Page 46 of Wanted

“Stella, is something wrong?” Lionel comes closer and takes me by the shoulders, his thumbs stroking over my shirt. “Hvezda?”

I want him to leave me alone again, to go away. He’s the one playing this evil game, he’s confusing me and messing with my sanity. The best thing is for me to leave, to return home. Lionel can arrange our divorce without any problems, I would sign anything to return to the tranquility of my old life.

“Stella,” he insists, shaking me a little. “What’s happening?”

“The phone…” Those words leave my lips in a shaky whisper. That should be enough.

Lionel takes the device off the counter. His eyes widen when he realizes what’s in there, using his fingers to move around the screen and take a closer look.

“What’s your game?” I ask when the air fills my lungs again, he sets the phone aside and takes me back in his arms. “Why are you doing this?”

I move, trying to break free from him, but his strong hands are on my back, and he won’t let me go. A thousand thoughts cross my mind, but none of them seem logical, all of them are too crazy to consider, they have to be. I’ve fallen into Stella’s Crazyland, the only thing missing is that hatter and for the rabbit to appear.

This joke isn’t funny, and I want it to end right now.

“Listen to me,” he says in a low voice, but his tone is authoritative. “Of course I didn’t send that message, that’s not my email address. The-Lionel-Kral, that’s definitely not my account.”

He removes a hand from my back to find something in the pocket of his jeans, then passes me his phone with the email application open for me to take a look at.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You could have sent it from your computer or entrusted one of your many employees to do it.”

That’s one of the theories spinning in my head, like a tornado about to lift me off the ground.

I push on his chest, urging him to release me, I’m willing to hit his shoulder—the place where he was injured—to get out.

“Let me go, Lionel, please.” The air from the room is gone, leaving a thick, dark atmosphere behind it.

I need to breathe, I need to free myself.

I need my normal life back.

“Let’s find out what kind of shit this is,” he mutters as he lets me go. “I’m going to call Jackson.”

A bitter laugh leaves my mouth. “And he’ll come running because he’s at your beck and call?”

Lionel looks at me disapprovingly, clearly hurt about the comment I made. “He’s not at my beck and call,” he states. “But I hired his security company, and a situation has come up, and I think it’s safer for him to come here to talk than us going to his office downtown at Cole Security Forces.”

Looking at it that way, it makes sense.

“Also, Jackson lives nearby. He bought the house on the other side of the hill when I started developing this community. It’s difficult to see it from here. The driveway is private, and the man has taken it upon himself to make it very secure. But first…”

Lionel releases me from his embrace but takes my hand in his, goes to the refrigerator, takes one of the water bottles, removes the lid, and immediately puts it between my fingers.

“Unless you want something stronger,” he says with a small smile. “There is some whiskey in one of the drawers in my office.”

Not a chance, now more than ever I need to keep my head clear, well as much as possible considering the circumstances.

As soon as Lionel goes to call Jackson, I take the opportunity to rush up the stairs, as fast as my legs allow me to.

I have to get out of here, and I have to do it before I turn completely nuts.

I brought very few things here with me, so packing my bags won’t take long, and the least of my worries is wrinkled clothing. My mental health comes before anything else.

It’s better to say a coward ran from here than a brave one dies here. I prefer to leave, not caring what he thinks.

“What are you doing?” he asks when he sees me in the dressing room throwing things into the small suitcase. I don’t bother raising my head to look at him, because I’m sure that would undermine my determination.

I need to get out of here.

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