Page 3 of Vision of Truth

“Mother died in an accident a year ago.” Gus said, leading the way to the living room. “Her father is presumably dead. Jules heard his business associates talking about getting his body into the trunk.” Gus sat on the far left cushion of the sectional, feet planted wide.

“Shit.” He sank down in an adjacent armchair. “And the hospital cleared Julie to take care of Sabrina?”

Easton tucked his hands into his front pockets and exchanged a look with Gus.

He dug his fingers into the upholstered chair. If someone didn’t explain what the hell was going on in the next ten seconds he was going to explode. “Tell me you took her to the goddamn hospital.”

“No. We couldn’t.” Easton’s voice was flat as he sat next to Gus. “The bureau had a nurse practitioner come here.”

“The bureau? Why are they involved?” He’d left the only people he’d ever cared about to protect Julie and in doing so he’d left her vulnerable.

“Sam Vesey, Sabrina’s father, was one of the FBI’s best field agents.” Gus placed his elbows on his knees and leaned toward him. “Deep cover for three years infiltrating The Unified Brotherhood.”

His jaw clenched and a red haze distorted his sight. “Jules got herself mixed up with the goddamn mafia?”

“That’s why we wanted to talk to you first.” Easton’s calm voice made Isaac want to rage. Didn’t they understand what kind of danger she was in? “The only reason Sabrina is here and not with a court appointed guardian is because Vesey changed his will shortly after Julie’s agency placed her in their home. He named Julie as both Sabrina’s legal guardian and conservator in his Last Will and Testament. Sabrina is the recipient of all Vesey’s assets and his life insurance policy, which Julie now has the responsibility of managing until the girl turns eighteen.”

He stared at his brothers, not really seeing them.

Gus cleared his throat. “We have to ask Julie some hard questions, and the FBI is chomping at the bit to interview her, too.”

“Questions. What kind of questions?” His mind was spinning, not slowing enough for him to catch onto what they were implying.

“About her relationship with Vesey. If it was personal.” Easton delivered the words gently, as if he knew what Julie meant to him.

A scorching ember flared to life in his gut as jealousy threatened to choke him. He was vaguely aware of his breath coming in coarse pants. He had no fucking right to feel this way. Like gutting a dead man for placing his hands on his sweet Julie. He was the one who had left her. His decision. One that shredded at his marked soul each and every day. She was a beautiful woman, and he’d never had any delusions that she would be celibate because of a childhood crush and one explosive kiss on the very couch his two brothers were sitting on, but the reality of it was more than he could bear. He needed to lock this shit down. Jules needed him now. Whether she’d just lost her lover or not, she was in danger and no one would protect her like he would. He’d die a million deaths if it meant keeping her and Sabrina safe, because if her innocent little hand on his face hadn’t pulled at his heart enough, she was bound to Julie. He stood and, ignoring his brothers’ calls, he strode across the living room and pounded up the stairs. He eased open Julie’s bedroom door and slipped into the dimly lit room. If tears weren’t burning behind his lids he would’ve laughed. The sloth lamp he’d given her one year for her birthday glowed on her nightstand, illuminating all variations of sloth knick-knacks and stuffed animals. Her obsession with the couch potato of the jungle never failed to amuse him. Jules was not a morning person and without coffee she’d stagger down the stairs, eyes barely open. His brother always referred to her as the sleepy sloth in the mornings, but the wordsMy sleepy slothalways resonated silently in his head. He missed seeing her when she woke up with her hair mussed around her face and her eyes heavy with sleep. The memories made him want to sob.

“Isaac?” Her quiet voice was a bullet graze to the chest. He’d failed her in every possible way. Failed himself.

“I’m here,” he choked out and shut the door behind him, locking it. He closed the distance to her bedside. She was so small amidst all of her pillows and sheets. He crouched on the floor by her bed. Her light, sweet scent intensified the hollow ache inside him that could never possibly be filled. She smelled of spring. Of rain showers and sun-drenched wildflowers. Of unbearable, unattainable joy. “Are you okay?” His voice broke, but he was so full of fear, of blinding jealousy that there wasn’t any room left for shame.

“I’ve been okay for the last ten hours but no one will let me get out of this bed,” she huffed.

“Damn straight they’re not.” He clutched the edge of the bed, when all he wanted to do was cup her face and kiss her.

“I wasn’t even directly hit. Grazes sure. They sting like anything and my head, backside, and groin are sore but, really, you’d think I got—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice had gone somewhere dark and dangerous. The thought of Jules being hurt further made him murderous. “Grazes? You were shot? What the hell happened?”

“Before you turn into a homicidal maniac, I repeat, I. Am. Okay.” The shaking began in his soul until it fanned out and his muscles were trembling. She’d been fucking shot. He could’ve lost her. He got to his feet, not sure his legs would hold him, and kicked off his boots.

“What are you doing?” Jules whispered. She propped herself up on her elbows. The comforter slipped down and the thin tank she wore did nothing to conceal the tight buds of her nipples beneath the fabric. Her eyes widened as he slipped in bed next to her. Damn, he wasn’t being fair to her, but he needed her wrapped around him. Needed to feel the beat of her heart and each intake of breath.

“I need to hold you. Please, Jules. Let me have this.”

Chapter Three

Julie remained perfectly still as Isaac lowered himself onto her bed, afraid if she even took a breath she’d wake and it would be a cruel dream. She didn’t wince when his hand brushed her bruised hip over the comforter, nor when he wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her against him. His heart drummed wildly into her back and his body shuddered when he buried his face in her hair and inhaled. For years, Isaac had denied them this closeness out of some stupid, misplaced concept of brotherly honor. He wasn’t her brother, though. Not by blood. And he didn’t warm hers with the fuzzy closeness of family. No. He made the blood sear through her veins, and as much as he denied it, she did the same to him. Wetness trickled along the edge of her shoulder, and her eyes widened.

“Isaac,” she whispered. Not once had he cried in front of her, but his wet lashes were fluttering over her bare skin, his breath hot as he feathered kisses across her back.

“Not yet.” His voice was ragged and so broken she obeyed the command. She wasn’t sure how long they laid there intertwined, only that it would never be enough time. Hadn’t they already wasted enough of it playing his silly games? Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rolled so she was facing him. Her turn to touch and hold. She placed one hand against his chest and tucked the other under his side. His muscles bunched beneath her, a solid fortress designed to keep her at bay.

“Don’t you dare lock me out, Isaac.” His head jerked back at her tone, giving her just enough space to lean forward and pepper the corners of his mouth with kisses. When she licked the seam of his lips, he didn’t just open for her, he lunged forward while simultaneously dragging her closer. For a moment she was still, shocked by his response before she came to her senses and poured every ounce of pent up love, anger, and frustration into the kiss. Love, because from the second she laid eyes on him, sheknew. Knew he’d be important in every aspect of her life. With one glance, something simmered inside her while quieting all of the devastation she’d witnessed far too young. Anger, because at eighteen, he turned his back on the family they’d forged, enlisting in the Navy. If that’s what he wanted to do with his life, she would’ve been proud. Would’ve adapted. Waited for him to come home from each mission. Below the fabric of that anger, though, was hurt, because she was the reason he walked away from them. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin of her lower lip, bringing her back to the present. She swallowed the low groan that escaped his lips and felt it vibrate along her tongue straight to her core. Everything ached and none of it came from her harrowing escape with Sabrina. His grip on her was possessive as he deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue, pushing frantically in an effort to get closer. Her heart was pounding now, matching the pace of his. Everything about him was solid from the muscles stretching beneath his shirt to the stiff erection straining against her stomach. Isaac pulled back, staring at her with an unreadable expression. They were both panting hard, struggling to catch their breath.

“Tell me why Vesey left everything to you, because you’re not kissing me like a woman mourning another man.” His eyes were dark. Expression hard.

She reeled back as though she’d been slapped. There it was. The reason Isaac was in her bed, kissing her like she was the lone antidote to some terrifying disease. She had no idea why Vesey would’ve made her the legal guardian for Sabrina, but she was damn glad he had. Maybe he’d noticed the love between them. Maybe it was out of desperation. It wasn’t, however, because they had any type of relationship beyond that of employee and employer.

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