Page 62 of A Twisted Gift

It’s an hour drive from my parents’ home to the airport, and on the way, Raina falls asleep. It’s been a long day for her, so I’m not surprised. I carry her onto my private jet and get her tucked into bed. After talking to the crew, I join her, holding her from takeoff to landing.

My driver is waiting for us at my home airport, always reliable. I load Raina into the backseat of my car. She’s still dead asleep, and I wonder if she’ll be irritated at me for not waking her up for her first flight. I can’t find it in me to regret my decision, though. It’s been a long day, and there will be plenty of opportunities to fly in our future.

When Arnold sees that Raina is sleeping, he nods silently and refrains from any type of conversation. He’s always been like that, observing without a word and fading into the background when he knows he needs to.

I feel god awful asking him to pick us up on Christmas Eve—well, early Christmas morning at this point—but I’ll make sure he’s paid extra. Hell, I’ll probably throw in an all-expenses-paid-vacation for him and his wife. God knows he deserves it.

When we pull into my driveway, the first thing I notice is the black SUV parked near the house. When we got off the plane, I got a text from one of the men I hired that they’d arrived, but I feel much better now that I have eyes on their car—and, more importantly, the gifts inside.

Arnold pulls right up to the front steps. Elliot, Rhett, and Oliver climb out of their SUV just as I do the same. They’re an intimidating group, their every movement intentional. It’s one of the reasons I hired them for this. They’re the best of the best.

“Arnold will show you where to put the gifts inside,” I tell them. “And then I’ll be down to discuss the rest of the job.”

They nod and pop the trunk, revealing Raina’s presents. Still perfectly intact, thank fuck. I’m doing everything I can to make sure she has a perfect Christmas.

As I undo Raina’s seatbelt, she moans softly, probably a reaction to the cold. Still, I find it amusing thatthisis what wakes her, not the plane landing or our vehicle rolling to a stop.

Slipping my arms underneath her, I carry her up the steps. “One minute, little rose,” I murmur to her. “I’ll get you all warm again in bed.”

Arnold, ever the saint, has already turned the lights on, so I take Raina straight upstairs. My home is much more welcoming than my parent’s house. Bigger, too, although I didn’t buy it for its size. It’s built in a similar style to the Montgomery’s, and it felt right. A way to feel closer to Raina.

If it reminds her too much of her childhood, though, I’ll move in a heartbeat.

I get Raina tucked into my bed, waking her up in the process. Her eyes are barely open, but she reaches for me, her fingers tracing over my scar. If it was anyone else, I’d shy away, but there’s something about the way she touches it that’s changed that for me. It’s not out of fascination or curiosity. Not pity, either.

No, I think she sees it as one of the many pieces of our story. Proof that everything her father did to keep us apart wasn’t enough. A promise that I’ll always find my way back to her.

“I love you,” she whispers, already drifting off again.

“I love you,” I whisper back, kissing her forehead.

I leave her with a faint smile on her lips, closing the door softly behind me. By the time I’ve made my way downstairs, all of the presents are under my Christmas tree, and Elliot, Rhett, and Oliver are all standing in my living room.

“Is that herInstagram?”Rhett asks with annoyance. He snatches Oliver’s phone from his hands. “Jesus fuck, it is.”

“Please tell me you didn’t follow her,” Elliot groans.

“Of course I didn’t!” Oliver grabs his phone back. “I know how to stalk in silence.”

“How’d you even find her?” Rhett asks, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Hiding my smile, I watch them silently. For a half-second, I wonder who this woman is to them, noting a familiar glint in Oliver’s eyes. It looks like I’m not the only one grappling with an incurable obsession.

As if I want to fight it.

“What, you think I’m incapable of doing it on my own?” Oliver asks defensively.

“We don’t even know her last name,” Elliot points out, glancing over Oliver’s shoulder. “Well, wedidn’t.”

“Fine! Finn helped me.” Shoving his phone in his pocket, Oliver crosses his arms. “Not that it’s done much good. She doesn’t post very often.”

“You’ve gotta be careful, Ol,” Elliot says gently. “You know we can’t—”

I clear my throat, and all three men snap to attention.

“Erik,” Rhett says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.”

“Thank you for helping me out on such short notice—and around a holiday.”

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