Twisted (Never After #4)(96)

It’s gold and dusty, and jewels encrust almost the entire perimeter. It’s beautiful.

But I feel nothing.

Hollow.

Because none of this means anything if I don’t have her.

Snapping the lid closed, I shoot to my feet, knowing full well that I may be heading to my death but willing to accept the consequences as long as I can make sure she’s okay.

I storm back down the hall with the case under my arm and stop short when I see Riya is in the foyer with Aidan.

“What the hell is he doing here?” I snap.

She shrugs, her eyes wide and panicked as she runs a hand through her hair. “I called him when I couldn’t get ahold of Yasmin. I was worried, okay? And turns out I should be.”

Suspicion races through me as I meet the boy’s stare. “Leave.”

“Look, we all love Yasmin here,” Riya cuts in. “Just let us help you. We’re not leaving until we know she’s okay.”

I blow out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Stay here. She’ll need you when she comes back.”

“And where are you going?” Aidan yells out as I walk away toward the garage.

“I’m going to save my wife.”





Chapter 41





Yasmin





My head is pounding as I sit against the wall with my hands tied behind my back and a gag in my mouth.

Dried blood drips down the side of my face, and I can feel a pulsing ache on the top of my head where I’m sure there’s a contusion.

My stomach rolls and heaves, making me want to puke, but since there’s a gag in my mouth, I try to hold it back, not wanting to throw up and have to swallow it down again.

Julian’s piece-of- shit assistant, Ian, is pacing on the other side of the large warehouse— the same one that Julian brought me to when he taught me how to drive— and he has a gun in his hand as he talks on the phone, using his arms to punctuate whatever point he’s trying to make.

There’s another man here too, and I can only see him out of my peripheral vision from where I’ve been hog-tied and leaned up against the wall. He’s older, graying at the temples, and has on a khaki shirt and dark jeans. He’s flipping a gun around in his hand too, like he’s bored and waiting on something.

I’m not sure what it could be.

Ian hangs up the phone and walks over between me and the mystery man.

“He’s coming,” he says.

The man perks up. “How do you know?”

Ian glances toward me, his eyes narrowing. “Because he loves her. He’ll bring the lamp, don’t worry. I know Julian like the back of my hand.”

Surprise makes my heart clench because I had assumed Julian was in on this. I should have known better, should have trusted in what we were feeling and everything he said.

He loves me. And he’s coming to help.

The man nods sharply. “You better be right.”

“Darryn, I told you back in Egypt. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s changed. Gone soft. He’ll bring the lamp to free the girl, and there’s nothing he can do to get both.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

My heart shoots into my throat, my eyes swinging to the front of the warehouse where Julian stands, a long metal bar in one hand and the silver case that holds the lamp in the other, his stature strong and sure like he doesn’t have a care in the world. My stomach tightens even as a tendril of hope weaves its way through my middle and squeezes.

He came for me.

Ian twists around, grinning wide. “Boss, glad you could make it.” His eyes drop down to the case. “Is that the lamp?”

He moves forward until he’s directly in front of Julian, but Julian backs up a pace, flipping that long bar over the back of his hand so quick I can barely see it and shoving it into Ian’s chest roughly.

Ian stumbles back, the hand that’s holding his gun coming up to rub at his chest before he points it at Julian, his arm shaking visibly even from where I am across the room.

Panic wraps around me, and I try to scream through the gag, but only a muffled noise comes out. Julian’s eyes flick to me, taking inventory of my body quickly before going back to Ian.

“This is all dreadfully disappointing,” Julian drawls, his gaze going over to where the other man sits, leaned back against the wall like he’s watching a movie. “Hello, Darryn.”

Darryn smirks. “Julian Faraci. Shame we had to meet this way, but it’s business.” He stands up, grabbing the gun he has sitting next to him and walking toward me. “You understand.”

Julian’s head tilts. “Of course.”

Cold metal presses against the side of my head, and tears escape down my cheeks, my chest caving in on itself, because no matter what I’ve gone through in my entire life, I’ve never felt as powerless and weak as I do in this moment.

“Hand over the lamp, Julian. Don’t make me hurt the girl.”

Julian swallows, and I see a flash of panic in his eyes as they meet mine.

My stomach sinks, my lower lip trembling beneath the cloth gag.

Julian walks forward, bypassing Ian completely, and drops the lamp’s case on the floor in the middle of the room. “Have it then.”

“You, you traitor!” Ian yells, kicking the ground. “You’d give up everything we worked for so easily, for her?”