Page 255 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Sorry.” His smiles, exposing the dimples in his top lip.
Isaac and Ryan greet with a shake of hands before Ryan devotes his attention to me. “I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”
Before I can answer, Isaac jumps back into the conversation. “What’s this regarding? Does Isabelle need a lawyer present, or—”
“No, it’s not related to any prosecution of Isabelle.” Ryan’s tone lowers to ensure the people milling in the hallway don’t overhear his next comment. “It pertains to her kidnapping yesterday.”
Isaac’s stance stiffens before he gestures for Ryan to lead the way. Regan follows closely behind us, her composure altering from friend to kick-ass lawyer the instant Ryan requested to speak to me.
We end up in the room I was initially taken to after my arraignment. It’s as cold and unwelcoming as it was back then. When Ryan gestures for me to take a seat at the table, I remain standing, trying to portray a strong front. It would be better if I could stop fidgeting.
Isaac stills my hand fiddling with my dress by enclosing it within his. Just his skin against mine appeases my agitation.
“Can we get this over quickly?” Regan folds her arms in front of her chest before cocking a brow. “My client has been through a traumatic weekend, so she wants to go home to recover.”
Ryan nods as his eyes turn to me. “The gentleman who kidnapped you has agreed to give us the name of his abettor and other vital information if you'll speak with him.” His eyes shift from me to Isaac. “He wants to talk to her alone.”
I nod to Ryan’s request at the same time a stern “No” escapes Isaac’s lips. His tone makes it clear there will be no further discussion on the subject, but I still peer at him, pleading for him to reconsider.
He deems Enrique a threat to my safety, but I know there's something more to Enrique’s motive for kidnapping me. Besides, I won’t be able to move on from my ordeal until my questions are answered, and the only man who can answer them is Enrique.
“Isaac—”
“No, Isabelle. This isnotnegotiable. You're not speaking to him.” His tone is low and dangerous as his anger rises.
“He will lead us to the police officers who assaulted Isabelle if she talks to him. We’ll be able to bring their bodies home to their families before Christmas.”
My eyes dance between Ryan and Isaac, shocked by Ryan’s confession. “What bodies?”
The longer they remain quiet, the more tears burn my eyes. I don’t know what hurts more—the fact Isaac is still harboring secrets from me, or that he doesn’t think I can handle the truth. I'm stronger than Isaac thinks I am. My uncle raised me to be a strong, opinionated woman, and it’s time for him to learn that.
“I’ll talk to him—”
“No, Isabelle!” His voice is so loud, he startles Regan.
“I love you, Isaac.” My admission immediately dampens the fury burning in his eyes, but it makes what I say next ten times harder. “But I need to do this. I need to trust my intuition didn’t steer me wrong. Not just with Enrique but with you as well.”
He takes a step back like he was slapped by my words. My throat tightens, upset that I’ve caused him distress. I love him in a way that’s completely unexplainable, and to some, I’m sure it appears to be nothing but lust, but its more than that. I love him for the way he protects me and keeps me safe. I love that he guards me as if I'm his most prized possession and that no harm will ever come to me when I'm with him, but I need to do this to prove my intuition was right. To prove what my gut was telling me was true. Not just with Enrique, but with Clara as well.
“Please let me do this,” I beg, stepping in front of him. “You can stand right outside his door. If anything happens, you’ll be there in an instant, but I need to do this, Isaac. I need to trust my gut. It’s never steered me wrong before, so I want to prove it wasn’t wrong this time either.”
Forty-five minutes later, we’re in the hospital corridor outside of Enrique’s room.
“Don’t get within touching distance of him, Isabelle.” Isaac’s tone is rough and stern like how he reprimands his staff members. “You can kill a man in seconds just by using your hands—” He suddenly stops talking as his grip on my hand tightens. “I changed my mind, you’re not doing this.”
When he drags me back down the hallway we just walked, I dig my feet into the sparkling marble tiles, trying to stop his furious steps. My efforts are fruitless. Someone of my height and weight is no contest for a man with impressive strength like Isaac.
“Stop, Isaac,” I demand when his yanks on my arm become painful. “You’re hurting my arm.”
The instant the word ‘hurting’ seeps from my lips, his abrupt strides halt, and he relinquishes my wrist from his firm grip. As his pupils widen, his eyes drop to my arm, seeking any damage. “Jesus… did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine.” I want to rub the pain in my arm, but I lace my fingers instead, hating the devastation flooding his eyes.
“Isabelle—?”
“I’m fine.” I step closer to him. “But I want to do this. I won’t get within touching distance. I’ll stay in your line of sight at all times, and I’ll be in and out within five minutes, tops.”
His eyes dart between mine for several heart-thrashing seconds before he peers past my shoulder. Ryan is standing outside of Enrique’s hospital room door. His pistol is holstered on his hip in plain sight, and the clasp on his holster is unlatched, prepped, and ready if he needs to draw his gun quickly.
