Page 85 of Burn With Me

A vein in Isaac’s forehead pulses at the reminder. “I’m sorry they approached your brother,” he says through a clenched jaw. “But I didn’t have any power over that.”

“But you know they’re after your father?” I gaze up at him, thinking that through. “Are you working with them?”

Isaac doesn’t answer. In fact, he doesn’t even react. His face goes a careful calm—a distant and almost indifferent look enters his eyes. The only way I’m even assured that he’s still very much aware of my presence is the solid heartbeat next to my face and the way his hands hold onto me.

“I’m tired of the manipulations, Isaac.” I try to pull away, but his hands become like iron shackles. “Let go.” I yank at my wrists as his fingers circle them.

“No.” The denial is a growl, low and deep and dangerous. My eyes widen as he presses me back against the bar. “Never.”

I grit my teeth and glare up at him. “You lie to me. You manipulate me. You don’t want me around and then you do. What the fuck am I supposed to do here, Isaac?”

“Trust me.” His answer is sharp and ready as if there’s no doubt in his mind that I should just accept the breadcrumbs of information he feeds me.

“Not until you trust me,” I snap. “Tell me everything.”

“I…” He closes his eyes, his upper lip pulling back away from his teeth like an animal ready to bite. “Fuck, I can’t. Sunshine, I…” His words trail off.

“If you can’t tell me the truth, then I can’t trust you.” The words are true, but they still don’t stop me from asking my next question. “Are you using me to some end?”

Isaac’s eyes open and he looks down at me. As the sun sets behind me, his face is thrown into shadows. It’s there—visible—but not completely illuminated. “I wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you, Sunshine.”

That’s not an answer. I shove hard at him, squirming enough that he finally drops my hands and latches onto the counter on either side of me. He presses me back harder as I push against his chest, growing more and more frustrated and angry the longer I’m locked against him without any give on his part.

“Fucking … let … me ... go!” I scream. He turns his head when I ball up my fist and punch his chest. His head snaps to the side on my next strike and still, he doesn’t fucking move.

I’m panting, my chest rising and falling in rapid movements. Oxygen squeezes into my lungs but never quite makes it all the way in, leaving me breathless. Isaac’s head drops until his forehead touches my shoulder and I stiffen all over as his hips move forward, trapping me harder against the counter.

“Sunshine…” His voice is gruff, tortured.

The elevator dings behind him and for a brief second, neither of us moves or makes a sound as footsteps enter the penthouse. “Yo! ‘Zac!”

Isaac’s friend, Paris, comes around the corner from the direction of the elevators, followed a split second later by Shep. The two stop when they spot me and Isaac. This time, when I press against Isaac’s chest, he takes a step back and frees me.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that, man,” Paris says, looking from me to Isaac. “Didn’t realize you had your girl over.”

“I’mnothis girl,” I say sharply, stepping away from Isaac. His hand shoots out and latches onto my wrist. I pause and look back, but Isaac doesn’t say anything. Quietly, I reach down and pry his fingers off of me. “Besides, I was just leaving.”

I make it halfway across the room before Isaac finally speaks. “You need to be careful, Aurora,” he says. “You have no idea the kind of man my father is. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t—don’t try anything. Or at the very least, tell me before you act rashly. Don’t get yourself fucking killed.”

“Unless you can tell me the truth, then you don’t deserve any insight into my plans, Isaac,” I say. “I’m not stupid. I won’t do anything without thinking it through, but until you stop making me feel like a toy you’re using just to piss off your father, I don’t want to fucking hear a damn thing about what I do.”

I stomp past his friends, the burn of their attention and curiosity flaming the side of my face as I make my way to the elevator. The sting of unshed tears fills my eyes, but I hold it in. I wait and it isn’t until the doors close behind me that I cover my face and finally lose it.

I didn’t think it would hurt this much—being denied even the common decency of answers. I thought I didn’t care—not about Isaac. Not about people’s bullshit anymore. But I guess that, too, was a lie. A lie I fed myself day after day.

Because if the shredding pain in my head and gut is anything to go by—I care. I care a hell of a lot.

39

ISAAC

“You good, man?” Paris’ voice cracks me out of my head and slams me back into the present after Aurora’s sudden entrance and subsequent exit.

Does he want the true answer? No. I’m not good. I’m as far from fucking good as a man can possibly be. I scrub a rough hand over my face and turn away from both him and Shep. Their attention bores into the back of my head. They’ve got questions. Of course they do. I’ve been so absent from a lot of things—if not in body, then in mind. Aurora has me fucked up, and she doesn’t even seem to realize that the reason I’m not telling her shit is because I fucking care about her. Too much.

Should I go after her? Should I just let her calm down on her own and then approach later? I’ve never felt so confused in my life.

“Isaac?” I blink and turn back, realizing both of my friends have come further into the room, carefully avoiding the papers that linger across the floor. They are watching me with varying expressions.

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