Page 1 of His Fury

CHAPTER 1

ISLA

I wasn’t supposedto feel this way—cold sweat slicking my palms, heart racing loud enough to drown out reason. I was so nervous, and I hadn’t even gotten in the car, never mind getting to Zayn’s place, regardless of my building a shield of determination around me, every excuse, every plea, every calculated word ready to roll off my tongue. Only to get a text he wasn’t even there.

Where else would he be?

Was he with someone? A woman? My stomach twisted at the thought, envy flaring hot and sharp beneath my ribs. I licked my lips, shoving the surge of jealousy away. I had moved on.Remember, Isla?

I turned on my heel and made it two steps back towards my apartment when a figure caught my attention at the edge of my vision. I saw a guy on his phone as he approached in my direction—broad-shouldered, dark clothes, a phone pressed to his ear. He was staring right at me, and I felt my chest tighten in apprehension as he got closer.

I fired off a quick text to Julian, turning when I heard asound behind me, startled at how close the guy on his phone was.

“Hi? Are you lost?” I asked, the words shaky, a poor imitation of confidence.

His voice was low and smooth and far too certain. “Got her.”

I froze. My blood ran ice-cold, and every instinct shrieked at once. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out reason, my body locked in fright as my mind shoutedrun. He ended the call with a click that echoed in the stillness, the sound of finality loud.

“Isla Wells?” he asked although his tone said he already knew the answer.

I swallowed, forcing steel into my spine. It was too late to run. “Who wants to know?”

His mouth curled into a humorless smile. “Come quietly, and you won’t get hurt.”

Panic surged, raw and unfiltered. I took a step back, my boot catching the edge of a cracked paving stone, and the man’s eyes narrowed, patience thinning. “I wouldn’t,” he warned. “We’ve got eyes all over. You make this difficult, someone gets hurt. You don’t want that.”

Someone? Orme? I clenched my fists, fighting to keep my voice steady. “You think I’m going anywhere with you?”

He sighed, almost pitying. “Your choice,” he murmured, gesturing subtly. Two more men emerged from across the street, appearing like apparitions—broad, unsmiling, and looking far too capable.

My stomach dropped. I bit back a curse, eyes darting for escape routes and finding none. Trapped. Panic clawed at the edges of my control, but I swallowed it down. Control was all I had now, and if I fell apart, I was done.

“Fine,” I bit out, lifting my chin. “Lead the way.”

The man smirked, gesturing smoothly for me to walk ahead. My legs felt wooden, and every step felt like a betrayal as I moved past him, my pulse thundering in my ears. The two guys crossed the road, and I shivered despite the balmy evening air.

Think, Isla. Think.

I took a breath, forcing down the terror, the questions, and the crushing realization that no one was here to pull me out of this mess. Who were they? Who had he told that he got me? Had hegotme, or had Igivenhim me?

Fear that had been so paralyzing now surged through my body like a rush of adrenaline, and I acted without thinking.

I bolted.

My sudden dash surprised the second guy, and I ran right past him. Thank God I had decided to go to Zayn wearing sensible flat-heeled boots. They weren’t sneakers, but I could run.

I ran like the wind, but sports was never my thing. I kept fit by running around events all day, notactuallyrunning. Despite his size, the guy who grabbed me wasn’t even winded. His arms locked around me like steel bands, crushing the air from my lungs.

“Get the door,” he barked, his voice rough and irritated.

I kicked and twisted, my nails clawing at his forearm, but it was useless. The more I struggled, the tighter his grip became.

The car door swung open, and I was shoved inside with a force that knocked the breath from my chest. My palms scraped against the leather seat, raw and stinging, as the door slammed shut behind me. I lunged for the handle, but a heavy hand caught my wrist, yanking me back.

“Settle down,” one of them growled, his face shadowed but eyes glinting coldly.

As the engine roared to life and the car pulled away, I twisted in my seat, my vision swimming. I looked out the window and watched the streets blur past, hoping desperately someone had seen something and was calling the police.

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