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Twisted Lies (Twisted #4)(93)

Author:Ana Huang

Christian. My trapped sob finally broke free. As angry as I’d been when I’d found the files, and as much as he’d betrayed my trust in the past, there was no one I’d rather see at that moment than him. “Stella.” Relief softened the razor edges of his fury. He said my name like a prayer, a whisper so raw and heartfelt it obliterated any resistance I might’ve had. I didn’t think. I didn’t speak. I just crossed the room and crumpled into his arms.

50

CHRISTIAN

She’s here. She’s safe. I repeated the words in my head as I held Stella tight. Tiny shivers rippled through her body, and even though she was almost as tall as me, she felt fragile.

Breakable. Fierce protectiveness burned in my chest. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” I murmured.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.” She buried her face deeper in my neck, her soft sobs twisting my heart like a wrung-out rag. I was holding her again for the first time in weeks, but this wasn’t how I’d wanted it to be. Not with her bruised, hurt, and terrified. The relief I’d felt at seeing her alive gave way to renewed rage. My cold gaze found Julian over Stella’s shoulder. He glared back at me, his eyes filled with hatred, but he didn’t say a word as Steele and Mason secured him with restraints. I’d recognized Julian’s face from his Washington Weekly bio. I also recognized it from the background check I’d run on his grandmother when she first bought her apartment at the Mirage. After she died, the property passed to him. I didn’t involve myself in the mundane details of tenant turnover, so I hadn’t connected that detail. No wonder there’d been no evidence of him leaving the Mirage after he broke into Stella’s apartment. He’d been inside it the whole time. “Keep him alive,” I said. “I’ll deal with him personally.” I wanted the pleasure of tearing the bastard apart myself. However, a glimmer of pride sparked in my chest when I saw the nasty wound on his neck. Stella must’ve taken a chunk out of him before we arrived. That’s my girl. Steele nodded. “You got it.” We’d tracked Julian down via the credit card he’d used for his car rental, then tracked the car to this shittastic cabin in the Virginia woods. The car’s built-in GPS made that easy. I hadn’t wanted to take any chances, so I’d called in a handful of men to accompany me and dispatched another to get Brock. Julian must’ve drugged him and Stella with different substances—one to incapacitate Brock and get him out of the room, the other to disorient her. I wanted nothing more than to flay him alive, but Stella took priority. I rubbed a hand over her back. “We’ll check into a hotel and get you cleaned up,” I murmured. “I have a doctor who can meet us there and take a look at your wounds.” I hated hospitals. All that fucking paperwork and lax security. It was easier to take care of her myself. When she gave a tiny, silent nod, I left my men to deal with the mess in the cabin and gently guided her into my car.

My anger flared again at the sight of her cuts and bruises in bright daylight, but I tamped it down. Later. Once I made sure she was okay, I could take all the time I wanted dismantling Julian. Stella didn’t speak as I pulled away from the cabin. I wanted to take her back to my apartment, but I didn’t want to violate the boundaries she’d established during our breakup.

However, when we arrived at the nearest decent hotel, she didn’t budge from the car. She stared at the entrance, her knuckles white around her knees. “Can we go to your house instead?” she asked quietly. “I want to be somewhere safe.” My heart roared to life, but I kept my voice even. “Of course.” Dr. Abelson was already waiting for us when we arrived at the Mirage. He was technically retired, but one of my clients had referred me to him years ago when I’d mentioned needing a private, discreet doctor. Apparently, Abelson needed something other than golf and television to pass the time during retirement. I didn’t need the other residents asking questions, so I took us through the back entrance up to my penthouse. I had a special

room set aside for medical treatment, and I watched impatiently as Abelson introduced himself to Stella and checked her injuries.

“Is she okay?” I demanded after an interminable length of time that was in reality less than thirty minutes. “She has a few cuts and bruises, plus a mild concussion, but she’ll be fine,” he said.

“Nothing time and rest won’t heal.” The diagnosis should’ve placated me, but all I focused on was the word concussion. I mentally added another fifteen minutes to my time with Julian. “I’ll do it,” I said when he moved to bandage one of her cuts. “You can leave. Thank you.” Other than a small lift of his eyebrows, Abelson didn’t react to my request. “Do I want to know what happened?” he asked as he packed his bag. He kept his voice low Stella sat on the far side of the room. She’d been silent during her examination, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear us.

“No.” He was on call to handle medical issues, but I kept him out of the loop on how, exactly, those issues arose. “That’s what I figured.” He shook his head. “Call me if any complications arise. I don’t anticipate they will, but you have my number.” That was why I liked Abelson. He was discreet, competent, and didn’t ask unnecessary questions. After he left, I finished bandaging Stella’s cuts. The tips of my fingers skimmed her skin as I gently pressed the bandages over her wounds. The steady hum of the air conditioner mingled with our soft breaths, and an electric current wound my muscles tight until I finished my ministrations. “If you’re hungry, I can make us food,” I said. She shook her head. “I just want to shower and sleep.” I didn’t argue. Instead, I guided her to the hallway and stopped between the guest room and my bedroom. I shouldn’t ask. I knew it might cross boundaries again, and that she might not be ready. But I had to try. “Stay with me.” I softened the words into a request, not an order. “Just for tonight. Please.” We were in the safety of my penthouse, but it wasn’t enough. I’d almost lost her, and I needed her close. I needed to see her, touch her, comfort her. Reassure myself she was actually there and not a figment of my imagination. Only then could I breathe. An eternity of a second passed, followed by a small nod, sweet relief, and the click of my bedroom door closing behind us. Stella and I took turns showering. She’d moved all her belongings into Ava’s house, so I gave her one of my old shirts to wear. The sight of her in my clothing tugged at my heart. It didn’t mean she forgave me or that we were back together. She’d gone through a traumatizing experience, and her actions now weren’t indicative of her regular behavior. But it was progress, and I’d take anything I could get. “How did you find me?” she asked as I slid into bed next to her. She’d regained some of her color after the shower, and she was making conversation again. More progress. Another tingle of relief eased my tension. “Brock texted me, and I saw him on the cafe’s security footage.” I gave her a quick rundown of what happened, leaving out the part about Kage and the junkyard. “Will he be okay?” Stella would be worried about someone else when she was the one who’d been abducted. The corner of my mouth kicked up. “Yes. He’ll be fine with some rest.” “Good.” She half faced me with one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Despite what she’d said about wanting to sleep, she seemed reluctant to do so. “Talk to me, Butterfly. What’s on your mind?” “Well, I’ve had an exciting day.” Another smile crossed my lips. Jokes, no matter how dry, were always a good sign. “But I don’t want to talk about what happened right now.” She shifted so she faced me fully. “Tell me a story.” “A fairytale?” I teased. She shook her head. “Something real.” I thought about it before my smile gradually faded. “How real do you want, Stella?”

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