Page 70 of Quiet
“For what? Defending your boundaries?” Tor shifted his gaze to Briar. “You don’t own him, man. Listen, I’m sorry I called you a freak, okay? Just let me talk to him for five minutes, and then he can decide if he wants to push me away.”
Isa looked to Briar, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do to fix the situation, but Briar was so upset, it was making Isa dizzy. Right now he could barely think, let alone get a handle on the jumble of information the fairy spell was sending him.
Briar rubbed the side of his head in frustration and pushed Tor aside. He took Isa by the corset strings and pulled him in close. He leaned down and covered Isa’s mouth with his.
There was silence as Isa allowed Briar to explore his mouth. And then . . .
“Oh shit, Briar. I didn’t even know guys were your thing. Or anyone for that matter. You should have told me.”
Isa ignored the ridiculous comment and allowed the world to fall away as Briar used his body to show anyone watching exactly what he was thinking. Isa was his. Only his. Everyone else could fuck right the hell off. His mouth was scorching hot, and it sent a delicious tingle through Isa.
“Um, I’m just going to go now.”
Isa was dimly aware of the light falling on his face as Tor opened the stairwell door and left without closing it behind him. He should probably care about that. Anyone milling near the side of the stage would see them. But that was Future Isa’s problem. Current Isa was busy enjoying the thing Briar liked to do with his tongue that made Isa’s brain go all funny.
* * *
Much, much later, Alex stole Briar away to help prepare for the end-of-year art student party. Over the past two weeks, the art and theater departments had become more intertwined—Isa’s modeling gig with Briar’s group ended up sparking off a friendship between the two departments. He hadn’t even noticed. It was forgivable. He’d been preoccupied.
It had taken a while for Isa to escape from his costume. He’d had a ton of help getting into it, but now that the show was over, everyone was more concerned with stage cleanup and getting to the party. If he was smart, he would have left the costume on and gone to the party. Briar would have helped him out of it. Quickly, if he was any judge.
Finally, he exited his costume and was on the floor collecting his breath—it had been a full contact sport fighting his way free. Just getting out of the corset by himself had taken at least twenty minutes.
His arms trembled with exhaustion as he hauled himself off the floor. Channeling the spell from last night had been a lot for him and adding in his morning activities with Briar—along with being in the play—had drained most of his resources. Getting out of his costume had finished the job.
That was surely the reason he’d chosen not to remove all his stage makeup. He’d gotten rid of the extreme contouring Will had given him but had left most of the eye makeup. It seemed a bridge too far. And it had nothing to do with how it made his eyes pop.
He was one of the last people out by the time he left the theater, waving an awkward goodbye to Seth as he scurried past him. It was already dark and more than a bit chilly when he got outside, so he huddled inside his jacket and trudged sluggishly to the bus station. He didn’t have the energy to go back to his room to get changed for the party. He barely had the energy to walk.
Which was probably why he didn’t realize his danger until it was far too late.
A shove between his shoulder blades had him on the ground, wind knocked out of him, and dazed. He choked as he struggled to breathe. His arms collapsed under him when he tried to shove himself to his feet, and he ended up face down on the ground again. Isa had no idea what was going on but getting some distance from whoever had knocked him down was simple common sense. Too bad his body was refusing to cooperate.
“You’re even more pathetic than before, you little twerp.”
Isa froze when he heard the voice of his sister, Rebecca. The tiny bit of air he’d managed to regain froze in his lungs as his chest tightened in fear. She didn’t usually attack him right away—even when she was pissed off at him. She always preferred to yell at him first, so he’d know why she wascorrectinghim.
Something must have happened to set her off so badly.
He hazarded a glance up from the ground and saw his cousins Josh and Paul bracketing her on either side. This was going to suck. The sharp kick to his face confirmed his assumptions.
Everything went a bit fuzzy after that. It always did when he took a blow to the head.
“Get him up.” His sister ordered, and Isa felt rough hands grab his arms and haul him to his feet. His eyes weren’t tracking well, and something warm and wet was dripping down his face, making it difficult to see Rebecca’s expression.
There was no point in trying to guess what she was thinking, anyway. It was definitely too late to charm his way out of the situation.
Rebecca lunged forward and grabbed Isa by the front of his shirt, jerking him forward. A sharp pain came from both shoulders as they stayed right where his cousins held them. “I knew we never should have let you come here, you little queer. But Father has always had a soft spot for you. The Good Lord knows why. You’ve been a little fruit since you were born.”
She knew about Briar.
Rebecca must have seen them kissing through the open doorway.
Fear made his vision go white at the edges. He’d known it would happen someday. That his happiness wouldn’t last. But he’d thought—hoped—he’d have more than one day.
At least Briar wasn’t here.
Rebecca took Isa’s battered face in one hand and twisted his neck cruelly until it caught the light of a nearby streetlamp. “You didn’t even have the decency to take off that disgusting paint after your shameful performance.”
