by Stella Rhys
Jesse ran his thumb over the hardened parts of the towel, caked in his dark, dried blood. He lifted his head and paused, a half-wince on his face. “And he what you had planned for me?” he asked, his question tinged with a fragile hope that Abram promptly shattered.
“Yes.”
Jesse hung his head. Watching him, I sorted through my confusion to suddenly understand what it all meant – that Jesse had saved Stefan’s life only to have Stefan offer up his. It had to be the most remorseless display of selfishness I had ever seen.
“So if you aren’t shitting us, your brother went rogue to kill Gavin, let you take the fall and then helped us find you so we could slit your throat,” Nate clarified, his slow laugh building and sounding borderline deranged. It seemed as if he was half-laughing, half-crying as he spewed every curse under the sun, muttering what he was going to do the second he found Stefan, detailing down to which teeth he’d ply out first. To my surprise, Jesse still had no reaction. He was silent, his mind somewhere so far away that he didn’t so much as flinch as Nate raved on about every way in which he planned to make Stefan bleed.
“Enough,” Abram finally snapped, narrowing his glare. “We have business to take care of,” he muttered, dropping a business card next to Jesse. “You can stay here tonight. Know that my men will be outside your door at all times,” he said before turning his attention to me. “Isla. You should come with me.”
I stared at Jesse. He was impossibly still, like a marble statue perched at the edge of that glass table. The only movement I detected was in his eyes. They darted side to side as his mind began its transition from hurt to fury. I could actually see it happening. Solemn before, his gaze now glinted with violent rage. It clenched his jaw, flexed his forearms, made his entire body shake enough for me to notice. “Jesse…” I started, suddenly fearing for him.
“Isla.”
I ignored Abram’s voice, my eyes still on Jesse. “Are you going to be okay?” I couldn’t help asking it. I could only imagine the hurt. I hadn’t actually sacrificed for Elle but Jesse had for Stefan. And while Elle had been an angel, Stefan had apparently been the devil. Jesse had spent a year running for him and Stefan had shown his gratitude by collaborating to have him murdered. I couldn’t think of a more soul-crushing betrayal. “Jesse,” I repeated softly, my heart beating fast when he finally lifted his head to me. My pulse hammered as his green eyes locked on mine. I braced myself as I waited for him to speak – for him to bark that I leave him the fuck alone. But he didn’t. Slowly, his stare defrosted on me.
“Can you stay for a second?”
His question was barely above a whisper – so audibly vulnerable it shocked me. As did the fact that my lips instantly formed the word “yes.” I couldn’t believe myself. An hour ago, I’d wanted this day over with so I could never see Jesse Toro again. Now, I actually ached to sit with him, to be alone with him and simply listen to whatever his broken heart had to say. Maybe it was the way his eyes pleaded. The way he looked at me like Elle often did when visiting hours ended. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d just had his entire world turned upside down, his whole understanding of family flipped on its head. My instinct to comfort was kicked back in like it was a year ago, when Elle was down to her last days. Staring at Jesse, I wanted nothing more than to say “yes” to him.
But before my lips could even part, Abram gave a blunt reply.
“No,” was all he said. I immediately shot him a glare. But he wasn’t looking at me, he was studying Jesse – and with a hint of curiosity. My heart pounded as I assumed his thoughts. Why would Jesse want me to stay? What did he want from me? What relationship had we built in what little time we’d known each other? Suddenly, I realized how soon I’d have to explain myself to Abram – how this entire day came to be. And I’d have to do so without revealing that for a couple of weeks, I had known Jesse as Sean, and that we’d had sex in my bed, in the apartment Abram had arranged for me to live in.
The stress crashed down on my chest like a sudden shower of bricks. I drew in deep breaths. The last thing I needed now was to arouse suspicion and create more drama, so despite the wretchedness tearing at my stomach, I got up and walked to Abram, straining the emotion from my voice as I replied to Jesse. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said flatly, my brusque tone like a fist squeezing my heart. And without another word, I followed Nate and Abram out the door.
I had every intention of turning around before I went outside, of mouthing “I’m sorry” so Jesse might understand. But once we reached the door, Abram hung back to hold it open for me, nixing my chances of any last correspondence. Once I heard the door close behind us, I could feel the guilt sinking like a hot stone into my stomach.
In the elevator, I watched Abram come in, his broad shoulders stiff, his eyes fixed on me tight. I was convinced he was furious with me. But to my surprise, he stood above me and cupped my cheeks. Bending his head down, he kissed my lips. “Isla.” He exhaled my name just loudly enough for me to hear, but the soft sound was tinged with a thousand different emotions. Nate was but an afterthought as I melted into Abram’s body again, the way I had for the past three months depended on doing every time I was terrified. I took in his touch, his smell – all the familiar things I didn’t know I’d been craving so badly till I felt the true calm it steeped me in. I didn’t even realize my limbs had been shaking all day till in Abram’s arms, they finally stopped. “I’m so fucking sorry,” Abram pulled away to breathe. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You weren’t supposed to get this involved.”
I rested my forehead to his. “I know. But I am now and it’s okay,” I tried to lighten the mood. “Now you don’t have to hide anymore. And now it’s four against one. You’re going to get Stefan. It’s going to be over before we even know it.”
We. I had unconsciously lumped us into one thing. But Abram didn’t seem to notice or mind.
“I hope so,” he whispered, letting his eye wander about my face as he tucked stray locks of hair behind my ear. “Please tell me he didn’t hurt you, Isla. Tell me Jesse didn’t so much as lay a finger on you.”
I paused. “He didn’t,” I murmured, holding my breath as Abram closed his eyes and let out his. And with that, we separated so he could speak with Nate. Leaning against the mirror, I closed my eyes, drowning out their low mutters and doing everything in my power to suppress the guilt of lying. I told myself that at this specific time, I had no choice – it was for the better. But distracting me was a sudden buzz against my thigh. I jumped. Looking down, I blinked at my phone, nestled in my pocket as it always was. I slid it out of my jeans, my steady heart pounding again as I read the name on the screen.
Sean.
Little bolts of lightning zipped through my fingers as I drug my thumb across the glass, unlocking my phone to read his message. Jesse’s message.
I know you wanted to stay. Thank you
chapter five
I showered while Abram talked business with Nate downstairs, in the dining room. Soaping myself down, I tried to scrub away any lasting remnants of Jesse but he was in my head and under my skin. My mind hated him yet my heart bled for him. I didn’t understand what I felt. He had my entire body at war with itself and I couldn’t be more irritated by that. I stared blankly at the wall, in a daze as I let the water beat down on my shoulders. I didn’t snap out of it till I heard Abram’s tired voice.
“Mind if I join?”
Wiping the fog off the glass, I turned to see that he was already shirtless, undoing his belt. Christ. The sound of his jangling buckle always sent the blood instantly rushing to my lips, cheeks and thighs. By the time he opened the shower door, my fingertips were already itching to touch him. But once he stood before me, I gave a short gasp. “Holy shit, Abram.” I ran my touch along his ribs, battered with deep, purple bruises. “Did Jesse do this?”
Abram glanced down as if just noticing them. “Probably,” he replied.
“Does it hurt?” I looked up anxiou
sly, only to see that Abram was more than likely over this topic. His gaze was traveling over my wet skin now, following the glistening bubbles that trailed down from my shoulders to my chest. They outlined my shape as they slid around the teardrop curve of my breasts, eventually trickling down to my ribs. Ignoring my question, Abram nodded behind me, at the water beating down from the showerhead.
“Wash off,” he said, his voice low. It was exhausted but still firm, authoritative. Biting my lip, I nodded, blinking the droplets from my lashes and walking back till I felt the water raining down on my skin. I stared back at Abram, gliding my fingertips over my stomach, up to my breasts, rubbing all the soap off of my skin as he gripped his cock, stroking languorously. Slow, unrushed, he watched me run my hands over my body. But his pace quickened a beat as I reached between my legs, drawing two fingers over the length of my throbbing sex, parting my lips and rubbing gently over my clit. I could tell from the way he exhaled, the sound of his arousal as thick as the mist billowing around us, that he appreciated the view. But he remained sober, unsmiling even as he came to me.
“Keep doing that,” he murmured, taking the soap from my hands and running it under the water. He was soft but commanding. I took no issue with it. Backing myself into the marble wall, I pressed just my shoulders against it, my hips thrust just a bit forward as I teased myself for Abram. The hot pulsing in my thighs deepened as he kept his stare locked on me, one hand pumping over the length of his shaft as the other ran the bar of soap over his shoulders, across his chest, down every deep-carved section of his incredible abs. Again, he took his time. As he stared at me, I wet my lips. He was so damned gorgeous and the way he watched me had me so turned on it hurt.
Yes. I felt my lips curving into a grin when he finally stepped under the shower, raking both hands into his hair and letting the water stream down through every crevice on his perfectly cut body. I closed my eyes. God, please. I needed to feel him. I couldn’t wait a second longer. “Abram – ”
I gasped as I felt his body slam against mine. With a growl, his hands were suddenly everywhere. They pushed down the curve of my hips, grabbing my ass, fondling and squeezing till his cock was fully hard against my stomach. I breathed his name as he kissed my neck, one hand fisting my hair, the other sliding into my pussy, one finger followed by another, then another, pumping mercilessly till my body overflowed with blood-rushing heat. He devoured me, his tongue working its way up my burning hot skin till he could suck my earlobe into his mouth. My senses were on overdrive. And just like that, I was ready to explode with pleasure, his fingers a single thrust from shattering to pieces.
But suddenly, he stopped.
“Abram!”
He kept his fingers inside me, my walls pulsing around them. When I tried to sink down on them, he squeezed me against his torso, holding me still. Suddenly, his stare bore deep into mine. His blue eyes were steely as he asked the question that froze me stiff in his arms.
“Is there anything that you haven’t told me, Isla?”
My mouth fell apart, my chest heaving against his. His stare hypnotized me to the point that I feared my lips would betray my trust. But my head shook quickly adamantly, answering for me till I could vocalize the same message. “No. No, Abram, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I needed to ask.”
His tone was so strange and formal that I shoved him off my body, grimacing as his fingers withdrew from inside me. “You needed to ask now?” I glared, pushing past him and snatching a towel from the rack, throwing the door open to storm out. In his bedroom, I hugged the plush, white towel to my chest, wounded, enraged and paranoid at once. My eyes were wild as I wondered if he somehow knew. If he could somehow feel Jesse’s touch lingering on my skin. No. Calm down. It was impossible. And it wasn’t my fault. I reminded myself of that. I hadn’t known whom Jesse was when I slept with him. It meant nothing and I was keeping it a secret from Abram because it benefited no one for him to know.
“Isla.”
I flinched at his voice behind me. “Don’t.” I spun around to his hands in mid-reach for me. He let them fall. Still naked, a magnificent statue dripping from head to toe, he stared at me. His blue eyes were now singed with regret, I could see it, but I couldn’t bring myself to ease up or relax.
“Isla, I’m sorry.” Abram dragged his palm over his jaw. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“I missed you,” he said, his voice hard. “I can’t even describe to you how much because I don’t understand it myself. It’s not a feeling I know well. All I know is that every minute since you got out of my car felt like an entire fucking day. I spent every night after that fantasizing about what it would be like – what your hair would look like, what you’d smell like, what you’d be wearing the day I got to see you again. I didn’t expect for it to be this soon, Isla and I certainly didn’t expect that I’d see you with Jesse Toro.” He pulled the name from this throat like it was dirty, covered in spikes. “I spent the last year thinking that he was the only man I’d be willing to die killing and I get it now – it wasn’t him. He didn’t kill Gavin. But I still don’t trust him and I hate myself for pulling you so deep into this, because now you’re on his radar and he knows exactly what you are, you’re my weakness. And try as I might, I can’t put it past him to never use that against me, so I’m sorry. He got in my head just now and I shouldn’t have let him. I just want to keep you safe.”
I swallowed hard. “Fine,” I murmured, not knowing what else to say. I raked my hand through my hair, unable to reconcile my thoughts. The entire situation was so fucked up and somehow it was no one person’s fault. I wasn’t even sure whom I was most angry at: Abram, Jesse or myself. “I’m just going to go to bed now. In the other room,” I finally said. Silent, Abram watched me wrap the towel around my body.
“Fine,” he finally said with resignation.
I didn’t look back at him but I knew his eyes stayed on me till I walked out the door.
~
I had gone to sleep in my towel and kicked it off the bed at some point in the night. By eight in the morning, I was awake, clutching the sheets to my naked chest and looking around for something to wear. There was nothing but when I cracked the door open, I found a robe hanging on the knob – brand new, slippery silk and blush pink in color. Grabbing it, I closed the door and pulled it on. After some mental pep talking, I took a breath and went downstairs. I could hear Abram’s low murmur in the dining room and figured he was on the phone. While I wasn’t completely over what had happened last night, I was eager to put it behind us. I couldn’t dwell on that when there were still a million things up in the air, every one of them more important than my hurt feelings.
But as I turned the corner into the kitchen, I smashed into what felt like a wall. Yelping, I grabbed the first thing I could to keep my balance – a shirt. More specifically one stretched across a lean torso, so startlingly white against such olive skin. Looking up, I snatched my hands back. “Jesse!” I gasped, jerking out of his protective grip.
“Relax, I didn’t want you to fall,” he smirked as I tossed his hands off my sides. “You’ll know if I’m trying to cop a feel.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard there was a continental breakfast.” I glared. “Your boyfriend called me in to discuss business. But things are getting a little tense so I’m excusing myself for a minute. So I don’t fucking kill him.”
“What’s going on?”
“Long story short we all want a piece of Stefan. We’re just debating who gets the biggest slice,” he said, as if they were talking about cutting up a birthday cake. I could hardly wrap my mind around it.
“Jesse, are you even…” I trailed off. Are you even okay? That was the question I wanted to ask him but it sounded too silly spoken aloud. Though at the same time, it was legit. He’d gone through a mental roller coaster last night – grief to anger to shock to joy and finally, devastation. He’d been emoti
onally ruined in a million different ways because of Stefan. And yet here he was ten hours later, nonchalantly bickering for the right to kill him. It seemed psychologically impossible.
“Am I even what, Isla?”
“This is your brother, Jesse. As of yesterday, you still loved him. I saw how you looked when you talked about him. Don’t you need… time to process everything?”
Jesse plucked a cigarette from his pocket and crinkled his brow down at me. “That’s cute, Isla, but no. Not really.”
“But you were brothers. You grew up together,” I murmured, tempted to remind him that he’d loved Stefan enough to risk his life for him. But I spared him because I could hear the sound of Abram’s footsteps approaching, and because I had a feeling Jesse knew what I was talking about anyway. The cigarette dangled idly in his mouth as he studied me, the perma-smug slowly fading from his lips. He was a second from saying something when Abram came suddenly between us, snatching the cigarette from Jesse’s mouth before turning his rapt attention to me. “Everything okay here?”
“Everything’s fine,” I said evenly, ignoring Jesse behind him. He’d been serious for all of a second but now he wore a big, shit-eating grin on his face because clearly, irking Abram was becoming one of his favorite pastimes. Suddenly, I wondered if I really wanted to be around while these guys sorted things out. “Everything’s fine,” I repeated. “I should just get going. Rhode’s texted me a million times and I have a shift at Muse Room tonight. I’ve already missed two this week.”
Behind Abram, Jesse wiggled his eyebrows and mouthed “Muse Room” with a lascivious look that Nate caught. Grabbing Jesse’s arm, he jerked him away, leaving me alone with just Abram. He was frowning down at me now, looking undeniably cute with his tousled morning hair and wrinkled grey Henley. Ugh. The air was thick was silence and somehow all I could wonder was how long any of his girlfriends had ever stayed mad at him.