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I pick up the jacket he tossed off before getting on the cross and stuffing his handkerchief back in its pocket. My black dress hides the blood well, unlike her pale lavender one. I guide her arms into the jacket and wrap it tightly around her body to cover the mess.
My heart has never beaten as fast as it does now. Exiting the room and weaving through the club covered in blood from the man I just murdered, I have to half-carry Stella back to her villa, and I hope it just looks like I am walking home a very drunk friend.
Luckily, she didn’t lose her key in all the chaos and disorientation. She’s barely awake as I drag her to the first bedroom. I want to get her in the shower, at least try to wash some of this blood off her so she doesn’t wake up terrified, maybe even dispose of her bloody clothes myself so she isn’t further implicated.
Her phone chimes and I look at the new message.
Lochlan:
I’ll be home in five . . . unless I stop at the kitchen and try to convince them to give me two slices of that lava cake to go. And listen, if you’re not awake when I get home, I can’t be held responsible if your piece is gone in the morning.
I drop it like it’s a live grenade. I can’t be here when Lochlan gets back.
Stella is already passed out, sprawled out on the bed. I hate to do it, but it’s my only good option. So, I rotate her body into a half-normal sleeping position and cover her with the duvet.
As I hurry out of her room and the villa in sheer panic, I latch onto one comforting thought:
Neither Stella nor anyone else will ever have to live through hell at the hands of JBM.
Chapter 31
Lochlan Fox is Not a Gentleman
Stella
Juliette finishes talking, and I am left aching. My heart hurts for her. It hurts for what she endured. It sympathizes with what she was driven to do. It cries for what she saved me from. But it’s also being ripped apart every second that Lochlan is on the operating table.
There’s a heavy silence as I am unable to come up with any adequate words. I look down at the silver handcuffs securing Juliette’s wrist to the rail of her bed. “Jesus,” I scoff. Now knowing what Jeffery did to her, it feels like a cruel joke to keep her in them.
I take a key out of my bikini top under the set of scrubs a nurse gave me. She looks at me, concerned, as I unlock the cuffs. “Can you do that?”
Confused, I say, “It’s not like you’re in tip-top shape to run away.”
She lowers her voice like she’s trying to be discreet. “No, I mean, you can’t just release someone under arrest willy nilly. I’m sure there’s protocol or something. I don’t want to put you in another bad situation. Please lock them again, I’m fine.”
“You’re not under arrest, Juliette. If you were, why would I have the key?”
She groans and rubs the bridge of her nose as if in pain. She drops her hand but keeps one of her eyes squinted. “Wait, why haven’t I been arrested?”
I take a deep breath, sighing heavily. “That’s a long story . . .”
I give her a rough overview of the events following the murder, mainly focusing on Clark’s reasons for not getting the police involved. I’m judicious about what I reveal about the Foxes, keeping it vague, saying they’re the type of people that like to work things out among themselves. What I don’t tell her is that “working things out” usually ends up with someone dying.
We both startle when a crazed voice in the hallway yells, “Where is she?”
My heart skips a beat as I recognize it’s Cash, and multiple different screams follow him, shouting his question a second time.
“Shit,” I say under my breath and jump to my feet. “Lock the door behind me.” Then I rush out.
Cash is at the nurses’ desk, waving a gun around. Oh, boy.
I call his name from the other end of the hallway. When his head whips in my direction, he looks like a bull staring down a waving flag. I can see in his face the moment he registers it’s me. He lowers his pistol and takes off toward me. I run to meet him in the middle.
He tucks his gun away before wrapping me in a hug so tight, it’s like he’s trying to suffocate me. After a few seconds, he releases me with a relieved sigh. “I am glad to see you safe.”
I nod with a watery smile. “It’s really fucking good to see you too.”
He steps back, taking my face between his hands, and locks his gaze intently with mine. “Where is she, Stella?”
