Page 44 of His Fury

“It can’t be both?”

Isla looked down at my mouth and then up again, a flash of uncertainty crossing her face. “No.” She stared at me, the silence crackling between us. “What am I to you, Zayn?”

I should’ve had an answer.

I had a thousand answers.

But I didn’t know if I had therightanswer.

So I leaned closer and let my hand trail down the sleeve of the top I’d chosen for her. The fabric was warm from her skin. From her. Our lips were millimeters apart. “You’re the thing I don’t want to lose.”

Her breath hitched, just enough for me to hear. Just enough to matter.

But before I could lean in, taste her, she stepped back. Isla looked away, and I eased back, giving her space.

“I’ll give you time.” It was all I could offer without grabbing her and locking out the world. “But not too much. Because the longer you stay here…”

She swallowed hard. “What?”

“The harder it’s going to be forbothof us to pretend this isn’t real.” I turned and walked toward the kitchen, giving us both some breathing space. “Come on, I got takeout. Rye already took the kung pao chicken.”

I didn’t hear her follow me, but I felt her presence. Ialways felt her nearby, always knew where she was in the room. In the kitchen, I said nothing about her bare feet even though I knew I had ordered her socks, slippers, and boots.

But was she wearing them? No, she had bare feet on polished concrete. Isla propped her hip against the counter as she watched me.

“I’ll need to reheat this,” I told her. “How much of a food snob are you?”

That made her smile. “The microwave is fine,” she assured me.

“Thank fuck.” I winked. “No idea how the oven works.” Opening a cupboard, I pulled out a box of tea bags. “Tea?”

“Yeah, please.” Isla walked up beside me. “You make tea. I’ll man the microwave.”

We worked in silence. I kept my hands busy—pouring boiling water into mugs, yearning to touch her, to ensure she was safe.

“I thought you had a chef?” Isla asked as she swapped cartons over to reheat.

“I do. But we never told him I was coming, so anything prepared is frozen, and something told me you’d be in the mood for the extra salt and bad cholesterol, which you can only get from takeout.”

She laughed softly, and I paused to admire her smile. “Sometimes I forget how much you seem to know about me.” Isla glanced up and saw me watching her. “You notice too much,” she added, her smile fading.

I slid the mug of tea towards her without saying a word.

Isla took it and leaned back against the counter, facing me. She didn’t sip immediately. “They didn’t touch me,” she said softly.

I looked up from arranging the food on two trays. “I know.”

She was staring into her mug. “Do you think he would have?”

That was the moment I lost the fragile thread of calm I had been holding on to. My fingers curled around the edge of the counter, and I had to breathe through it.

“I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry,” Isla rushed out.

“Shh, I need to say this.” I spoke over her. “He never touched you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t. He’s unpredictable.”

Isla took a sip of tea, wincing as she realized it was too hot. “He never laid a hand on me, but he wanted to scare me.” She leaned over and picked up one of the trays of food, carrying it to the table. “I think…” She placed the tray on the table, and I noticed a slight tremor in her hands. “I was a warning shot, but I don’t know if it was for Julian’s benefit…or yours.”

I neither confirmed nor denied. The truth was that I wasn’t sure either. The urge to punch the wall was strong. Instead, I carried the other tray over, and we sat down to reheated food and mugs of tea, neither of us feeling hungry anymore.

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