Page 17 of Under His Protection

Isaac wouldn’t come if it wasn’t serious, Ava.

A memory surfaces, a sharp, unwelcome intrusion. Alexander killed my parents. Shivering, my sympathy recedes, replaced by anger. I clench my fist, the memory a jagged shard in my heart. It’s his mess, his burden, and he’s the one who has to carry it. Still, I can’t help but think of Alexander, his face the picture of a lost boy. A wave of confusing emotions hit me, leaving me breathless. My hand twitches towards my phone, a sudden urge to call him.

Fuck.

I glance at Cole, who’s watching Isaac with cold eyes.

“Okay,” I say, finally relenting. “I’ll talk to him.”

Isaac nods, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “Thanks, Ava. He’s at the docks. I’ll take you.”

Cole’s gaze flickers from me to Isaac and then back to me. He doesn’t say anything, but I see the question in his eyes, and I know he’s trying to read my expression, trying to understand what’s going on.

“I’ll come with you,” Cole says, his voice firm. “We can work on the campaign later.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I say, hesitating. I don’t want to drag Cole into this. It’s too dangerous, too close to home, too close to my heart.

“I want to be there, Ava, for your safety,” he says. He steps closer, his eyes locked on mine, and I can see the concern, the loyalty, and the unwavering trust in his gaze. It’s a look that I rarely see in anyone, especially not in men. “I will stay back. I promise. I’m trying to make amends, Ava. Please, believe me, I am.”

Has he really changed? Or is this an attempt to sway me?

I hesitate for a moment, but then, I nod. “Okay. Let’s go.”

At least Isaac is there, and he’s armed.

The drive to the docks is a blur of activity and noise. I look out the window, watching the city lights flicker past, their reflection dancing on the wet asphalt. The air is thick with the scent of salt and diesel fuel—a world I know well, his world.

The car slows to a stop. I get out, followed by Cole, who emerges from the backseat. Isaac steps out from the driver's side, his gaze sweeping over the docks. We find Alexander at the edge of the docks, his back to us, his silhouette framed against the light. He seems smaller and more vulnerable than I remember. As he turns around, I notice the dark circles under his eyes, and his usually sharp features seem more etched with worry.

He doesn’t step closer until I’m right beside him, and when he finally does, I see a flicker of something else in his eyes— a fleeting glimpse of paranoia that vanishes just as quickly as it appears.

“Ava,” he says, his voice low.

I place a hand on his shoulder, my touch light but firm. He smells of rain and something else, a faint, metallic scent that I can’t place. Is it blood?

I search for his eyes, but they're lost in a fog of worry, like a mirror reflecting a world I can't see. He sees me but doesn't really see me.

Has he been taking drugs?

The moment he notices Cole, Alexander’s body tenses like a coiled spring. His jaw clenches, a barely perceptible twitch playing at the corner of his mouth. “What the fuck is he doing here?” he growls, like a storm brewing beneath a deceptively calm sky.

He takes a step forward, his stance aggressive, his gaze locking with Cole’s. Cole raises his hands, a gesture of appeasement, “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Then scram,” Alexander snarls. “Get out of here.”

Cole doesn’t move. His gaze flickers between me and Alexander, a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement? Or is it worry? I can’t tell. His jaw tightens. Isaac stands nearby, silent, as the air crackles with electricity. Why doesn’t he interfere? Does he want a confrontation? Damn it, Isaac.

Instead of waiting for a full-blown explosion, I step in, my hand resting lightly on Alexander’s shoulder.

“You need to get help, Alexander,” I say, my voice calm, but my heart is pounding. “You’re not yourself. You need to talk to someone, to find a way to—”

“I don’t need your help, Ava,” he snaps. His eyes, usually a dazzling blue, are now dark and intense.

“You do,” I say, my voice firm. “I can help you to face this, to—”

But my words are cut short. He turns, his face contorted with a rage I’ve never seen before. He lunges forward, a wild animal unleashed, his fist connecting with Cole’s jaw with a sickening thud.

Cole stumbles backward, his hand flying to his face, a crimson stain blossoming on his cheek.

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