Page 34 of Sin With Me

“There’s this art festival coming up in Savannah,” I hesitantly start, swallowing thickly. “My favorite—”

He shakes his head, cutting a hand through the air. “No.”

That’s it.

Just one word and the conversation is done.

But I’m not. Resisting the urge to stand up and scream about the injustice of it all, I breathe deeply, forcing myself to remain calm and level-headed, knowing that’s the only way to get through to him.

“Can’t we talk about it?”

He sighs heavily, gripping his water glass. “I don’t want you driving to Savannah alone.”

Ha. Easy enough. “I won’t be alone. Oli’s driving.”

Isaac laughs. Actually laughs, his head thrown back and everything. “You think I’d let you go all that way with Olive Tanner and her deathtrap?”

“It’s not a deathtrap,” I mumble, but he goes on.

“Not to mention, she’s a horrible driver.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

“I could drive if I had a car,” I state, gaining momentum along with my frustration. “But I can’t get a car because I don’t have any money.” Not completely true, but he can never know that. “And I don’t have any money because I don’t have a job.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his hands flexing against his glass as his jaw ticks, but I refuse to drop his searing gaze. If anything, I force my spine to straighten. I don’t know how long we stare at each other, but by the time he opens his mouth to speak, I feel ready to combust.

“No.”

Dropping his arms, he leans forward, picks up his fork and continues eating.

My stomach sinks through the chair and drops directly onto the shiny floor.

No? Again, that’s all I get?

Now my mouth is the one to gape like a fish out of water. The room spins at his easy dismissal. How can he just—he just—

“What?” I finally squeak out. I clear my throat, my chest pounding for a whole new reason. “I don’t understand. I’m an adult. I need a job—”

“We’re done discussing this,” he shouts, his fork clattering against his plate. I inhale sharply and lean back, putting distance between us.

He sighs, his eyes fluttering closed. He pinches the bridge of his nose and suddenly, he looks every bit his age. Shaking his head, he murmurs, “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper through a tight throat, even though it’s not. It’s anything but okay.

I needed this.

A job.

Freedom.

I need to get out.

“But, Isaac.” I swallow, licking my dry lips. “I’m twenty. I’ll be twenty-one soon. I want to contribute to the house, and help out. Don’t you think I need to have some experience? I’ve never even left the state and you know how badly I want to see the world.” I’m suffocating and he doesn’t even see it.

His eyes snap to mine.

“No, I need you,” he says softly. “I need you here, Eve. I need your help at the church, you know that.”

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