Page 17 of A Twisted Gift

Once I close Raina in, I quickly get into the driver’s seat. I don’t want to stay here for a second longer than I have to.

“Where are we going to go?” she asks as I gently press on the accelerator, not wanting the tires to slip in the slush.

“My childhood home. It’s safe for now, until you adjust.”

The driveway is a large circle, taking us right past the front door. As we do, I notice the butler running down the steps, waving and shouting. I almost gun it on instinct, but that would alert security, so I slow to a stop.

“No,” Raina whispers. “No, Erik, please don’t stop. What if—”

“It’s all right,” I say, my voice even despite the tightness expanding in my chest. “If they knew you were in here, they wouldn’t send the butler after us.” They’d send security. Men who wouldn’t hesitate to gun me down and take Raina away from me again.

As the butler nears, I roll down my window, realizing there’s something flopping in his hand.Gloves.

“I forgot these earlier, sir. My apologies.”

“Thank you.” I take them, giving him a thin smile. “Have a good night.”

He nods, not even glancing at Raina before turning back toward the house. We don’t run into any issues at the gate, and then we’re free.She’sfree, for the first time in her life.

With one hand on the wheel, I reach over and squeeze Raina’s leg. Her fingers trace the rose tattoo on the inside of my right wrist. I got it years ago when I realized I’d never be able to escape her. That I didn’t want to anymore.

“A couple of the guards have these,” she murmurs.

“What, tattoos?”

“Is that what they’re called? How did it get there?”

“Ink,” I say simply. “An artist put it there with a machine.”

“A machine?” she asks, horrified. “Did it hurt?”

I chuckle. “Yes. But it was worth it.”

This moment has made all my pain worth it.

My fingers wrap around Raina’s, and she doesn’t move her hand away. This, the lock on her door, the way no one knew about her until two weeks ago—it has me wondering. Worrying. How often has she received physical affection, if at all?

It’s a short drive, not even five minutes, to circle the Montgomery estate and travel up the hill to my parents’ home. Raina gasps when I pull into the driveway, the dark Victorian house towering above us.

“It was you.You’rethe one turning on the light.”

“You noticed?”

“I couldn’t stop wondering who moved in. I made up so many stories in my head.” Realization crosses her features. “Wait, this was your home? As a child?”

“It was.”

“Until your family moved?”

My eyes close as a sharp pain dances through my chest. I can’t answer her, stuck between a lie and a truth too harsh for tonight. I pull into the garage and put the car in park. “Let’s go inside.”

She watches me open my door, copying me to open hers as well. But when she tries to slide out, her seatbelt stops her. “Oh! How…”

“Just press this button.” I show her, and the belt clicks free.

“Thank you.”

When I push my door shut, she does the same to hers, and I realize she’s watching me on purpose. God, of course she is. She’s never been outside the walls of her father’s home. Everything from here on out is a mystery to her.

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