7. Isla
CHAPTER 7
ISLA
Now I knew everything was fucked up because Rye was handing me a lifeline, and I was taking it.
The room was too small. It wasn’t really; the loft was huge and spacious. But it felt small, like the walls were closing in.
Was it because Zayn was here? Or because Julian was here? Or both. Or neither. Maybe I just didn’t want to relive the conversations I’d had with a guy who would have killed me as easily as he said the words.
But I knew I had no choice but to say what I’d been avoiding. I faced Rye with the others behind me, and I did what Rye asked. I pretended they weren’t here. I straightened my back and crossed my arms, and with my heart hammering, I composed myself.
Rye turned slightly towards me, facing me full-on, his expression unreadable. He was the one who’d offered this—this ridiculous, stupid offer I should have refused.
“Just talk to me,” he told me again, his voice low and even. “Pretend it’s just you and me.”
And somehow, somehow, that was easier. Easier than looking at Zayn, who already knew too much. Easier than facing Julian, who I couldn’t even look at without wanting to strangle him or hug him. Again, maybe both. I no longer knew. What I did know was that I needed to let them know.
So I pretended it was just me and Rye. I focused on him.
Just Rye.
And I let the words come.
“They took me because of Julian,” I said, my voice steady, my nails pressing into my palms to keep myself that way. “I didn’t know that, though. I went to my car. Julian had told me that afternoon that he owed money—too much for him to pay back and that he’d lost his job.” I paused as I thought about it. I went to turn to look at him, but Rye’s hand snapped out and stopped me.
“What is it?” he asked. “What are you thinking?”
“How do you lose your job when you own half the company?” I asked him as my temper started to rise. “Did he lie to me?”
Rye didn’t break eye contact. “We’ll park that for now and circle back, okay?”
Translation, my quarrel with Julian wasn’t his problem. But he was right; this wasn’t the time. Or the place. I took a big breath.
“There were three of them. I never saw the other two until the big one was behind me. I thought he was lost.” I ignored the creak of wood behind me and hoped it was one or the other of them taking a seat. I pushed it away as I spoke to Rye. “The big one was on the phone when I turned. He said got her .” I cracked my neck, trying to loosen up as I felt the stiffness in my shoulders as I recalled the events. “I was slow.” I broke eye contact with Rye. I didn’t like admitting weakness at the best of times, never mind to the man who sat in front of me. “I should have run. I should have called for help. I did try to run, but I was already caught.” My eyes dropped to my arm, and pushing up the short sleeve of the T-shirt, I looked for the bruise. “I knew that would be there,” I murmured. “Guy had hands like shovels.”
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Rye asked me.
I shook my head, pulling the sleeve back down. “No.” My hand reached down and felt my knee. “I think I cut my knee.” When I looked up, Rye was looking over my head.
“You have,” he confirmed. He nodded at my hands. “Might need more than a manicure for that.”
That actually made me smile. “I did this to myself. They put me in a room—dark, pitch-black, stone or concrete. I couldn’t see. I looked for a way out, but the walls were sticky.” My breathing was uneven as I remembered the walls. “Blood.”
Biting my lip, I focused on the wall behind Rye. I didn’t want to see his sympathy. He had said there were no feelings involved, but I also didn’t want to see no reaction either. I knew I was being stupid, but while I appreciated the chance of no emotion, I needed some kind of reaction. Focusing on the wall was easier.
“They didn’t hurt me,” I continued. “Not physically. But they wanted me to be scared.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And it worked.” Rubbing my hands over my arms, I tried to get through it fast. “I spoke to the main guy when I got there and he told me I was collateral, and then they threw me into that room. I don’t know how long I was in there. I tried to get out.” I looked back at Rye. “I tried.”
“I know.”
He believed me, and that was enough.
“I don’t know how long I was there. It was in there that I found out that I’d lost my phone.” I blinked back more tears. “I realized no one would know I was gone. Julian thought I was going to Zayn to speak with him on his behalf.” I saw Rye flick his attention over my head, the look of disapproval evident. “Zayn and I…well, we aren’t together anymore. That’s misleading…I mean, we aren’t sleeping together anymore.” I shook my head as thoughts crowded my mind. “I’d texted him, and he’d told me he wasn’t at Elixir, but the likelihood of him texting back after that message was slim.” My eyes dropped once more. “That’s not how we left things between us.”
The silence behind me felt tenser.
I looked up at Rye. “Do you know how hard that was?” I asked, my voice a whisper. “To know that no one was missing you?”
I saw his guard drop, a flash of understanding in his eyes. “I do,” he said, his voice just as quiet. “I never want to feel that way again. I’m sorry you had to.”
I believed him. Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I tried to stop the tears. That simple admission was too much. “I’m trying not to cry,” I mumbled. “Can you stop being human?”
He gave a low laugh. “Switching back to heartless bastard.”
“Thank you.” We shared a look, and he gave me an encouraging nod. “Where was I?” I wasn’t expecting an answer, and I didn’t wait for one. “When they came for me, he told me he was owed money. That’s when I knew it was because of Julian that I was there.” I ignored the muffled sound of despair behind me. “He thought I was his girlfriend or something. He called him lover boy.” I brushed away a tear, mad at myself for crying .
Rye’s head tilted slightly, his blue eyes watching me too carefully.
But still, he didn’t interrupt.
“He wanted his money. He said Julian had something of his, so he was taking something of his . I remember I told him that the kind of money he wanted would take time, but he told me they weren’t willing to wait for him to find it.” I drew in a breath.
Even pretending I was only telling Rye this, knowing the others could hear me, didn’t make it easier.
“The main guy came in and got me out of that room. He handed me a handkerchief for my hands and made sure I noticed the wall covered in blood.” I shuddered. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep with the light off.” It was meant to be a throwaway comment, but it came out solemn and heavy. “I went outside with him. He offered me the choice to walk out of the room or be dragged out. I chose to walk.” My hands looped behind my neck as I processed everything, my head drooping slightly. “He asked me what an event planner does. I think I had a moment of hysteria because I started laughing. He asked if I was having a breakdown and if my job brought in money. I made some quip about it not being enough to interest him. He then asked if I lived alone, and I said they probably already knew that since they picked me up outside my door. Right?”
“Mmhmm.” Rye was watching me closely. Listening. Not reacting. Not judging.
“Yeah, I figured out he was calming me down. Talking about generic stuff, making me comfortable. Or trying to.”
“Seems like it,” he confirmed.
“He said my friend, lover, or whatever… I asked him if he meant Julian and he asked me how many boyfriends I had.” I exhaled loudly. “I said I had no money and he said he didn’t wa nt my money. He wanted my boyfriend’s money. Then he said Julian had friends in high places.”
I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes locked on Rye. Not on the way the room had gone completely still. Not on the way someone shifted uncomfortably behind me, and I knew it was Julian without looking.
I took a slow breath. “He handed me my phone. I thought I dropped it at my apartment. But he told me to call Julian. He told me that he’d been avoiding him, and it was time to make Muhammed come to the mountain or the other way around, I can’t remember, which way is it?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Rye said smoothly.
I tried to remember. “I think he told me that before I was in the room with no light and the bloody wall.” I frowned and looked at Rye apologetically. “I think I may be getting muddled up.”
“You’re doing great.” He gave me another smile. “Keep going.”
“He gave me my phone, told me to dial Julian or…” I choked.
I could feel the way Zayn’s tension spiked. I could feel Julien’s guilt radiating from across the room. But I didn’t look at either of them.
Just Rye.
“Isla…”
“Or I wouldn’t see tomorrow.” The room was so quiet I think I was the only one breathing. “He said it so… casually,” I continued, voice quieter now. “Like I was just another number on their books. Just…someone who could be thrown away.”
I didn’t say the worst part out loud. That I had believed it, that for a terrifying, gut-wrenching moment, I had thought I was going to die .
Rye’s gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his face, before he gestured for me to continue.
“He said Julian would find a way to come running with his money. So I called Julian. Then he spoke to him and told him if he didn’t pay I would. In blood.” I tore my gaze off Rye’s. “And then,” I scoffed, disgusted with my reaction. “I was such a badass, I fainted.” I dared not look at him. I couldn’t cope if he laughed. “When I came to, I was back in the black room.”
“Did he say anything about Zayn?”
I hesitated as I thought about it. “No. I don’t think they know we have a… That we know each other.”
Another pause. Another heavy, unbearable silence.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay still. Forcing myself not to react to the way the air in the room shifted. I still wasn’t looking at him, but I felt Zayn move.
A chair creaked. A breath was exhaled too sharply. I knew what was coming before I heard his voice. Low. Dangerous. Controlled in a way that meant he was anything but.
“Is there anything else?” he asked from behind me. “You’ve done so well, really well. Is there anything else?”
I clenched my jaw. I should have lied. But I’d come this far.
“When the big one came into the room where I was when you arrived, I never knew you were there,” I told him, my voice tight. “He said it seemed that Zayn McCabe would pay any price to get me back.”
More silence. But this time? It was explosive. I felt Zayn’s anger, sharp and deadly. Felt Julian shift uncomfortably, his guilt no doubt growing heavier by the second.
Rye was the only one who didn’t react. Instead, he studied me, his eyes assessing, sharp. “And do you believe them?”
I hesitated. My throat was dry. My hands shook. And for the first time, I let myself be honest. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think they believed it.”
That was the problem.
That they had seen something I hadn’t.
Or maybe it was something I wasn’t willing to admit.
Rye exhaled, his expression unreadable. “All right.”
And just like that—it was over. I let out a slow breath, only now realizing how tight my chest had been.
I had done it. I had laid it all out. But I still couldn’t bring myself to look at Zayn. I couldn’t handle what I might see on his face.
Not now.
Not yet.
So I stood up from the couch and looked down at Rye. “I need to go home.” I started walking toward the door, needing out.
“Isla.” Zayn’s voice stopped me cold.
I stiffened. But I didn’t turn around. Not yet. Not when I wasn’t sure if he was about to confirm what everyone else seemed to already know.
That they were right. That I mattered to him. More than I was ready to admit. Maybe more than he was ready to say.
“Thank you,” I told him, my back still to him. “I don’t think I said it.” The realization hit me with a sense of remorse. “Thank you for coming for me. Both of you.” I drew in a shaky breath. “But I can’t do this. This is way outside my comfort zone. I…” I exhaled loudly. “This is messed up. I was taken hostage. I mean…I’m an event planner. I’m no one. I’m just…I’m no one.” The tears were falling again. “I want to go home. I want to go to bed, and I don’t want to get up until Monday when I have to go to work.”
“You’re locked out,” Zayn reminded me gently. “You have no way to get home and no way to get in when you get there.”
“You can stay with me.” Julian spoke for the first time, and my peal of laughter was the only answer he needed.
“You can stay at my house,” Zayn said, and I felt him getting closer. “Not here. It’s…rural. Secure. The only people who know of it are in this room.”
My head bowed as I stared at my feet. I didn’t even have my boots on. Where had I been walking? “Will I be alone?”
The silence was deafening.
“No,” Zayn said. “But you’ll be safe.”
“Zayn…”
“This really is me collecting on that favor, Is.”
I turned to look at him and he was right behind me. “I owe you no?—"
His eyes had a hint of amusement as he watched my indignation. “Now Isla, why do you always lie to yourself?” He stepped closer. “You owe me, Isla. You know you do.”
God, he was dick sometimes. “I was sure the stunt you pulled at the gala made us equal!” I snapped at him, and the bastard grinned.
“But you owed me twice, little Isla,” he murmured.
He held my gaze, even though I was glaring at him. I knew the night that I dragged him from a girl’s bed at a college party would come back to bite me. I turned away from him. “Fine.”
Rye stood. “I’ll take you. I’ll stay with you, see you settled.”
Who would have thought my safe harbor in all of this would be Rye?
“Is that okay?” I wasn’t asking Rye. I was asking the man behind me, whose tension I could feel radiating off of him.
“For now,” Zayn confirmed softly. “But not for long. ”
I turned to face him. His eyes were fierce with anger, but I never backed away when he reached out to run his thumb over my cheek. Because the truth hit me the second I looked into his eyes this morning.
Zayn McCabe wasn’t just my past anymore.
He was my present.
And worse?
I wasn’t sure if I could stop him from becoming my future.