Page 98 of Twisted (Never After)

Ten hours on a plane and three in this Jeep with a random man driving us, and my mind still feels alert like I’ve been shot in the heart with adrenaline.

Or maybe it’s just pain.

My brain wars from one extreme to the other, split between wanting to smooth things over with Julian and reminding myself that he’s the reason everything went to shit in the first place.

And my stomach is already tied in a thousand knots from the thought of seeing Aidan again after so much has happened and figuring out who the hell this mystery texter is.

Not that I think they’ll be awake right now. It’s two in the morning wherever it is that we are, which I couldn’t tell you if you paid me to. I’ve never been to Egypt, and this trip isn’t exactly for sightseeing.

With every mile we drive, the nausea grows stronger, my legs shake faster, and the nerves in my stomach jumble a little more.

Julian’s been cold and aloof since we’ve landed.

Since he asked if I was his.Again.

And honestly, howcouldhe ask that?

Even worse, how could I want to tell him yes?

It isn’t fair. Not when he’s taken away the choice entirely. I’m his whether I want to be or not.

And until that situation resolves, how can he expect me to figure out what’s real and what’s some fucked- up version of Stockholm syndrome?

But this Julian, this man sitting next to me with eyes like obsidian stone and a scowl that tries to turn you to ash, this is the Julian I knew as a girl.

I hadn’t realized how much he had changed with me until he flipped the switch back.

A swell of emotion surges in my chest, caught between wanting to beg him to justlookat me and being thankful for the respite, because if he’s out of the equation, I won’t have to balance the way I’m confused over him with the anger I feel at the things he’s done.

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 somanyof 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 matterwherewe are because you’re not to leave this building.”