Page 48 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Isaac, let’s go.”
I scramble backward, pulling Isaac with me, but his stance is so strong, he doesn’t budge an inch. His infuriated gaze remains focused on Col. His jaw is ticking so furiously, his back molars grind together.
“Please, Isaac, he has a gun,” I beg, motioning my head to Col’s henchman.
If Isaac doesn’t agree to come with me, I’ll blow my cover and announce I’m an FBI agent. Col Petretti has always been paranoid about being under surveillance or infiltrated by an undercover agent, so my confession may be enough to force him to leave our group immediately.
Isaac’s eyes flick to Col’s henchman. He sniffs, goading him. “A real man doesn’t need a gun. His body is his weapon.”
“It’ll be in your best interest to remember that,” he threatens before he relinquishes his grip on Col’s wrist.
I sigh when Isaac grasps my wrist and spins on his heels, not once glancing back on Col or his henchman left standing on the sidewalk.
CHAPTER23
“Get out.”
I shake my head and re-latch my seat belt Isaac just unlatched.
“For once, do as you’re told and get out,” he screams, making me jump in fright.
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head once more. “No.”
Isaac growls. This time, it isn’t a sexy-as-sin growl, it’s a growl that shows his unrelenting anger.
He throws open the driver’s side door so hard I’m surprised he didn’t break the hinges. He stomps toward the passenger side door and pulls it open so violently, I have no chance of holding it closed.
Leaning in, he unclasps my seat belt and lifts me out of the car. His angry strides don’t stop until he dumps me onto a wicker chair on the front veranda of Cormack’s mansion.
His icy gaze turns to mine the instant I spring out of the chair. “Stay here.”
I freeze, truly scared by his infuriating gaze.
I’m not stupid. I know where he’s going and what he’s planning on doing. That’s why I’m trying to stop him from leaving. You can’t insult a man with a reputation like Isaac’s and not create a devastating ripple.
Isaac didn’t speak a word the entire drive home. His fists clenched the steering wheel tightly, and his gaze remained planted on the road. I tried to soothe his anger, but nothing I said altered the furious mask marring his handsome face. He was physically in the car with me, but his mind was occupied elsewhere.
Tires screech as his car whizzes out of the driveway, gaining the attention of Harlow and Cormack, who are sitting in the den.
Cormack rushes onto the front patio. “What’s going on?”
“We ran into Col Petretti on the way home,” I stutter, my mind blurred with confusion.
“What happened?” Panic echoes in Cormack’s tone. “Did he say anything, do anything… Izzy?”
He grasps my biceps and shakes me, lifting my fogged haze.
“He didn’t say anything. He… umm… said I have the face of an angel.” I’m utterly confused as to why it would cause such a negative response from Isaac.
“Fuck.” Cormack scrubs his hand over his head. “Where did you see Col?”
“At 57.” My panicked eyes lock with his. “Can you stop him?”
“No one can stop Isaac, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try.”
He places a peck on Harlow’s shocked mouth and darts toward a garage housing his extensive collection of cars.
By the time Isaac and Cormack return, two hours have ticked by on the clock. Harlow encouraged me to have a shower and change out of my dress, then I spent the last hour and a half wearing a hole in the expensive Persian rug in the den with my ponderous pacing.
