Page 95 of Reckless Love

“Since we need to follow the legal protocol, and the test has to be completed by an independent, certified lab—which we aren’t—you’re likely looking at two to three weeks to get the results.”

“You don’t send them to the hospital, right?” I ask.

“No. They go off island. But the facility they go to in England handles top-secret government and royal affairs. There will be no leak to your mother.”

“You’ve met Celia Tucker, right?” Stephen lets out a little laugh.

“She has a lot of power and influence on this island, I will give you that. Married into one of the oldest families in Bellerive. I’ve heard she worked extremely hard to earn that Tucker label. She stockpiles secrets and information like other people collect currency, and she’s very protective of the reputation she married into.” Dr. Bennett assesses both of us. “But she’s not all-powerful off the island. Just a normal rich human being.”

I turn to Stephen, and my heart constricts at how beautiful he is to me. Beautiful might not be the right word—the little scars dot his cheek, and he has crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes now. But every mark, every change is dear to me. I want to hold them all close, note down each one so I never miss another subtle or big change, so I never feel like I’m on the outside of his life again.

“We’re doing this, right?” I ask him.

“This is the best chance we have at uncovering the truth. If there’s any truth to be uncovered.”

I turn back to Dr. Bennett and take a deep breath. “What do we need to do?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ava

Since the night Stephen and his sister got into a fight and I bawled in Stephen’s arms, I’ve been sneaking over to his apartment after Landon falls asleep. Landon’s solid sleeping habits are either a credit to how safe he feels in this house, how tired the accident has made him, or how much his return to school has impacted him. There have been no late-night visits.

With Landon’s and Stephen’s DNA samples secured and Landon out like a light in his bedroom, I make my way to Stephen’s apartment. He’s reverted to treating me like glass—forehead or temple kisses, enveloped in a Stephen-shaped cocoon all night, but any attempts to prod us into more are met with his firm resistance. If he wasn’t rock hard while he was turning me down, I’d be wondering if all my renewed feelings are one-sided.

Tonight, though, I’m going to his apartment with a new mission. Not to tease or taunt or for physical closeness. I’m well enough to understand, and it’s time I got some answers.

The doors between the apartments are thrown wide, and a little thrill shoots down my spine, like it always does when I register how welcome I am. We’re on the cusp of sharing everything, and that realization makes me feel light, invincible even. When we were together last time, we kept our relationship so far under the radar that most people outside our tightest circles didn’t even know anything was happening. This time? I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to hide anything.

When I enter his apartment, Stephen is drinking a glass of water, leaning against the counter of what makes up his kitchen. His apartment isn’t small, exactly, but compared to his parents’, it feels more like a hotel suite than a home. Open and impersonal. No sense that he lives here.

“What’s your sister’s apartment like?” I ask as I take his glass of water, sip it, and hand it back.

“The layout is similar. Except she opted for a real one-bedroom instead of this studio style when we were renovating.”

“This bungalow was once all one house, right?”

“Yeah.” Stephen drains his glass and sets it on the counter. “I bought it.”

“Before you moved back?”

He grimaces and stretches his hands out along the counter, leaning back. Stalling, I think.

“Not before you left?” My heart kicks at what that might imply.

“No,” he says, and a hint of a smile tips his lips, as though he can read my thoughts or the expression on my face. “A few months before my accident.”

“Were these renovations always the plan for the house? Three apartments?”

“Yes and no,” he says. He shoves off the counter and takes my hand, leading me toward his bed. He lies down in the middle and then beckons me to come down too.

Without hesitation, I crawl onto the bed and curl around him, resting my head on his shoulder. “What does yes and no mean?” I prod.

“The plan was for Vanessa to move here with my parents and in separate apartments, similar to what it is now. Originally, we were doing the accessibility piece for my mom. I’d planned to come home for a bit to do most of the renovations myself to save money. Then the accident happened, and Owen paid a company to renovate for me.”

“You didn’t want a real bedroom?” I ask.

“Well,” he says, sucking in a deep breath. “Right afterwards, nobody was sure how mobile I’d be. I was… I was pretty broken. Fewer doors meant fewer potential obstacles.”