Page 25 of Saving Stella

“You said you were ready,” his father said nonchalantly.

Cliff rubbed at his jaw. The man before him wasn’t Dad right now—he was Connor Forrest, Lone Wolf’s chief trainer. He was tough on the agents because he had to be. They could be sent anywhere and into any situation, and they had to be prepared. It was his job to make sure all the agents had the proper training so they could come back in one piece.

Rolling his shoulders back, Cliff let out a snort. “All right. Bring it on.”

This time, Cliff managed to dodge his father’s uppercut and got in a jab of his own. They continued to fight for the next thirty minutes with no breaks, and they didn’t just stick to boxing. They kicked, grappled, and used any style of fighting—and they even used dirty tricks. Out in the field, they could be fighting for their own survival, and no one followed rules.

By the end, Connor had him in a sleeper hold, which Cliff couldn’t free himself from, so he tapped out.

“Sloppy,” Connor spat as he released Cliff. “Your head’s not on straight.” His tone shifted as concern marred his face. “What’s the matter, son?”

He considered lying to his father, but that would be no use. “I don’t know.” That was as close to the truth as he could get without revealing to him the real reason his head was screwed up: all he could think about these days was Stella. Her eyes, her mouth, her smell, her body.

“Your wolf’s acting up.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve always been able to control it; I’ve never seen anyone more in tune with his wolf than you, save for your Uncle Jackson. Did something happen? Or was it the mages?”

“That was months ago,” he reminded his father, though he wasn’t likely to forget their final battle with the enemies that could have easily wiped out their existence had they lost. “I’m fine, Dad. Just … doing some thinking.”

“Maybe you need a vacation. You haven’t taken a break in years with your work here and GI.”

“I’m fine, Dad,” he insisted. “I—” A familiar ringtone from his phone had his entire body going on full alert—it was the ringtone he used for Charley. He practically dove toward his phone to answer it.

“What happened?” he bellowed.

“You saw the news?” came Charley’s reply.

“News? She’s on the news already?”

“She?” his sister asked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Stella,” he bit out. “What are you talking about?”

“Us. I mean, Devon and me.” Charley’s voice shook unnaturally. “Our relationship got leaked. And the baby, too.”

His father had rushed to his side. “That your sister?”

Cliff nodded and put his phone on speaker. “Dad’s here.”

“What happened?” Connor asked.

“The press found out about us,” Charley began. “And before you ask, no, I don’t know how, but probably someone on the tour overhead us or saw us or something and blabbed to the press. Anyway, they ambushed us as we were on the way out, and now we’re trapped at home. Devon’s on a conference call with his team now, trying to figure out what to do.”

“Do you need me to come get you?” their father offered. “I can ask your Uncle Daric for help.” Their Aunt Meredith’s husband was a powerful warlock who could teleport to and from any place in the world.

“No, I’ll be fine here,” she said. “And Mom already knows, so she’s bracing herself.”

Their mother, Evie King, was a famous singer, actress and songwriter, and Charley herself had once been a teen superstar. The press would eventually connect the dots, because growing up, they hadn’t exactly hidden their connection to each other. “And I called to tell you, Cliff. In case … they bring up Vegas.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me. How about Stella? Do they know about her yet?” His chest tightened, thinking about those fucking paparazzi circling her like sharks smelling blood in the water. He knew what that was like as he’d experienced it himself in the aftermath of his own scandal.

“Not yet, thank God, and Devon’s gonna make sure that information is locked up tight.” Her breath hitched. “But, I need your help, Cliff.”

“Anything you need.”

“Great! We were supposed to meet Stella at Carnegie Hall. Devon arranged a private tour for the three of us. She’s on her way now, but I can’t reach her phone.”

“She’s probably in the subway.” Dammit, why did she have to be so stubborn about using the train?

“That’s what I’m thinking. So, could you go meet her at Carnegie Hall? Just to make sure she’s okay?”