Page 45 of His Fury

“I think I’m angrier that I walked right into this because of someone I trusted.”

“Julian?” I asked. “Or me?”

“Julian,” she confirmed. She gave a delicate sniff. “Was sure it would be you who were my downfall…”

The gentle nudge to my ribs dulled the impact of her words, yet the danger to her was still present. “Patrick won’t come near you again,” I assured her, a bitter taste lingering in my throat. “Julian…say the word, and I can keep him away too.”

Isla paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Don’t dothat,” she said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “Don’t make that choice for me.”

I took a mouthful of beef and rice, chewing slowly as I contemplated her words. “Don’t expect me to stand by. He put you at risk.” Turning my head, I met her gaze. “It’s nonnegotiable.”

We stared at each other, tension stretching between us.

Finally, she exhaled. “I don’t need a bodyguard, Zayn. I just need the truth, and no one has provided it.”

I placed my fork on my plate. “And if I give it to you now?”

Her gaze didn’t waver as she mimicked me, placing her fork on her plate. “Try me.”

“He owed money. He lost. He took out a loan. From the person he lost to…a loan shark. He kept betting. The interest climbs. Patrick’s interest rate is exorbitant at the best of times. Patrick took you because he knew Julian would come to me to pay his debt. I’ve done it before.” I didn’t break eye contact. “Too many times. I told him last time I wouldn’t do it again.” I saw the pain in her eyes, but I kept going. “Patrick underestimated one thing.”

“What’s that?” she whispered, gazing down at her plate to conceal the tears filling her eyes for her friend.

My voice was low and certain. “How far I’d go to get you back.”

Isla swallowed hard. Her fingers tightened around her fork. “And how far would you go?”

I leaned in until my mouth was near her ear. “As far as I need to.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable; it was heavy and filled with truth. I resumed eating, and after a while, Isla did too.

Wiping my mouth, I leaned back in my seat. She hadstopped eating before me, having pushed her food around her plate for a few minutes. I stood, took her plate, and heard no objection. I carried the plates to the sink and stacked the empty boxes and two trays.

I heard her get up from her seat, and when she came over to help, I went to the fridge and poured two glasses of wine.

“Not working tonight?” she asked as she accepted the glass.

“Just having the one.” I walked into the living room, aware she was following. I took a seat, and Isla occupied the edge of the couch she had claimed as her spot the night before. We sat in silence. I held my glass without drinking, watching her sip hers.

Finally, Isla glanced at me and nodded. “All right.”

“All right?”

“I’m not saying that I accept any of it. Your life, your…business.” She paused, gazing at me with those sharp, weary eyes. “But I’m here. And I need to be able to talk to you. Really talk.”

“Okay.”

She offered a shaky smile, its edges tight with doubt. “No warnings? No dire messages? No controlling me?”

I raised an eyebrow, just slightly. “When have I ever managed to control Isla Wells?”

Her lips curved, but the laughter didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You try. You’re just subtle about it…pretty distractions, favorite takeout, custom wardrobes.”

“That wasn’t about control,” I said quietly. “It was about comfort. It was about giving you something that was yours in a space that doesn’t feel like home yet.” I hesitated, allowing her time to absorb what I was saying. “I wanted you to have something that hadn’t been tainted by any of the shit outside these walls.”

Isla stood and walked to the window, looking out as she wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze fixed on something outside. “You say that as if what’s outside won’t find its way in.”

“I can’t keep it out,” I told her honestly. “But in here, I can hold it back a little longer.”

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