Page 42 of Isaac

Shoving the questions from Dallas down, I return to being Hawk, inhaling the bitter smoke and no longer trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside me.

"Anyone saw you?" Isaac asks.

"They saw someone," I supply. "Not my face." At least I hope so. That second guy was a handful.

Isaac nods.

We remain silent with the drizzle all around us. Our bodies are separated by no more than a few inches of humming, adrenaline-filled space, and cigarette smoke.

"Stay away from Jeremy's sister," Isaac says suddenly, the words cutting through the quiet like a knife through butter. His gaze is steely, unyielding, but there’s softness in his voice, almost as if it’s not an order but a suggestion.

"Jessica?" I raise an eyebrow, the surprise evident in my voice. "I'm just being nice to her, man. We work together." I take another drag of my cigarette, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens under his scrutiny. "I ain't interested in anything more. Just don’t like to be a jerk to a girl."

Isaac continues to stare for a few long moments until the words I don’t expect to hear from him roll off his tongue.

"Then who are you interested in?" He steps closer, erasing any kind of barrier the air creates between us.

The question hangs there, charged and electric. He exhales a cloud of smoke into my face, and I resist the urge to cough, my eyes watering slightly.

"Nobody at the moment," I reply, holding his gaze.

Why does it feel like he's trying to strip me bare, to see right through me?

"Good," Isaac says, his voice low and guarded. "Because what we do here isn't exactly by the law. You understand that, right? You can’t get other people dragged in unless you know you’re set. And you’re not set, Hawk. You’re one foot in and one foot out."

"I get it."

"Do you?" He tilts his head to the side a little and tosses the cigarette butt on the ground, then steps on it with the tip of his black shoe. "You worked for the US fucking government for ten years."

He waits. Waits for something tangible from me. Something that solidifies me as his ally.

"And saw firsthand what this government does." The memories of Afghanistan wash over me, the past of the real man named Dallas Bradley is suddenly intertwined with the past of the non-existent man Cody Smith. And it’s a terrifying feeling. "Sometimes I wonder about all this shit–the laws and the government. I killed people. Over there, overseas. I killed people that simply believed in something different. And I didn’t question it then. I was young and needed a steady paycheck and had only a very specific set of skills I could trade for that check. Now that I’m older I question everything when I see vets begging for food on the side of the road."

Isaac studies me intently, his eyes searching for something within me, some hidden truth perhaps. "You're questioning the system."

"Maybe I am," I admit, my words heavy with vulnerability. "Sometimes it feels like everything's just...broken, you know?"

"Broken or not, we play by our own rules here," Isaac says, his voice softening ever so slightly. "Laws don't mean much when money and power talk louder."

"Guess you're right," I say, taking a final drag of my cigarette before tossing it over the edge of the rooftop. The embers fade into the darkness, a fleeting spark snuffed out by the unforgiving night. "Just wish things could be different."

"Me too," Isaac murmurs, his gaze never leaving mine.

And then he does something–he reaches out and swipes his index finger over my cheek, the one that stings from the cut, collecting some of my blood and rubbing it between his thumb and the tip of the very same index finger that just touched my face.

My breath catches in my throat.

Isaac speaks next, "Would you spill blood for someone who doesn’t give two shits about you or would you spill it for someone who’ll take care of you for the rest of your life like you’re family?"

In that moment, as he glances back at me and our eyes lock again and as I find myself caught in the intensity of Isaac's gaze while the silence stretches between us like an unspoken confession, I feel the pull of some undefinable force tugging at the frayed edges of my heart.

I push the feeling away, bury it deep down where it can't betray me. Because in this world, trust is a luxury neither of us can afford. And as much as I want to give in to the siren call of Isaac's hint of vulnerability, I know that to do so would be to risk everything I've worked for–and that's a price I'm not yet willing to pay.

CHAPTER 14

ISAAC

"Jeremy, listen to me," I say, my voice low and steady, trying to project calm despite the obvious rage boiling under Jeremy's skin. One of us needs to remain collected here. "Jaheim is out of the picture. We're a man down. Hawk has proved himself capable."

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