Twisted (Never After #4)(81)

I lean my head against the cool glass window, watching the urban streets turn to desert sand, and eventually, after what feels like hours of driving on empty roads, there’s a large warehouse-type building in the distance, with several smaller buildings sprinkled around the edges. The entire thing is surrounded by a fence, signs in both English and Arabic on either side of the opening to the drive that warn people not to trespass.

Finally, we come to a stop directly in front of the building.

The driver gets out of the Jeep and moves to the back, unloading our bags and taking them inside, and I sit still, my hands wringing together in my lap, waiting to see what Julian’s going to do next.

He doesn’t say a word, just unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car, so I follow suit, the quiet night air kissing my cheeks as I do. My muscles sigh in relief when I stand up, and I take a moment to stretch, trying to ignore the random pains from so much travel.

The sky is pitch-black other than the lights from the building, and I don’t know that I’ve ever seen stars shine so brightly in the sky.

There’s so many of them.

“Where are we?” I finally ask, glancing around.

Julian doesn’t even spare me a glance. “This is the compound.”

“Yeah, I got that, genius. I meant where in the country?”

He cuts me a sharp glare, and a thrill sparks in my veins.

Finally, some attention.

“That doesn’t matter.”

I roll my eyes, because I know he hates it when I do. “Well, that narrows it down.”

He spins toward me fully now, his jaw tensing and his gaze hard and cold. A slight twinge of fear drips through my middle, but it’s muted by the racing of my heart, excited to have his attention on me again.

“Let me make this perfectly clear,” he says, his voice low and controlled. “You are not here for vacation. You are not here to sightsee. It doesn’t matter where we are because you’re not to leave this building.”

I scoff, walking toward him with my arms crossed. “The fact that you think you can treat me like shit and then still tell me what to do like I’m a child is truly mind-blowing.” I’m not really upset; I’m trying to rile him up on purpose.

Just for fun.

Just to see how much it takes for his icy exterior to crack and give me back my Julian.

I lift up on my tiptoes, my nails scratching against his chest and our faces coming close enough for our noses to brush. “Better get it together, patatino, or else the people here will think you’re my daddy and not my husband.”

He chuckles, deep and dark, his head tilting as he stares down at me, reaching out with his veiny hand and cupping my cheek.

“If I want to be your daddy, then I’ll take you over my knee again.” My eyes flutter, leaning into his warm touch.

“If I want to be to your husband, I’ll keep you at my side.” His thumb caresses my cheek.

“And if I want to be your lover, then I’ll kill the boy you love.”

There’s something about the way he says that last sentence that has my focus snapping into place, wondering if maybe he’s so hot and cold, if the reason why he’s suddenly so desperate for me to tell him that I’m his is because he’s worried about Aidan.

About the boy who’s held my heart for years. The one who he had to manipulate in order to get us apart, and the one who up until a couple of weeks ago, I was sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Of course.

If the situation were reversed and I was in Julian’s place, wouldn’t I feel the same?

My mind flashes back to the plane. To the night before. All the small moments in between. The ones that we shouldn’t have had but couldn’t escape.

Somewhere along the way, things shifted for both of us, changing from something that I had no escape from to something I ache to escape into, and if that’s happening for me, wouldn’t it make sense that’s it’s also happening for him?

He’s not a morally upstanding man, but then again, neither is my father, and I’ve looked past all the things I’ve known Baba to do because of how much I love him, so what’s stopping me from admitting that what I’m feeling for Julian could be something true, despite the way it began?

I tilt my head, watching him in an entirely new light.

Maybe this is real for him, the same way as it’s starting to feel real to me.

He starts to move, to turn away from me and the conversation, but I’m not letting him off that easily. Not when he’s put up these walls that keep me locked out, when I know that he’s really hurting inside.

Suddenly, the questions of if I’m his make perfect sense, and it isn’t until right now that I let my defenses down fully, letting go of everything I was angry about, all the heavy, sick emotions, and allowing myself to admit that I care for him in a dizzying, painful type of way.

In a way that I’ve never felt for anyone else, not even Aidan.

My husband.

The man I’m supposed to hate.

He spent his entire childhood having to put others first without ever getting the love and attention of being chosen back.

So of course he’s putting up walls.

Of course he’s turning away.

I’m sure all this terrifies him as much as it does me, and it’s realizing that— realizing he’s having to deal with his feelings for me in the only way he knows how—that has me running after him to grab his arm.