Page 9 of Isabelle & Jason
Isabelle wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her cheeks pinked and she pulled at the sleeves around her wrists. The movement caught his attention. She was anxious.
Why?
Because she did recognize him?
Because he was a stranger?
His eyes narrowed on her, but Charlie stole his focus again. “And you are?” She held out her hand.
“Jason.” They shook.
“I’m gonna go,” Isabelle murmured, making her escape.
Charlie sighed as she watched her friend leave. “Don’t worry about her. She’s having a bad day.”
“Oh?”
The woman before him shrugged. “Yeah. But it’s fine. I don’t think she’s happy with all the changes being made. It’s a bit… much.” Charlie smiled. “I’m sure you can understand.”
He nodded absently, his eyes drifting to where Isabelle disappeared into the large house. So this was where she lived. And she had zero interest in him whatsoever.
Jason knew better than to chase after her. Who was he to her, anyway? A nobody.
Or someone who would remind her of a past trauma.
He worked his jaw, only half-listening to Charlie. Apparently, they were friends. They were close. But the fact was that she made no comment to indicate Isabelle would ever warm up to him.
Maybe he needed to cut his losses.
Or maybe he needed to bide his time. He could be patient. His mother had always said he was charming. Eventually, he might wear her down.
Jason parted ways with Charlie and returned to Mark’s side.
And of course he couldn’t hide his amusement—not that he was even trying. “Strike out again?”
“Shut up,” Jason said.
Mark laughed again. “I take that as a yes.” Jason shook his head and headed back to his room. He needed to get his headon straight. That familiar tugging sensation had him wanting to knock on the door Isabelle disappeared behind and try again. If not to ask her out, to comfort her, be there for her.
But did he really think friendship would be enough?
It would have to be. He was here for the long haul.
Especially since he’d finally found her. Now, he could keep an eye on her and make sure she was doing okay. Yes, that would have to be enough.
4
Four Years Later
Isabelle
The glowing red numbers in the dark had become just another part of Isabelle’s messed-up life. Three in the morning. Three-o-six to be exact. She scowled at those numbers. There was no point in going to sleep now if her body hadn’t gotten the memo yet.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The nightmares were getting worse. How was that possible? Wasn’t she supposed to be past this by now? So much worse could have happened. She could have been kidnapped. She could have died.
No one could have come to save her from that deplorable act her date had attempted to enact.
The unease in her stomach tightened again and Isabelle closed her eyes. Sleeping only happened when her body was so drained of energy that she passed out. And that usually onlyoccurred once every couple of days, sometimes in the middle of the day.
