the complex, since it doesn’t abide by normal PTSD rules. And it’s a diagnosis my Dad fought for eternity.

Well, since I was thirteen.

It explained away the amnesia and my aversion to certain things. Why I sometimes have panic attacks or feel like I’m suffocating.

Nightmares, although I haven’t had those for a while.

“Recent events,” I repeat.