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“When you meet up with Rook, he has news from Stiel about Jules’s mother and manager. He has information you’ll want to know.”
I give him a firm, grateful nod. Dredd turns back, then pauses a second time.
“You know, you look at her the same way we all used to look at the Keystone.”
“My purpose has not changed, Dredd.” Heat rises in my chest, and I command myself to restrain it. “We will get the Keystone any way we have to.”
A distant look passes over his face, one that turns up the corners of his mouth just the tiniest amount. He charges out of the cave mouth with Julianna held firmly in his grasp. I watch as he launches himself off the cliff’s edge and soars into the dark night sky.
ChapterTwelve
JULES
Idon’t know how I end up in Titan’s big bed at the penthouse, but I wake up alone. It’s clear from the cool sheets that Titan hasn’t spent the night next to me. Rubbing at my chest, I try to rid myself of the empty pain that swells inside me.
I feel well used as I shift on the bed. Pulling back the sheets, I spot tiny pinprick bruises dotting my stomach and thighs where Titan had held me last night. He pounded into me again and again, holding me in his sharp talons, but careful to never press too deep. My pussy clenches on emptiness, sore and needy for my monster.
Sunlight streams in through the massive windows, and I imagine what he would’ve looked like lying next to me. Golden light would bounce off the sharp corners of his stone skin like a statue at sunrise. I wonder if it would heat his skin like stone too and if I could snuggle back into his warmth.
I shiver and pull myself back to reality. Titan isn’t here. He’s no doubt focused on his own agenda, just as I should be.
From my position, I search the room for my phone and spot my bag on the adjacent leather club chair. I twist, swinging my legs out from under the covers too quickly.
“Oh, Jesus motherfucking Christ… oooh god…”
The dormant aches and pains roar to life. Standing, I have to grab onto the bedside table for support as my knees threaten to give out. My stomach muscles and thighs cry out in pain.
If Titan saw me right now, he’d be horrified. He’d likely send me to a spa for an all-day massage and never fuck me again. I’d take the spa trip, but never being fucked again by a monster built with little bumps that hit my G-spot just right? Not going to happen.
Cautiously, I move to the club chair and pull my phone from my purse.
There’s another text from Safiya, a photo of her and her sugar daddy in Monaco. I smile as I note how happy they both look on the back of his yacht, and I’m hit with the overwhelming ache to see my friend. I send her a photo of my Louboutin haul, knowing that she’s the only one who can understand the sense of security and relief the luxury goods give me.
Begrudgingly, I check to see who else has contacted me. There are five text messages and three voicemails from my mother. I grip the phone tightly in my hand, finger raised above the screen, daring myself to call her. Instead, I look for a distraction.
Wrapped in a sheet, I pad quietly to the doorway and look down the hallway. I hear no one and see no one. It’s well past noon and even Eden is missing. I continue down the hall, looking in each room as I make my way to the library. All empty.
I jump as my phone rings, echoing against the high ceilings and open floor plan. I know it’s my mother this time, and I let it ring. I try to ignore it, but I know if I don’t eventually answer, she’ll just keep calling. I wait till the last ring before I finally pick up.
“Kathleen.”
“Honey.” My mother sounds like she’s on the verge of tears, but I stay strong. “I was so worried about you. You didn’t respond to any of my messages.”
“I’m fine,” I choke out, my throat suddenly feeling tight.
“I don’t want to fight, I promise, Jules. I just haven’t seen my daughter in a long time.” I can feel the tension in her voice.
“You know why.”
“Yes, I know, and I don’t want to get into that, but I want to see you.” Her voice is gentle but nervous. “I was going through your acting stuff. I found that award you won and some props that they let you keep from one of your shows. Also—”
“I don’t need those things,” I say sharply, and she abruptly quiets.
An uncomfortable silence stretches between us. It’s in the quiet when all I can hear is her breathing that I remember how we once were and what it was like to share a bed together in the motel in those early days, listening to her sleep because I was too nervous for my audition the next morning to do the same.
“I’d like to see you, honey.” Her voice drops down to a whisper.
“Okay.” It’s not an agreement, just confirmation I heard what she said. My stomach twists in knots as I try to decipher where this conversation will lead. “Why?”
