Page 82 of His Fury

“The way they looked at me?” he asked softly.

“Like you’re the same as them.”

“And you didn’t like that?” Zayn asked me, his thumb rubbing my knee gently. “You didn’t like that Iamthe same as them?”

“No,” I whispered. “I hated it.”

He looked up at me, his face expressionless.

“But…” I sighed.

“But?”

“I understood it.” My breath was shaky. “I saw it, and Iunderstood why you are that person. I understand who you are.”

Zayn’s head dipped, breaking eye contact. When he looked up at me again, he was no longer hiding behind his mask. He was open. Raw.

Vulnerable.

I reached out, my hand cupping his cheek. “And that’s the part that scares me.”

He didn’t say a word, just leaned into my palm, his eyes closing.

And I knew why.

Because it scared him too.

CHAPTER 20

ZAYN

“Where’s Barnie?”Rye asked when I came into the kitchen the next morning. He was standing with his back to the counter, hips resting against it, fully dressed and eating a bowl of cereal.

“Who?”

“Isla.”

I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Why did you call her Barnie?”

He spooned food into his mouth. “She’s like a barnacle,clingingon to your ship, so I’m calling her Barnie.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with these two and their dislike for each other. “For fuck’s sake, donotcall her that. She’ll hate it.”

He grinned at me with glee. “I know.”

I shot him a glare. “Rye, I mean it.”

“Totes hear you, boss.” He carried on eating, but I saw the smile he was failing to hide.

“Totes? What the fuck is totes?” I peered at him closer. “Are you high?”

Rye laughed, covering his mouth quickly to catch anywayward cereal. “No, I’m not fucking high,” he said with a chuckle. “Been there, done that, got the scars for souvenirs.”

“Why are you so happy?” I asked suspiciously. “Who did you kill, and what will it cost me?”

Dumping his cereal bowl in the sink, he chuckled. “My hands are clean”—he cast a look at me—“so far today at least.” With a wink, he finished his coffee and, whistling, left the kitchen.

I watched him go and fought the urge to follow him. Rye was never…upbeat. Rarely happy. Neverelated.

---