Page 135 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Cold fury rushes through me, icy and precise. I lock my jaw to keep from reacting violently—to keep from hurling the phone, from punching the nearest bulkhead, from shouting for the crew to track the bastard down.
I hand off the device to Brennan. The message came from a burner, no doubt.
“What does this mean?”
She’s not panicking, not crying—but she’s afraid. Her bravery fucking humbles me.
When I don’t answer, she presses on. “You know what this is about.”
“I have a pretty good guess.”
She meets my eyes, steady, unblinkingly. Bravely. “Are you really in danger?”
I drag my hand into my hair as I suck in a breath. “Isla?—”
“Don’t,” she interrupts, reminding me of earlier, when she stood for me against Everett. “I have a right to know.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
She sighs. “Which means yes. You’re in danger.”
“Look…” I struggle to keep my voice calm and neutral. My instincts are screaming to shelter her. To throw my body between her and this world I never wanted her to see. But the truth is, I failed once. I couldn’t protect Lena. And I won’t—Iwon’t—fail again. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Don’t you damn well patronize me.” Her tone isn’t sharp, but it’s direct.
My wife is a force to be reckoned with.
“Whoever sent this knows my phone number.”
Without blinking, she meets my eyes and adds, “So stop your bullshit.”
Her words jar me.
I curl my fingers into a fist. But instead of yielding to my baser instincts, I blow out a breath and force myself to stay in control.
“Let’s sit.” Brennan’s voice is an oasis of calm.
He draws her to a small table and pulls back a chair.
Then she wraps her arms around herself.
Brennan places the phone on the table between us, screen down.
“It’s real.” I drop into my chair. “But it’s not for you to carry.”
She shakes her head. “That answer won’t do.”
I don’t respond immediately.
“Something to do with the call Brennan received?”
Brennan doesn’t look at her, but his posture tightens. He’ll let me do the talking—for now.
My Isla—ourIsla—is quicker at piecing things together than I hoped.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It could be connected.”
“Is it about your business? Or the campaign?”
