18. Zayn
CHAPTER 18
ZAYN
I was in my office, the night long since over with the light hint of morning in the sky. Soon, the streets would be awake. I used to love this time of morning. Gracemont looked so peaceful and quiet at this hour—its ugly truths hidden in shadows that hadn’t yet shifted.
I rarely saw this time of day anymore. Usually, my “day” had ended, and I’d have already climbed into bed after a long night.
I’d always liked the quiet. But I learned a long time ago that quiet didn’t mean safe. I wondered if Isla was also slowly realizing that.
Rye walked in, not surprised to see me still sitting there, going through surveillance footage of The Grand.
“Still not found anything?”
“No,” I answered without looking up. “In a way, I’m glad she told me.”
“But?”
“There’s no but.”
He made a tsk sound that made me glance up at him. “No but? You don’t say in a way without an or, and, or but. ”
“All right, English professor.”
He chuckled and moved behind the desk to look over my shoulder. “You glad she told you?”
“Obviously,” I growled. I didn’t mind him looking over my shoulder like this. Two pairs of eyes were better than one.
“She could be paranoid,” he said, voicing the small whisper that floated in my own head.
“Better safe than sorry,” I told him. I leaned back in my chair, prompting Rye to move, and he walked back to the front of the desk. “She said she felt her skin prickle, like she was being watched. She could feel their eyes on her.”
Rye said nothing as he held my stare. When he saw I was going with the notion that this was an actual threat against her and not a figment of Isla’s imagination, he sighed. “Delaney?”
“Maybe.” I tipped my head backwards. “Or someone else? Someone testing the water?”
Rye’s frown deepened. “Patrick should know better than to push, but… If he told someone else, then yeah, they could see if what he claims is true.”
I nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” I pointed at the CCTV I’d gotten from The Grand. “Which is why I’m looking through all this to see who stands out.”
“Fitzsimmons know you have this?”
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “He handed it over with a silver bow.”
Rye chuckled. “How did Isla take it?”
“Take what?” I asked without looking up.
“Take the fact you are actively looking into the fact someone is watching her.”
“She’s fine.” I shrugged it off. The truth was, Isla was fast asleep at the house, none the wiser about where I was or what I was doing .
“Mmhmm. Fine ,” Rye murmured, and I shot him a glare, causing him to grin.
“She handled it well,” I conceded, reviewing the footage in front of me. “She thought someone was watching her and she didn’t panic. She carried on about her day and remained watchful.” I looked over at him again. “She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”
“Is she?” Rye asked bluntly. “She’s not used to this. She’s not like us.” He held my look. “And you can’t keep her in a contained vacuum. Eventually, she will want to be her annoying independent self, and then she’ll see exactly what this life costs.”
I didn’t respond. Because I was already preparing for that. About how long she’d last in the world she’d always been sheltered from.
My world.
About how long I’d last if I had to choose between that world—and her.
Instead of admitting that to anyone, not really addressing it with myself, I handed Rye a list of names. “Double who’s on her. Keep it discreet. Take off Jayden. They don’t engage with her. I want her covered between work and here and anywhere in between.”
Rye skimmed the list and sniffed. “And if she notices?”
“She freaks out.” I kept my attention on the screen. “It’s okay if it’s my guys she’s freaked out over.” I gave a half shrug. “She shouldn’t notice. They’re good.”
“Okay then,” he mumbled but didn’t argue.
I leaned back in my chair, my fingers tapping slowly against the armrest. My mind was not fully on the threat but rather on the memory from last night in the living room when I entered the loft and saw her curled up on the couch, wearing my hoodie, her legs tucked under her, and the glass of wine she never finished.
Her voice had been steady as she told me what happened—but her hands had shook. Not big, visible tremors but just enough for me to see it when she thought I wasn’t looking. When she was done, she’d reached for my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And fuck, if it didn’t feel like it was.
I’d pulled her gently off the couch so she was standing in between my legs, and she’d stood there as I unbuttoned her pants, pushing them over and down her hips. Her panties had followed, and I’d carried her to the bed and spent the next hour making her forget that sense of fear.
Later, after we’d both gone quiet, she’d curled into me, leaning her head against my shoulder. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. Her breathing had slowed, and mine had matched it.
She’d fallen asleep like that. I’d held her for a while, just holding her. Then I got up, got dressed, and woke her. I drove her to the house and put her to bed, reassuring her I wouldn’t be too late.
Then I’d come back to Elixir and carried on my normal routine, ever watchful for those who might be paying too much attention to me.
I didn’t realize I’d zoned out until Rye’s voice pulled me back. “The order of that expensive vodka you love so much came through,” he told me. “Did you get the receipts?”
“Yeah,” I answered honestly, glad of normal work talk, knowing he had heard my warning last time. “How the fuck she sells that shit to anyone at full price is beyond me. Tastes like fucking bleach.”
Rye grinned. “She tells them you stock it in your clubs. ”
That actually made me smile. “She always was one to use her connections to her advantage.”
Rye grunted in agreement. I looked up and saw him watching me. He tapped the list. “I’ll tighten the leash.”
I watched him leave, then leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. I had enemies. Plenty. But now I had something I’d never had before.
A weakness.
And her name was Isla Wells.
With a sigh, I returned to watching the footage from The Grand. Their CCTV was limited. Anyone with an ounce of sense could easily bypass the cameras and move around the hotel unseen. I hadn’t caught sight of Jayden once. Lucky for him.
Isla, however, practically lit up the screen. She was clueless as to what she needed to do to avoid attention. In truth, any one of the guests in the hotel who had crossed her path yesterday had kept their eyes on her too long. Whether by design or fascination.
My girl was beautiful, and I didn’t enjoy other people appreciating the same fact.
I knew I’d be a possessive bastard when it came to her, but it surprised me how deep that ran as I made note of the faces of the people whose eyes dipped lower than chin level. The ones who kept their eyes trained on her ass I also took note of.
I’d been accused of many things in my life, most of them true. Suspicious bastard was one I heard all too often, usually from Rye. But I didn’t like coincidences. Especially not the kind that involved Isla.
My fingers drummed off the armrest as I watched the footage, and my mind turned over my thoughts .
I picked up my phone and dialed. I didn’t have to think about the number. I knew it by heart.
“Yeah?” answered the person on the other end.
“I want eyes on Julian Turner,” I said without preamble. “Full detail. Discreet. I want to know who he’s seeing, what he’s spending, and where he’s spending it. If he so much as sneezes near someone on Patrick Delaney’s radar, I want to know.”
Silence. And then they asked, “Usual fee?”
“Usual fee,” I confirmed.
“Copy that.”
I hung up.
Julian . Proving to be a thorn in my side even after his debt had been paid.
Would he sell Isla out? Not intentionally. But the timing was too clean. The kidnapping, the way Delaney’s men had been sniffing around since…no, there was something more here.
I trusted Rye. I trusted Isla.
I didn’t trust anyone else.
I opened a folder on my laptop, the one I had on Julian. I started it years ago, and over time, it grew as did my wariness about associating him with my business. He was a good architect with a great eye for design.
Shit judgment for everything else.
His debts had been steep from the start. More than any poker game should’ve allowed for. They’d only climbed as the years went on. So either Julian was in deeper than he admitted—or someone wanted him to be.
Or wanted me to believe it.
There was always a difference between bad luck and bait.
I tapped my finger against the mouse, opened the subfolder, and scanned the last few notes. A transfer from his business account two weeks before Isla was taken. A cash withdrawal the day before.
On their own, they were inconsequential.
But together?
Together, they stank.
I picked up the burner phone and dialed again.
“I need a sit-down with Patrick Delaney,” I said. “Make it clean. Make it official. No shadows. Neutral territory.”
The person on the other end exhaled sharply. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said flatly. “I’m requesting this through the correct channels.”
Another pause. “Fine. I’ll make the call.”
I placed the phone on my desk. I wasn’t mafia; I didn’t want to be. Did I do work for them? Yes. My line of work was requested by a number of people, but it didn’t mean they owned me. No one owned me. That didn’t make me arrogant; it made me smart. I stayed smart by adhering to their rules. If you wanted to kill a player on their board, you requested a meeting. You made it official. Delayney hadn’t made a move, and now I was tired of waiting.
I closed the laptop, put it in its secret spot, and left my office. I took the stairs down to the lower level and into the parking lot. As I drove out of the underground parking lot, I looked in my rearview mirror as Elixir faded behind me.
This was my town. My club. My world.
But the minute they’d come for Isla.
They’d stepped onto my battlefield.
And I didn’t lose battles. Not when she was the prize.
The drive to the house was quiet. I passed a few cars on the road, early-morning folks going to work, ready to clock on when I was clocking off. The sky was still overcast when I stepped out of the car in front of the house .
Gray light hung low above. Cold. Unforgiving. It suited my mood.
I let myself in, knowing the housekeeper wasn’t due until later. The front door clicked open under my hand, and I stepped into the house's stillness.
It was quiet. Soft. Telling me that she was still asleep.
Good.
The door locked automatically behind me, as I slid my jacket off, and made my way upstairs with the kind of deliberate calm that only came after adrenaline had burned itself out.
The hallway light was dim, and the bedroom door was cracked open just slightly.
I pushed it open the rest of the way.
She was curled on her side, one arm tucked under her head, hair messy around her face and spread out on the pillow behind her. She always looked too perfect in sleep. Like the world hadn’t earned the right to rough her up yet.
The T-shirt she’d stolen from me was slipping off her shoulder. Her legs were tangled in the sheets.
Seeing her like that caused something in my chest to pull tight. I crossed the room without a sound and sat on the edge of the bed. I brushed the hair gently from her cheek, causing her to stir.
“Mmm…” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “Zayn?”
“I’m here.”
She blinked slowly, and I waited for her to come fully awake. When she did, her eyes softened.
“Is it time to get up?” she asked sleepily. “Or are you just home?”
Both .
“How are you?” I asked instead. My voice was low. Steady. “I didn’t like leaving you last night. ”
“I was okay.” Warm hazel eyes looked up at me, and then she stretched, settling back down into the pillows with a sigh. “What time is it?”
“Before five.”
Isla’s face scrunched in displeasure. “You’re late,” she commented. Not an accusation. Just a statement. She reached for my hand, her fingers sliding between mine like they were always meant to be there. “Did something happen?”
“Not tonight.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. I contemplated how much to tell her. “But soon.” I watched her eyes narrow as I spoke. “Things are moving. And I don’t like what I’m seeing.”
Her eyes searched mine. More alert. “Moving? What things? Is it because of me?”
I kissed her knuckles again. “It’s not for you to worry about.”
“Is it Julian?”
My lips twitched as she ignored me. “Maybe.” I didn’t lie. “It might be more.”
Isla sat up slowly, the sheet slipping down with her. “Tell me?”
“No.” I cupped her face, bringing her lips closer to mine. “You don’t need to worry.” I dropped a kiss on her lips. “Trust me.”
“I do.” She looked as surprised as I felt at how quickly she said it.
“Then let me handle it.”
She nodded, but I saw the flicker of doubt behind her eyes. Not for herself. For me. For Julian as well, I was sure. I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her.
“It’ll be okay,” I murmured against her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you. ”
“What about Julian?” Isla pulled back, her eyes searching mine. “Can you say the same for him?”
“Julian’s his own man,” I told her, pulling away and getting to my feet. I started to undress. Isla watched me from the bed, uncertainty at my words causing her eyes to widen.
“He lost his job,” she reminded me.
I snorted. “Did he?”
I pulled my shirt from my pants, unbuttoning it as I watched her frown at my question.
“He said he did…”
“But?”
She glanced at me, her words stalling as I pushed my pants down, stepped out of them, and laid them over the chair.
“Do you have to look like that?” Isla suddenly demanded. “It’s so distracting, especially in the morning.”
I looked down at my body and looked back up at her. “This is what you get,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, you need to cover it up.”
I slept in shorts or nothing. With Isla in the bed beside me, it was often nothing. With a sigh, I got into bed beside her, still wearing my boxers. “Happier?”
“Well…” she mumbled. She twisted in the bed until she was facing me. “He said he was fired,” she started with the determined gleam in her eye, I knew very well. “But it’s his company. How can he be fired?”
“It’s his name above the door,” I corrected. “Doesn’t mean he still owns it or part of it.”
She pushed her hair back from her face, watching me as she thought about it. “His partner bought him out?”
“No.” I watched her as I leaned back against the pillows. “I did.”
Isla gaped at me. “ Why ? When? ”
“Few years ago. Julian’s a messy gambler, and he needed cash. I was looking for a new investment.”
“You’re his boss ?”
“God, no. Nothing so regimented. He and what’s-his-name still run it. He draws a salary from it instead of dividends and shares. What’s-his-name and…” I hesitated. “What is his name?”
“Kevin Shepherd.”
“Shepherd! Thank you, babe.” I leaned forward and kissed her. “He gets financial security in that his partner isn’t going to gamble his business away, and Julian gets to turn up to work every morning without the strain of owning the business.” I shrugged. “It works for everyone.”
“Then why did Kevin fire him?”
“If he fired him, I suppose it would be for the same reason most people would let someone go who wasn’t pulling their weight, because they got tired of them fucking up their business.”
Isla looked away, trying to mask her sadness. “I didn’t know…”
I felt her pain. She was too soft. Too innocent.
“He’s got a problem, Isla.”
She turned back to me in confusion.
“He’s addicted. Taking risks he knows he shouldn’t take. You can’t help him until he wants to help himself.”
Tears spilled over, but she nodded slowly, the look in her eyes changing from soft to determined. “Then we get him somewhere that can.” Isla leaned forward as she spoke, my shirt dipping low on her body, giving me the perfect view. “We put him into a program or something.” She saw my look and shook her head. “I’m not asking you to pay for it. I have money that I can put towards it.”
Over my dead fucking body. If he was involved how I suspected he was involved, she wasn’t spending one dime on his miserable ass.
“Let’s put that on hold.” I pulled her closer and pushed her T-shirt up her body. “You’re flashing me and looking far too fucking delicious.” I dipped my head into the crook of her neck, tasting her. “I’m awake, you’re awake, why waste a perfect opportunity?”
“We can’t have sex all the time.” She giggled as her body scooted down the bed to make way for me. “Promise we’ll talk about this more?”
“Okay.” I captured her lips with mine and stopped any other protests.
Later, as we lay exhausted, the only sound in the room our heavy breathing as we both calmed down from the highs of our morning sex session; I almost expected her to pick up her train of thought.
Instead, she lay curled in my arms, my eyes closed in contentment, and we stayed like that for a long time. Her heartbeat steadied against mine. My mind was quieter than it had been in days.
Everything else could wait.
Right now, this— she —was the only thing that mattered.