Page 20 of Into The Darkness

“Good job, little sis. It’s a scary world out there. You need to always double- and triple-check the people you are surrounding yourself with.” His posture shifted and he straightened in his chair as he narrowed his eyes at someone walking past us. He stared at him, practically gritting his teeth before shifting his focus back on me. “Always watch your back, baby sis.”

“You are being weird.” I chuckled and punched him in his arm, and he laughed, shaking his head.

“It’s all for your protection.”

“Did you do anything on Saturday? Dad said you were sick?” There was an edge to his tone I couldn’t quite pinpoint. My palms started to sweat, and I tried to rub them on my jeans without looking too guilty.

“Girl problems,” I whispered before shrugging. “Tell Dad to lay off on the bodyguards . . . please.”

“I’ll try.” Walsh narrowed his gaze to mine. “I know it’s not fair to have them trailing you. I told Dad you’d never disappoint us.”

Damn. That guilt was really starting to sink in. The corners of my eyes watered, and I blinked rapidly, praying the tears wouldn’t fall.

“I gotta go back to Layla, but I’ll catch up with you soon. Come by for dinner?” Walsh said, saving me from my own guilt-ridden experience. I nodded.

“And remember, whatever you do, stay away from the Den.”

God, what was it with the men in my life not understanding I was perfectly capable of judging a situation for myself. I stood and threw the rest of my sandwich in the trash, having lost my appetite. The sting behind my ear still burning.

“Fucking assholes,” I murmured as I walked out of the library. Everyone was an asshole. All I was trying to do was study, become a successful author, and graduate college. I didn’t need all this fucking testosterone in my life telling me what to do or hitting me when I was most weak and vulnerable.

As I walked over to the car, the sun was setting, and I realized I had a flat tire. Fucking great. That literally was the worst possible way to end my day. I didn’t have it in me to fight with my spare, so I decided it was best to walk home and call AAA or Walsh tomorrow to help me fix it.

It was a nicer day in Isles, the sun was out and the fog had lifted for most of the morning. It didn’t feel as scary to walk around alone, so instead of taking the bus, I thought it would be best to clear my head and walk. I took the longer path around the back of campus, but the farther I got, the more irate I became.

How could someone violate me last night and then wake up this morning without having to face any consequences? The simple balance of scales was crooked, and I hated that in justice or fairness, nobody won. They didn’t get to reap any consequences for their actions if I remained silent.

Six-months-ago me wouldn’t have dared to even think about confronting them, but I was a different person today. I was bolder. I was stronger, and, somehow, in the last week, I became a better version of the shell I was back at home. Isles was changing me whether I wanted it to.

I turned the corner when I saw the looming black house built into the forest. The cave where men were sitting, moving on with their lives and never answering to the shame and embarrassment they caused me.

My steps became clearer as if my body had a mind of its own. As I got to the gate, I realized there was a lock in the front with a keypad.

“Fuck you guys,” I said as I reached the top of the gate and threw my backpack over. I hoisted myself up to the top and dropped down on the other side. Growing up, I’d try and see how long it took for one of the guards to show up, and while I never went this far, it was always a good source of entertainment.

I picked up my backpack and sauntered to the front door. When I tried the knob, it was locked.

Anger surged through me. The pain beneath my ear was a strong reminder that someone in this house took advantage of me.

“Open the fucking door,” I screamed as my fists made contact with the wood. This was female rage. Nothing would fucking stop me right now, and, like last night, I had no inhibitions. I couldn’t give a flying fuck about who thought what about me because I wanted someone to confess to what they did and stand trial for it.

“I will not leave this porch, and I know someone is home, so you better fucking open up,” I screamed over and over. My hands became sore as I whaled on the door.

Finally, just as I was about to slam my entire body into the wooden door, the door creaked open and I stumbled into the house.

“Jesus Christ, woman. We fucking hear you,” the man responded as he turned and went back to the living room. I paused to take in my surroundings. This place looked far more civilized than it had last night. The furniture was all back in the center of the open space, with large leather couches, and bookshelves filled with rare special editions; the colorful spines held my attention. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace and a handful of guys playing video games around a TV.

The man that opened the door strolled back over to where the TV was and picked up a remote. I was fuming still so I dropped the backpack and rushed over to him, slapping him across the back of his head.

“What the actual fuck?” he barked, and whipped his head to look at me.

Ah, there he was again. It was the same blue-eyed stranger I had straddled and made out with before walking into this house.

“You,” I seethed through gritted teeth. He looked at me coolly, then let out a low chuckle.

“Ash, your girl is downstairs,” he called out toward the stairs.

Ash? Your girl? What was going on? I was so confused that, for a moment, the briefest one, I forgot how pissed I was.

---