"D–did he know about you?" I whisper.
Stewart throws his head back and laughs loudly. "Why do you think my mother's on the Board of Directors at T.I.? He thought he was doing right by her, giving her a cushy job." Stewart shakes his head, his voice hardening. "When I finished college, he put me in charge of security at the estate. I got to stand at the fucking gate to the mansion, watching his perfect little family while he groomed Alexis for the job that should have been mine."
"That's why you're doing this?" I demand, my voice rising. "You murdered him because you're jealous? You tried to kill your own sister because you want her job?"
"No," he snaps. "I never tried to kill her!"
"Bullshit."
"I swear I didn't," he says, holding up one hand in a Boy Scout's promise. "I just wanted to shake Matthew up, convince him to pull Lexi out of T.I. and put me in." He snorts. "Instead, he ran to the FBI."
"So you killed him?" My head is spinning. I've never been so horrified in my life.
How could he kill his own father for a job?
What kind of monster is he?
Part of me wants to launch myself over the back of his seat and put my hands around his neck. He's ruined so many lives for no reason! Killed innocent people out of sheer jealousy.
"He found out it was me and confronted me. I tried to tell him my mother had nothing to do with it, but he threatened to send her to prison. She was innocent," Stewart says. The car passes under a light and I notice he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly his hands are white. "Do you think he cared though? He was going to go to Corbit and tell him that my mother was responsible for the attacks on the caravans in Africa. I had to stop him."
"I can't believe you," I whisper.
"You have no idea what it's like," he snaps at me. "You weren't even his kid and he took you in. He treated you like a princess, but he wouldn't even tell my sisters that I existed. When Caitlyn died, I thought maybe he'd finally come clean, but he didn't. He gave me a fucking job as his security guard."
I shake my head slowly back and forth, too stunned to speak. I don't even know what I'd say if I could. I never saw this coming. Even after Jared told me everything, I still believed whoever was behind the attacks would be some person I barely knew. Not one that Matthew welcomed into his own home year after year. Not Stewart.
"When you came running home from Italy, I thought things were finally going in my favor. Corbit was so busy fucking you, he didn't have time to play Lexi's keeper. All I had to do was wait it out, threaten Katrina and Madeline a few times, and she would have agreed to anything. Instead, your idiot boyfriend tried to kill Madeline, and you ran off." Stewart swears loudly, like this really pisses him off. "Corbit's been a real son of a bitch since you left, you know? He's determined to put an end to this once and for all so he can win you back. He even forced Lexi to pretend they were engaged to get everyone to the mansion tonight. Do you know he planned to tell the truth?"
"What?" I mumble, my heart in my throat. Jared and Lexi were going to risk everything? Tell the world what happened to Matthew so Jared could be with me? I can't… I can't even… What in the hell?
"He was so sure whoever was responsible would flee when they realized that the FBI's been working inside T.I. for the last year. That they'd fuck up and he could finally put an end to this." Stewart chuckles again. "Too damn bad your boyfriend showed up before he got to make that announcement. I would have loved to hear it."
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Ex–boyfriend. Whatever. My point is: I had to come up with another plan."
"What plan?"
"You," Stewart says, whipping into the right lane ahead of a semi.
"Me?"
"We're going to see just how far Corbit's willing to go to keep you safe." Stewart meets my gaze in the rearview mirror again. "All he has to do is convince Lexi to announce that I'm Matthew's rightful heir. Once she steps down and I'm sworn in as the new CEO, Corbit gets you back."
"Lexi will never do that!"
Stewart glances at me again. "Toby really fucked with your head, didn't he?"
I glare at him. I don't even know what he's talking about anymore. I'm tired, I'm cold, and I'm terrified he's going to kill me despite the insanity flying from his mouth. There's no way in hell Lexi will hand T.I. over to a murderer.
"Lexi's felt awful since the minute she ran you off. Right about now, she'll do just about anything to make amends with you, even if that means handing over T.I. to me. If she doesn't, Katrina and Corbit might kill her. I've never seen so much tension in the mansion before." He flips on the blinker and whips the SUV into the exit lane.
We're well outside of San Francisco now, in an area I'm not at all familiar with.
"You're lying," I whisper.
"'Fraid not," he says. His voice hardens. "You aren't even family and they fawn all over you."
I can't help the laugh that escapes my lips. He sounds jealous of me – like he'd trade places with me in an instant. He has to be insane because nothing else makes sense. My life is a living hell. It has been for years. If he wants it, he can have it.
"What's so funny?"
"You." I laugh again. "My mother woke up one morning and decided she didn't want me anymore. She packed up her stuff and fled without looking back. I've spent the last seven years of my life living on Matthew's charity because he felt sorry for me. I came back because my boyfriend spent two years abusing me and I had nowhere else to go. Literally nowhere. Meanwhile, you have a mother who loves you and a father that did the best he could to take care of you both, and it's not good enough for you. You murdered a good man because you're a selfish bastard."
"Shut up," he snaps, slamming on the brakes at the red light at the end of the exit ramp.
"Boo-freaking-hoo, your life isn't perfect. At least you have a family! You could have told Lexi that you're her brother. She would have happily handed T.I. to you had you told her the truth. Instead, you murdered your own father and terrorized your sisters. Lexi will never forgive you for that. Ever." I'm so angry at him, I can't help myself. "She will never hand T.I. over to you now. You don't deserve it."
Stewart turns on me in the blink of an eye.
Before I can move, his hand is around my throat and I can't breathe. The crazed look on his face is terrifying.
I think he's going to kill me right here.
He takes a swing at me.
My head slams into the window so hard, stars rupture behind my eyes.
And then the world goes dark.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sky Full of Stars
When I come to again, I don't know where I am. The entire right side of my face hurts. I reach up to touch it and moan when I feel blood on my fingertips. My cheek is swollen. A migraine would be better than the painful pulsing in my head.
I'm woozy… dizzy and nauseated.
I push myself up into a seating position anyway, trying to figure out where I am.
Glancing around, I groan when the movement makes me head feel like it's going to explode.
I'm in a bedroom of some sort. The blue comforter on the bed beneath me matches the curtains hanging over the one window on the far wall. A massive dresser sits beneath it. The closet and bedroom doors are positioned on the opposite wall. A book shelf and a pretty blue armchair sit against the other wall. There's a bathroom tucked into the corner.
I grab ahold of the headboard and drag myself to my feet.
"Oh!" I cry out. My head hurts so badly, for a minute, I think I'm going to pass out. I take slow, even breaths and wait for the feeling to recede. When it does, I shuffle towards the bedroom door, groping for whatever I can find to help keep me upright as I sway and stumble. The knob turns in my hand, but the door doesn't open. I'm locked in.
Making my way to the window, I realize I'm on the second floor. I can't see any other houses, no landmarks… nothing. And the window is nailed shut. I drop the curtains and sweep my gaze across the room, but find nothing of use.
No phone. No weapon. No hint of where I am or where Stewart is or how the hell I'm going to get out of here.
There's no way his plan is going to work. As soon as Jared figures out Stewart's behind all of this, he'll go to prison. If he doesn't already know that, he will soon enough.
And when he does, I'm screwed.
Why did I have to antagonize him? Only an idiot taunts a psycho.
"Good job," I mutter to myself and shuffle toward the bathroom. I don't even want to look at myself in the mirror, but I do anyway. My right cheek is black and blue. There's dried blood around a small gash across my cheekbone. Fresh blood still trickles from the wound. Mascara runs in black streaks down my cheeks. My hair is a rat's nest. And my pupils are dilated.
Do I have a concussion?
I turn the water on full blast and reach for the hand towel to clean myself up. It takes everything in me not to cry out when I press the towel to my cheek. Pain shoots through the entire side of my face again, bringing tears to my eyes.
I want to kill Jared for telling me to go with Stewart. And then I want to kiss him.
What am I going to do?
I rinse my mouth out and use the restroom before stumbling back to the bedroom and carefully opening the closet. It's empty, but there's a stack of t-shirts and sweatpants in the dresser. I hesitate for a long moment, deliberating, and then grab a shirt and a pair of sweats. They're about four sizes too big for me, but my dress is still wet, and I'm in too much pain to deal with freezing to death, too.
Changing without anything touching my face proves to be a challenge. I'm in tears before I manage to get the t-shirt over my head. My face is on fire, and my arm aches. I eye the bed, tempted to lie down until my head stops hurting. I'm not nearly that stupid though. If I go to sleep, I may not wake up again.
There's no way in hell Lexi is just going to hand T.I. to Stewart after what he's done. He's going to kill me.
Fear threatens to choke me. I push it away, refusing to think too hard about what's happening. I don't have time to fall apart. I'm on my own. And I don't know if anyone even realizes I'm missing yet. For all I know, Jared thinks Stewart took me home.
It could be days before anyone notices I'm gone. Weeks.
No. Jared will find me. He will.
"Please," I whisper, making my way to the armchair. "Please don't leave me here, Jared."
I don't know how long I've been here. It seems like it's been years, but it's still dark outside. I fight to stay awake, using every last bit of energy I have to keep my eyes open and trained on the door. Stewart isn't going to take me by surprise again.
Footsteps sound outside. A floorboard creeks.
I'm on my feet before the doorknob rattles.
There's nowhere to go though. Nowhere to hide.
I stand there with my back against the wall and wait.
"You're awake," Stewart mutters when he steps into the room.
"Let me go, please," I whisper, licking my lips.
He pushes the door closed behind him and steps toward me. I have to fight not to cower away from him. He stops a few feet away and sets a bottle of water and two pills on the bookshelf.
"Take these," he says.
I glance at him and then at the pills.
"It's ibuprofen. For your head." He actually looks guilty, like he regrets hitting me.
I refuse to let that sway me.
"How long am I going to be here?" I demand.
He barely spares me a glance before stepping from the room.
"Stewart! Please!" I yell.
He doesn't answer.
I pace across the room – eleven steps to the window and another nine to the bathroom. I've made the same circuit so many times I can do it with my eyes closed now. It's been two… maybe three days? I can't even remember. I've tried to escape twice.
I'm too scared to try a third time.
My ribs hurt where Stewart grabbed me last time, squeezing so tight, I think he may have broken one of them. The right side of my face is still one massive bruise. My fingertips are bruised and raw here I tried to dig the nails out of the window. I'm exhausted, but I'm too scared to sleep for long. I don't know when Stewart's going to appear.
He comes at random, popping inside to deliver food, and then disappearing again. He's barely said two words to me. I'm losing my mind. I don't know if anyone even knows I'm gone yet. Surely they do though. Surely they've noticed that Stewart hasn't shown up for work in a few days, and that I haven't tried to retrieve my purse with my phone and keys.
Someone has to be coming for me… right?
God, I hope so.
"Please, Jared," I whisper. "Please."
I'm terrified I'm never going to get out of here.
I wake up to the sound of raised voices below. Someone – a woman – is yelling. I leap from the bed and scramble across the floor to the bedroom door. It's still locked. I press my ear to it, trying to hear over the frantic pounding of my heart.
"What are you thinking?" the woman yells.
She sounds as if she's crying.
Stewart mumbles something, but I can't hear what.
"You'll never get away with this, son."
Son.
Stewart's mom is here!
"Help!" I scream, beating on the door. "Please help me, Ms. Paulson!"
His mom stops talking.
I scream until my voice gives out, but she doesn't come to rescue me. No one does.
"Please, let me go," I beg Stewart.
He's standing across the room, another tray of food in his hands. His eyes are bleary, glassy, like he sleeps less than I do. His hair's a mess, and he hasn't changed in a while. I've never seen him so disheveled.
"I won't tell anyone you took me. Please, Stewart." I'm so tired, I want to curl up in a ball and cry. I think I've been locked in this room for years. Stewart's mom came and went a full day ago. I haven't seen or heard another person. I really am losing my mind. My entire body hurts and I'm feverish… I think I need a doctor.
I have to get out of here.
"It won't be long now," he mutters, sliding the tray onto the top of the dresser. He turns to look at me.
And then he's gone again.
I dive for the door, trying to rip it free of his hands before he gets it closed, but I'm too slow. Too weak. He slams it in my face.
The lock turns.
"No!" I beat on it, screaming and crying. "No!"
I'm burning in hell. My body feels strange, like it belongs to someone else. The fever is raging through me… I think my cheek is infected. Or maybe it's the rib. Or maybe I've just realized that no one is coming for me and I'm going to die here. I haven't seen Stewart in… a full day. Maybe two.
I'm not sure.
My lips are cracked. I hurt everywhere.
"Please," I mumble, tossing and turning on the bed. "Please."
I'm not sure who I'm talking to or even what I'm asking.
I just want this to be over.
"Let's go," Stewart says, shaking me awake.
I blink, staring up at him. It's dark out again, the only light coming from the bulb overhead. I'm freezing cold. For a minute, I think I'm delirious, seeing things.
"Come on," Stewart says again, reaching out to haul me to my feet.
I stumble and sway. I don't know what's wrong with me, but my body doesn't want to work right. I can’t breathe properly. Maybe I'm in shock. No one's coming for me. I'll never see Jared again. Or Kit or Maddi or Lexi. I'll never finish college. Or live the life I've started building for myself.
"Shit," Stewart curses when my legs give out beneath me.
He scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing and carries me from the room. I'm so relieved to be out of my prison, I want to cry. I try to ask him where we're going, but all I manage is a weak croak. I try to look around, to memorize where we are, but everything is turning black.
We don't even make it down the stairs before I pass out.
Someone's screaming, wo
rdless agony ripping from their lips in a shrill outburst. The sound comes over and over again, one scream bleeding into another. Everything is dark and I don't know where it's coming from, but I wish it would stop. My head hurts and I'm tired. So tired. I just want to sleep.
"Savannah!"
I come to with a jolt. It takes a moment for my eyes to obey my command to open. When they do, I realize I must really be dying because Jared's standing over me, pain and tears in those cool jade eyes of his. He hasn't shaved lately. His expression is haunted, terrified, but he's so beautiful. My own personal angel. The sky acts like a backdrop behind him, the heavens full of stars.
I try to reach out for him, but I can't.
"Stay with me, beautiful girl," he whispers. "Please stay with me, baby."
I try… but I can't.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Skyscraper
"How is she?" someone whispers.
I think it's Chris. I can't open my eyes to see though. They're too heavy.
"The fever has broken, but she hasn't woken up yet." Jared sounds like he's in hell.
Jared….
Am I dreaming?
"Damn."
"How are the girls?"
"How do you think? They didn't even know they had a brother, now they're going to have to bury him." Chris sighs. "Lucky son of a bitch."
The girls? A brother?
Memory trickles in… they're talking about Lexi and Kit and Maddi. And Stewart.
He's dead?
I think I should feel bad about that, but I don't. I'm relieved.
Is that weird?
"Has his mother been released?" Jared asks.
"Yes. They cut her loose this morning." Chris pauses. "Do you really believe she had nothing to do with this?"
"Yeah," Jared says, "I do. She cared about Matthew; she wouldn't have hurt him. She never stopped to question why Stewart wanted information on T.I. or what he was doing with it. I don't think it ever crossed her mind that he was selling the intel to loyalists passing it along to the militias."
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