Page 26 of His Fury

Zayn sniffed, his expression calm. “It would take more than that.” He glanced at Rye, who nodded in agreement. “You two are always together,” Zayn continued steadily. “Everyone at school thought you were a couple. I don’t believe that has changed over the years. Christ, if I didn’t know better, I would think it too.”

“Oh.” I chewed my lip nervously. “My head hurts. When can I go home?”

“You need to tell me what happened, Is.”

Rye gently knocked my knee with his. “Tell me what happened.” I looked at him in surprise, and he gave me a small smile. “Ignore them, talk to me, Isla. We’re not friends, and no feelings are involved. Tell me what happened, and I promise I won’t interrupt.” He glanced over my head. “No one will. Talk to me.”

CHAPTER 7

ISLA

Now I kneweverything was fucked up becauseRyewas handing me a lifeline, and I was taking it.

The room was too small. It wasn’t really; the loft was huge and spacious. But it felt small, like the walls were closing in.

Was it because Zayn was here? Or because Julian was here? Or both. Or neither. Maybe I just didn’t want to relive the conversations I’d had with a guy who would have killed me as easily as he said the words.

But I knew I had no choice but to say what I’d been avoiding. I faced Rye with the others behind me, and I did what Rye asked. I pretended they weren’t here. I straightened my back and crossed my arms, and with my heart hammering, I composed myself.

Rye turned slightly towards me, facing me full-on, his expression unreadable. He was the one who’d offered this—this ridiculous, stupid offer I should have refused.

“Just talk to me,” he told me again, his voice low and even. “Pretend it’s just you and me.”

And somehow, somehow, that was easier. Easier thanlooking at Zayn, who already knew too much. Easier than facing Julian, who I couldn’t even look at without wanting to strangle him or hug him. Again, maybe both. I no longer knew. What I did know was that I needed to let them know.

So I pretended it was just me and Rye. I focused on him.

Just Rye.

And I let the words come.

“They took me because of Julian,” I said, my voice steady, my nails pressing into my palms to keep myself that way. “I didn’t know that, though. I went to my car. Julian had told me that afternoon that he owed money—too much for him to pay back and that he’d lost his job.” I paused as I thought about it. I went to turn to look at him, but Rye’s hand snapped out and stopped me.

“What is it?” he asked. “What are you thinking?”

“How do you lose your job when you own half the company?” I asked him as my temper started to rise. “Did he lie to me?”

Rye didn’t break eye contact. “We’ll park that for now and circle back, okay?”

Translation, my quarrel with Julian wasn’t his problem. But he was right; this wasn’t the time. Or the place. I took a big breath.

“There were three of them. I never saw the other two until the big one was behind me. I thought he was lost.” I ignored the creak of wood behind me and hoped it was one or the other of them taking a seat. I pushed it away as I spoke to Rye. “The big one was on the phone when I turned. He saidgot her.” I cracked my neck, trying to loosen up as I felt the stiffness in my shoulders as I recalled the events. “I was slow.” I broke eye contact with Rye. I didn’t like admitting weakness at the best of times, never mind to the man who satin front of me. “I should have run. I should have called for help. I did try to run, but I was already caught.” My eyes dropped to my arm, and pushing up the short sleeve of the T-shirt, I looked for the bruise. “I knew that would be there,” I murmured. “Guy had hands like shovels.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Rye asked me.

I shook my head, pulling the sleeve back down. “No.” My hand reached down and felt my knee. “I think I cut my knee.” When I looked up, Rye was looking over my head.

“You have,” he confirmed. He nodded at my hands. “Might need more than a manicure for that.”

That actually made me smile. “I did this to myself. They put me in a room—dark, pitch-black, stone or concrete. I couldn’t see. I looked for a way out, but the walls were sticky.” My breathing was uneven as I remembered the walls. “Blood.”

Biting my lip, I focused on the wall behind Rye. I didn’t want to see his sympathy. He had said there were no feelings involved, but I also didn’t want to see no reaction either. I knew I was being stupid, but while I appreciated the chance of no emotion, I needed some kind of reaction. Focusing on the wall was easier.

“They didn’t hurt me,” I continued. “Not physically. But they wanted me to be scared.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And it worked.” Rubbing my hands over my arms, I tried to get through it fast. “I spoke to the main guy when I got there and he told me I was collateral, and then they threw me into that room. I don’t know how long I was in there. I tried to get out.” I looked back at Rye. “I tried.”

“I know.”

He believed me, and that was enough.

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