Page 78 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

Natalie’s boyfriend.

“Oh, um… Whitney left.” I keep the door mostly closed, shielding Liam and my nosy mother from seeing who’s on the other side.

“Ah. Well, can you pass on a message to her?”

I narrow my eyes. “No.”

He’s an interesting guy. Long curly hair, often kept tied back with a piece of leather, a pretty face. He’s from California and gives off the stereotypical surfer vibe. He and Natalie weren’t that odd of a couple—I’m pretty sure he comes from money, and so did she. Their lifestyles gelled.

But now he seems aimless, and he wanders away.

“Hey,” I call, letting the door shut behind me. “How are you holding up?”

He comes back and hesitates. I hate the way his eyes roam—from my eyes to the piercing in my nose, all around my hair. It’s fading slowly to silver. I could be an ice queen by winter.

“The police questioned me all night,” he says slowly. “And finally told me she was dead. So… I’m doing fucking fantastic.”

I flinch.

“Honestly, though? It’s better that she’s gone. Some sicko probably had her locked up, doing god knows what. She’s at peace.”

“Yeah.”

He scowls. “You were so quick to say she was dead, and Whitney freaked out on you. But I think you were just trying to think of Nat as… happy. In Heaven. Right?”

Oh boy. I mean, that’s sort of where I had been going with that.

I find the doorknob at my back and twist. It opens too quickly, and Liam suddenly looms over my shoulder. His gaze goes from me to Jeff. The latter shakes his head quickly, retreating.

“Take care, Skylar,” he calls.

“What did he want?” Liam demands.

“To talk to Whitney. I wanted to see how he was doing.” I tilt my head and think back to what Jeff had just said about Whitney freaking out on me. He was asleep… but I guess he was pretending.

“They’re all vipers,” he informs me.

I look him up and down, then meet his gaze. “You’re one to talk.”

“Skylar!” Mom calls. “We’re just grabbing the last of the boxes. Take your plants unless you want someone else to manhandle them.”

I shake my head and duck under Liam’s arm. Mom meets me halfway and shoves the giant box into my arms.

“I called a car,” she says. “Should be here in a minute. Got everything, guys?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Packing help on top of moving… this is going to cost a pretty penny.

Liam follows me down the stairs. He doesn’t offer to carry the box—he’d probably say it would impair his ability to protect me. What a joke.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” I snap, turning to face him. My hand, and the edge of the box, bumps his chest. “You’re just going to hulk around until the murderer is caught?”

He shrugs. “Unless the guy is out on bail, then I suppose it would continue until the trial.”

I frown. “It could take a year to get to that point.”

“Better get used to me, then.”