Page 75 of Twisted Gift

Finally, I look.

His eyes are closed. His chest is still.

Max is gone.

I press my fist against my mouth, fighting the sob that’s trying to break free from my throat. I hold it in until I can’t any longer. I pull the car over onto the shoulder of the country road and scream, choking on the sob. I slam my fist into the steering wheel until it’s swollen and throbbing, while my other arm sits useless in my lap, sharp pain radiating from the bullet wound.

Glancing into the back seat, anger radiates through me. I should kill this woman. She might not have founded The Experiment, but she is a huge part of it. She deserves to suffer for the pain she’s caused.

I shift the car into drive and pull back onto the road.

I’ll let Tristan decide how she dies.

By the time I pull into the back parking lot of the hotel, it’s dark outside. I rummage around the trunk of the car and happen to find one of those useful little sleepy shots the bastards stuck me with when they took me from the hotel.

I stab the needle into the side of Richelle’s neck. She flinches, but sleep drags her under before she moves. I drop the syringe on the floor of the car and shut the door. The parking lot is empty; most of the employees are gone for the night, so I manage to make it through the staff entrance and into the elevator unnoticed.

I press the button to the penthouse, smearing blood on the button. It could be mine, or it could be Max’s. My stomach churns as I turn away from the panel on the wall only to catch my ghastly reflection in the mirror. I’m covered in dirt and blood—mostly mine. My hair is a gross mess of tangles, some of which are caked with blood. One side of my face is covered in bruises, probably from hitting the wall. Dried blood runs from a cut on my brow and from my nose.

Hell, I look as if I was just hit by a transport truck. I feel like it, too.

Thedingof the elevator makes me jump. I step off into the foyer and walk to Tristan’s door. I swallow hard, cringing at the copper taste lingering in my mouth.

I reach for the door handle and turn the knob to find it’s unlocked. Opening the door, I step inside and close it behind me.

Voices drift toward me from the living room, so I follow them.

“I’ve got seven separate teams out scouring every inch of the city.” Tristan’s deep, commanding voice feels like a punch to the gut.

“Skylar and I are heading out as soon as team four gets back.” That’s Allison.

“I want to go with you.” My eyes widen at the sound of Oliver’s voice. What the hell is he doing here?He knows about the fae?

“No,” Allison and Skylar say in unison.

“Come on. I can handle it. Those assholes took one of my best friends and my boyfriend.”

“We’ll get them back, Oliver.” Nikolai’s voice fills the room. “We need—”

His voice cuts off the moment I step into the room. My friends stare at me as if I’m an apparition.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Oh my god,” Allison breathes.

My eyes travel around the room until they land on Tristan, and then they stay there. His eyes are wide, desperate, and filled with terror. Tears blur my vision as my knees start to shake.

Tristan shifts in front of me just as they give out, and he catches me before I hit the floor. I cling to him, terrified to let go as my shoulders shake with silent sobs.

“I didn’t say it.” Hot tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. “I wanted to, but I was so scared, and—I should’ve said it.”

He guides my face away from his chest so he can look at me. “Aurora—”

“I love you, Tristan,” I cry. “I fucking love you.”

He smiles as if he’s feeling the warmth of the sun on his face for the first time in days. “You didn’t need to say it, Rory. I know. I’ve known.”

As glad as I am to hear that, it doesn’t stop the tears. Now that I’m away from that place, now that my adrenaline is wearing down, everything is catching up with me.

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