Page 54 of Burn With Me

Isaac Icari.

My Icarus.

25

ISAAC

She’s running. I smirk as I watch her in her bedroom at the Rozenfeld Dorms, poring over textbooks and scribbling something into a notebook. While, initially, I’d been more than a little irritated and disappointed waking up without her in my arms—I can’t help but feel like that’s exactly how it was meant to be. Maybe if I’d woken up with her curled against my chest, I might have felt some form of regret. Instead, I’d been left without even the opportunity. She’d stolen it from me and left me wanting more. Craving more. Needing it like I need my next breath.

Aurora is running from me, but it only makes me want to chase her that much more. I caught her once. Does she really think I won’t catch her again? Does she think that next time I won’t chain her up to keep her by my side?

The desire to go to her eats away at me as I watch her in what she thinks is her private space. Golden strands fall over the corner of her shoulder as she leans forward and writes something on the top page of her notebook before turning her gaze back to another textbook. The cameras, though originally placed in her space for more cruel purposes, have become my salvation. They’re the only reason why I haven’t tracked her little ass down and dragged her back.

Instead, I’m letting her think she can run. I’m giving her space—or at least the illusion of space. All the while, I’m observing her, soaking in her sunlight as she walks around her room in tiny shorts and tank tops, thinking she’s safe—thinking that she got away from me, even if only temporarily.

A sharp knocking rap hits the door of the small library study room. I look up from my phone as Shep’s familiar face appears in the doorway. He pushes his way inside, dropping his bag next to the chair at my side before slapping the door closed once more. Dark hair is pulled away from his face and tied up with a small leather band, revealing an unusually unshaven jaw.

“Bad day?” I inquire absently as he grunts his way through, tearing open his backpack and withdrawing his laptop.

He shoots me a dark look. “It’d be a little better if someone warned me that he was going to get his dick wet with his stepsister.”

I shrug and lean back against my seat. “Why’s that gotta put your panties in a wad?”

Shep’s laptop lands on the table and he snaps it open, glaring my way. “Because I had to be the one to go back through and edit the video feed your father has on you,” he growls. “The least you could do was give me some advance warning—I could’ve just run a fake feed instead of having to go back through it. Spending the weekend reworking that shit wasn’t exactly on the list of dreams come true.”

“You don’t seem to mind sharing your partners,” I say absently. “What’s the problem with playing voyeur every once in a while?”

Shep scrubs a hand down his face and for a brief moment, guilt nips at me. He does look tired—dark circles under his eyes, unshaven face, and all. I sigh. “I’ll be more mindful in the future,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back. “Does she know she was on camera?” he inquires.

I shake my head. “She didn’t ask,” I reply. Well, that’s not entirely true. I told her the place wasn’t bugged. That was true. The video doesn’t have audio.

“Is this another way to get to her?” Shep asks. “Are you planning on spreading a sex tape of her after what she did to you?”

A month ago, the thought would’ve been at the forefront of my mind. In fact, even now, I have to admit that it’s not a bad idea. Sex tapes are different for men and women. It’d definitely have her contemplating a move. Now, though … the thought of someone seeing Aurora Summers the way I’d seen her—wild, untamed, open and so fucking sexy it drove me half out of my mind—makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

My eyes go to my friend. The only reason I’m not contemplating that with him is because this is my own fault. I hadn’t stopped to consider every ramification.

“No.” There will be no sex tape. “Delete it. Get rid of the evidence.”

Shep arches a brow, but releases his arms and bends over his laptop as he strokes the keyboard. Seconds later, he sits back and nods my way. “Done.”

My muscles finally release and I relax back into the chair once more. “Thanks, man.”

He shakes his head. “What are you thinking?” he asks. “Seriously. What is it about her? She’s just a girl. Fuck, she’s not even a girl—she’s a liability. Have you forgotten what you’re trying to do here?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” I say, dropping my tone. “I met with Agent Brown a few weeks ago and he says they need more. They want hard evidence of Damian Icari’s less than legal dealings.”

“Fuck.” Shep’s curse mimics my own internal thoughts. The harder the evidence, the riskier the feat. And now … my eyes go back to my phone screen and the girl there. Now, there’s more at stake. “What fucking use are the Feds if they can’t use what you’ve already given them?” Though it comes out as a question, I know it’s not.

I close out the camera app and shove my phone into my pocket. “They want to catch him red-handed to make sure there’s no way their worm can wiggle off its hook.” It’s smart on their part but makes my job a hell of a lot more dangerous.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Shep asks, leaning forward, his hands on his knees.

I contemplate the question, but I already know there are few choices I’m left with if the FBI isn’t able to do anything more. Unfortunately, I don’t like any of my options. I hold up a finger.

“Option A,” I start, “is to get close to Emilia Summers. She wants a family and now that she’s married Damien Icari, she considers herself my mother.”

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