Page 122 of His Fury

Well,at least I was predictable.

“Do you know where he is? Or Rye?” Jayden hesitated for just a moment, but that was enough. “I would really like to talk to Zayn, but I’ll take Rye if that’s not possible. Zayn’s not answering, and I don’t know if Rye’s available to talk.”

Jayden looked up at the cameras. “He’s in the office.” He shuffled out of the booth. “Come with me.”

“Thanks.”

He led me up the stairs, and soon I stood before the familiar office door. I’d only been there a few times; I still got confused by the maze that was the back inner workings of Elixir, and I knew that if Jayden hadn’t taken me I wouldn't have found it on the first try.

He knocked, and the door swung open. Upon seeing Zayn at his desk, I glared at Jayden. Jayden reddened, but I brushed past him and shut the door deliberately behind me.

“Isla?”

“Hi.” I closed my eyes for a moment before speaking. “Do you have a minute?”

“Always.”

“You haven’t checked your phone today?” I asked softly. Zayn pulled it out of his pocket.

“Shit, it’s dead.” He walked around the desk. “Long night. I caught an hour or two upstairs. I just came down.”

Perfectly reasonable. Right? “I didn’t think you were the kind of man who would let his phone run out of juice.”

Zayn actually flushed. “I don’t usually. Rye’s always on my case to charge it. I had a late night…what’s wrong?” He looked me over as he reached out to pull me closer. “You got to work okay.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement of fact. I really needed to know who was spying on me at work—a problem for another day. I ignored the voice telling me it wasanotherproblem for another day.

I took a breath, stepping back out of his hold. “Someone called the office. My office. The direct line.”

Silence.

“They didn’t give a name, but they asked if I was your woman. Said you were good for Thursday. Then something about same hands, different gloves.” I looked down at my feet.

More silence.

I looked up at him as he watched me, his face expressionless. “Zayn?”

“Yeah.”

“What does that mean?”

A pause. “When did they call?”

“Um, about quarter to nine, round about then.”

“Okay.” He stepped back and went to his desk. He pulled out a different phone; this one was an older style, clunky.

A burner?

“Yeah, it’s me. Check the lines for her office from eight thirty to nine. I want to know where it came from.” He hesitated, listening. “She’s here.” He hung up, glancing at his watch. “Where have you been?”

No explanation on who he just called. No reassurance. Just action.

“I went for coffee.”

He stilled. His eyes sharp as he focused on me. “BonBons on a Wednesday morning?” he asked softly.

He knew. “I knew Julian would be there. I wanted to talk to him.”

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