Page 181 of Surfer's Paradise

And this shit—Greg’s hand on her hip, his too-smooth praise, the way he steered her through the room—this was triggering every violent instinct Isaac had. His ribs ached. His vision tunneled.

He wanted to rip the guy’s head off.

“Bitch, you’re vibrating,” Shay’s voice cut in.

Isaac turned slightly as his teammate and Chris approached, both of them in suits, looking uncomfortable as hell. Chris had already unbuttoned his collar and ditched his tie.

“You gonna detonate or what?” Shay asked, glancing at Rosie. “She looks good. Real good.”

“Too fucking good,” Isaac muttered, still staring.

Chris followed his gaze, saw Greg, and whistled low. “Oh. The billionaire. That’s the guy?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like money,” Chris said, raising his eyebrows. “Shit, maybe he’s her type now.”

Isaac didn’t answer.

Because if he opened his mouth, he might throw the whiskey glass.

Amy appeared next to them, wearing a sharp navy jumpsuit, heels clicking on the tile. She’d been working the floor too, schmoozing press and collectors on Rosie’s behalf. She clocked Isaac’s face instantly.

“Don’t,” she warned, stepping in his path as he started to shift forward.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I see that look,” Amy said. “That’s the murder look. Dial it back. This is a business event.”

“He’s touching her.”

“He’s her sponsor,” Amy snapped, eyes flashing. “He’s introducing her to collectors who could change her life.”

Isaac shook his head, heat crawling up the back of his neck. “It’s too much.”

Amy crossed her arms. “You don’t get to pull her off the dance floor because you don’t like the song. She’s not a kid anymore. She’s a professional. Let her handle herself.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” he growled.

Chris stepped between them. “Yo. Isaac. Chill. You’re not seeing straight right now. Just—breathe.”

Shay added quietly, “You’re spiraling, man. This isn’t like you.”

Isaac’s jaw ticked. His knuckles ached from clenching the glass too hard. Instead, he lifted it to his mouth again.

“Dude, what happened to your hands?” Shay asked.

Isaac didn’t answer. Not yet. He looked past them. Back to Rosie. Her laugh was quieter now. She was nodding at Greg’s latest introduction, her smile twitching at the edges. That wasn’t happiness. That was surviving.

Something inside Isaac cracked.

“I should’ve protected her back then,” he muttered.

“What?” Chris frowned.

Isaac’s voice was low. Dangerous. “I should’ve known. When we were kids. I saw the bruises. I knew something was wrong. But I didn’t ask. I didn’t push. I didn’t fucking protect her.”

Amy paled. Shay blinked. Chris’s face shifted, the joke gone from his eyes.

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