Cruel Abandon

by S. Massery

  I can’t seem to get warm. I put my hands on his shoulders. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Different cities, different states. Almost seven years separating it. It’s a coincidence. An unfortunate one, though.”

  I sigh.

  He kisses my neck softly, then lingers. Places another kiss there, sucking. My nerves roar awake, and it unwinds my tension. I tilt my head to the side and wrap my legs around his hips, keeping him against me.

  “Take your shirt off,” I demand.

  He straightens and does as I say, lifting his shirt off and throwing it on the kitchen island behind him. I slowly peel mine off, then release his legs. He helps me pull my sleep shorts down and adds them to the pile of discarded clothes.

  Liam meets my gaze, and for a moment we’re both frozen in time.

  I brush his blond hair off his forehead. “I…”

  I almost say it, but I can’t.

  He nods his understanding, and his finger strokes down my core. It’s a tease, but one that makes me shudder nonetheless. And then he grips my knees, pushing my legs farther apart. I do my best to squash the vulnerability that comes to life. He thrusts his finger into me, and I arch my back.

  “Sweet angel,” he says under his breath. “I wonder what you taste like?”

  I shake my head, but then he’s leaning down and hooking my leg over his shoulder. He kisses down the inside of my thigh.

  “Liam, stop—”

  He bites, and I yelp.

  But I also get wetter.

  He repeats himself, kissing and then a quick nip. His tongue soothes the spot. I grip the counter on either side of my hips.

  “You’re soaked.”

  I tip my head back, whimpering when his tongue finds my clit. I’m lost to the rushing blood in my ears and the sensation of Liam’s mouth on me.

  “I’m close,” I say on a moan.

  He moves lower, and his fingers dig into my thighs at the same time his tongue stabs into me.

  Oh my god.

  I grab at his hair as he fucks me, pushing in and out. His thumb rubs circles on my clit, and the sensation—of fireworks, of holding electricity in my hands, of fire and magic—grows. It explodes through me, and I try to clamp my legs together.

  He bites my thigh once more, then rises.

  My fingers slip from his hair, and he swipes around his mouth with his thumb, sucking any last remnant of me off.

  Automatically, my gaze goes down.

  He’s hard as a rock. I’ve barely caught my breath when the need flutters through my lower abdomen.

  “I want you,” I breathe.

  I don’t have to ask twice.

  He grips my hips, dragging me to the edge of the counter, and aligns us. “Ready?”

  I nod once.

  He slams into me, and we both groan. There’s a pinch of pain, a remnant of last night, and maybe I make a face. He immediately stills, full to the hilt inside me.

  “You’re sore,” he says.

  I almost shake my head, then think better of lying. “A little.”

  He shakes his head and starts to retreat, but I hold onto his face.

  “Don’t you dare stop. I’m fine, Liam.”

  He seems to analyze my expression, then finally nods. He moves inch by inch, in and out.

  It’s not doing it for me.

  I kiss him fiercely. As rough as I can manage. I suck his tongue into my mouth and roll my hips.

  “Fuck me,” I say against his lips.

  He holds my hip with one hand and pulls almost all the way out. With his other, he grabs my chin and forces me to look down at our connection.

  Still pinching my chin, he thrusts into me hard, hard enough that the pain is obliterated by pleasure, and mixed in with it, too.

  He does the same thing again, both of us staring downward. Out and in.

  “You’re like the dream I didn’t think I’d ever grasp,” he says, still slow. Relentless.

  It’s clear I’m not in charge here, as much as I wished I was. But I’m captivated by his words.

  His hold on my chin slides down, to my throat. Around to the back of my neck.

  He frees my hair from the tie, and I shake it out over my shoulders. It’s gotten longer in the last few weeks, and right now it’s wavy, flipping every direction. He makes a noise in the back of his throat and wraps his fingers in my hair, tugging my head back.

  “Sky,” he pants. His pace is unrelenting. “Touch yourself.”

  I close my eyes and don’t think—I just do. I run my hand down my body, over my breasts. He groans when I pinch my own nipple, rolling it between my index finger and thumb. The lower my hand moves, the more frantic our movements become. I’m caught in a vortex of emotions, and one glance at Liam’s face tells me he’s the same.

  We’re the same.

  My finger reaches my clit, and it only takes a few passes for my climax to build. My body trembles, and stars flash in front of my eyes.

  He pumps twice more then stills, quietly saying my name as he comes inside me.

  We’re still for a long moment.

  In the silence, I recognize my pounding heart. The sweat that’s gathered under my breasts and the back of my neck. I feel… satiated, though. Tired.

  The nightmare that cradled me earlier has been banished, and left in its place is the smell of our sex… and some broken glass.

  “Careful,” he says, scooping me into his arms. “I don’t think I got it all.”

  I loop my arm around his shoulders and he navigates us back to his bedroom. I haven’t completely let go of my room yet, even if I slept there for half of a night. I might need the safe haven eventually.

  He lays me down on the bed and turns off the light, then crawls in behind me.

  “You okay?” I whisper into the dark.

  His warm chuckle hits my ear. “I should be asking you.”

  I shift to face him and wiggle closer. Face to face now, there’s nowhere to run. Not that I can see anything, really. Just the outline of his face, a black silhouette against the darkness of the room.

  “I’m good,” he eventually says. “Happy, you know? Which kind of makes me…”

  “Nervous,” I fill in.

  “In a word.”

  He leans in, and I automatically close my eyes. His lips brush my forehead.

  An ocean crashes inside my chest. I can’t say it feels like drowning—it’s more like… floating.

  “I love you,” I whisper. “It’s probably too soon, or—”

  “It’s not,” he says quickly. “I—”

  “Please don’t say it back.” I cover his mouth with my hand, then smile to myself. This is how I woke up, but it was negative. Now, I’m trying to staunch the flow of happiness. I’m bleeding saltwater and trying not to float away. “I just… I’m in love with you, and I wanted you to know it right now, because that’s how I feel. I know I’m rambling. You should only say it when you know it for sure. In your heart.”

  He grins against my palm. “Sky?”

  “Yes?”

  “I fucking love you.”

  I pull my hand away. Can he see me staring at him in the dark?

  “You do?” I ask.

  He touches my cheek, swipes just under my eyes. “You’re crying.”

  “I don’t mean to.” I rub at my face. “Happy tears.”

  “I thought you would’ve picked up the love from my possessive streak. No?”

  I choke on a laugh. “A girl should never assume.”

  “That’s fair.” He draws me closer. “We have another three hours before the sun rises. Are you tired?”

  I use his momentum and flip us, until I’m straddling him. The blankets slide off my back.

  “I’m not tired,” I tell him.

  He rises to meet me and kisses me soundly. “Good.”

  39

  Sky

  We spend the next twenty-four hours in bed.

  Which is… crazy.

  It feels lik
e it’s verging on insane, actually.

  Liam and I learn each other’s bodies… and more than that. The amount of things we can talk about blows my mind. He’s studying psychology, and at one point he whispers that he might want to go into trauma counseling.

  He questions my double major, citing the fact that I must be brilliant to tackle math and economics.

  I agree but then shrug. I have another year of school to get through, and my options are wide open. I’ve been considering going toward my doctorate in mathematics. I could narrow down my focus to statistics or engineering. Depends on how I want to spend the rest of my life, I suppose.

  “I’m officially out of coffee,” Liam says, coming back into the room.

  He wears only boxers, and I have to physically close my mouth so I don’t drool. He’s hot. He’s always been hot, but twenty-one-year-old Liam is sexy hot.

  “Earth to Skylar.” He waves his hand in front of his abdomen. “My eyes are up here.”

  I giggle. “I missed whatever it is you said.”

  “We have no coffee.”

  “Oh, that’s not good.” I hop out of bed, protesting the way my muscles holler.

  We may have spent last night experimenting… and christening every room in his apartment. I think one of my favorites was when he bent me over the couch.

  I shower quickly and get dressed even faster. I’m ready and waiting by the time Liam emerges from the bathroom. His hair is wet and sticking up every which way.

  Things are different now. Maybe it was our mutual love confession, or just that we’ve put the outside world on pause. No bad news has infiltrated our lives in the past day and a half. We’ve barely looked at our phones.

  He tosses me a winter hat and motions toward the window. “Did you notice the snow?”

  I grimace. “It snowed again? It’s the beginning of November.”

  “That’s New England for you. It’ll probably be gone in two days.”

  He waits while I change my sneakers for boots and pull the cap on over my hair. I take a moment to stare at myself in the mirror. My hair has been fading even faster now, and it’s nearing a blue-silver color. Hard to believe I started at such a deep blue-black.

  “Ready,” I call.

  We walk to the nearest cafe side by side. It’s not as cold out as I thought it would be, but the sky is light gray with thick clouds. As it so happens, the cafe we arrive at is one of my favorites. It was close to my last apartment, although from the opposite direction.

  We order and sit at a table in the corner.

  Almost as soon as we get our drinks delivered, my phone rings. I glance at the screen, then at Liam. “It’s Whitney’s mom.”

  He takes my free hand in his.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hi, Skylar.” Her voice is scratchy. “How are you?”

  I swallow. “I’m okay. How are you guys doing?”

  “We’ve been better. Detective McAdams told me she asked you to come in and you hadn’t yet?”

  Apprehension prickles up my spine. I glance around the cafe.

  “We just got back into town this morning,” I inform her. “We went home for the week.”

  “Ah.” Silence, then, “I just want them to have everything they need to bring my baby girl back home.”

  I don’t know what to say to that.

  And really, it’s kind of infuriating. I’m not sure why everyone thinks I have the magic code to unlock all the answers of this freaking case.

  “Just, please talk to them,” she says. “I’ll let you go. It sounds crowded where you are.”

  I roll my eyes and grip Liam’s hand tighter. “Right. I’ll talk to them today.”

  Once I set my phone down, I fill Liam in on her request.

  He barks out a laugh, then frowns. “They’re pig-headed when they think someone knows something and doesn’t come forward.”

  I grimace. “I literally have trauma-induced amnesia from my childhood. A complex PTSD diagnosis. What do they want from me?”

  He sighs, shaking his head, and pulls out his phone.

  “Oh fuck,” he says.

  I raise my eyebrows. “What?”

  “I had my phone on silent, and I have missed calls from Theo, Caleb, and Eli. Shit.”

  He dials and waits. Then, “Sorry, sorry. Yeah, I’ve been fucking busy. What’s up?”

  I try to dissect his expression, but he’s not giving me much. Whichever one he called must be chatty, because he’s silent for almost a full minute.

  Finally, he says, “Okay, yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He ends the call and meets my stare. “Sorry. Theo needs my help with something. I can take you back to the apartment, but I don’t think this is something you’ll want to be involved in.”

  “Ms. Buckley?”

  We both swivel toward the man coming at us. He’s familiar, but not enough that I can immediately place him.

  Liam, however, stands abruptly. “Detective.”

  I narrow my eyes. He’s not showing a badge. In fact, he seems rather dressed down: a black jacket, black knit cap, dark jeans, and hiking boots. His light-brown goatee is mixed with gray.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure?” Liam asks. “And how the hell did you find us?”

  He shrugs. “I’m a detective. Finding people is half the job.”

  I snort.

  He turns to me and smiles. “Skylar.”

  I stand, hovering awkwardly a half step behind Liam. He hasn’t moved over, and I get the impression that he has no plans on doing that.

  “You should be going through her lawyer,” Liam points out.

  The man I can only assume is Detective Masters raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not here on official business.”

  “Then why are you here?” I blurt out.

  He motions for the table. “Do you mind if we sit?”

  Liam wavers.

  I tap his arm. “Listen, it’s okay. I can fend for myself.”

  He doesn’t want to leave, and I can totally understand that. I don’t necessarily want him to leave, either.

  “It sounded serious,” I whisper. “Go help your friends.”

  He frowns, then leans down and kisses the top of my head. I’m starting to enjoy those almost more than real kisses—but let’s be serious: almost.

  I retake my seat, and Liam heads for the door. Detective Masters sits in Liam’s chair and leans back, folding his arms over his chest.

  We stare at each other.

  And I try, I try to pull him from my memories.

  “How are you?” he finally asks.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Still seeing Dr. Penn?”

  I lift my chin. “Wouldn’t that fall under doctor-patient confidentiality?”

  He smiles. “Touché.”

  I mimic his pose and cross my arms. “So, you investigated my case. Six years ago.”

  He nods.

  “What happened? I mean, to the investigation. Did it just run up dry?”

  “I ran out of leads,” he says. “When the victim doesn’t remember anything… there wasn’t a trace of DNA found on you other than your own. You were discovered in the woods behind your house, but we couldn’t determine where you had come from.”

  “Huh.”

  He sighs. “But it has been bothering me recently, especially with the fact that Whitney’s parents were sent a ransom demand.”

  “Because the person who took me did the same?”

  “Right.”

  “Detective Masters—”

  “Jim, please.”

  I dip my head. “Jim, er… I don’t see how I can help. I worked with Dr. Penn for years to try and get anything useful out of my brain, and short of hypnosis? It didn’t work. In fact, she said it could be dangerous to try and force it.”

  He rubs his eyes. “I’m sorry, Skylar. It’s not my intention to cause harm. But if you want to remember, I brought some old case notes with me. I just wanted to give you the option.”r />
  I try not to seem too interested.

  Case notes could lead me in the right direction.

  My dreams have been getting more pointed—well, except last night, where I didn’t sleep much at all. But the woods, and Liam, and… A sudden chill rushes through me. Liam’s at the center of this. He basically admitted it himself.

  “Skylar?”

  I shake my head slowly.

  No, there’s no way a fourteen-year-old boy could kidnap a thirteen-year-old.

  “How long was I gone?” I ask the detective.

  He clears his throat. “Thirty-six days.”

  Over a month. “But I seem to be missing more than that in my memory…”

  “I have some of it documented. We questioned you in the hospital. I have that interview transcribed, if you’d like.”

  There’s no doubt that I do. I don’t remember being in the hospital at all. “Yeah.” I clear my throat and finish off my drink. “I do want to see that, actually.”

  He frowns. “If Dr. Penn would think this is a bad idea…”

  “No!” I press my lips together, then say, “She might say that. But I’m tired of living in the dark. I’d like to see what you have.”

  “They’re in my car.” He stands and gestures for me to lead the way outside.

  I hold my coat and hat and follow him around the corner. I slip a bit on the iced-over sidewalk, and he grips my elbow. I shoot him a thankful smile.

  “How far away did you park?”

  “Just up here. There was a parking garage… I’m going to write off the expense anyway, so why not?”

  I nod. “Better than having to parallel park in the snow.”

  He grins. “Exactly.” He glances over and taps his forehead. “That’s healing well.”

  I touch the scab. “Yeah, it doesn’t really hurt anymore, either.”

  “How’d it happen?”

  I shake my head. “I fell down a slope. It’s when I came across Natalie’s…” Just Natalie. That separation is something I still struggle with, obviously.

  “You’re a brave young woman,” Jim remarks.

  We head down the stairs of the parking garage. It’s all underground, and the entrance itself is no bigger than a driveway. It’s meant to blend into the rest of the buildings, to not look like a garage.

  There are only three levels, and it appears he parked all the way to the bottom.