Chapter 21
Isa
The address that Paisley had shared led them just outside the hub of downtown and into an older neighborhood where modern office buildings sat next to golf courses.
Dated apartment complexes wearing new faces lined the streets.
They turned off of Seventh and onto a quiet palm-lined street, where two-story white buildings with black-tiled roofs sat in the shade of mature trees.
They parked in one of a handful of visitors’ spots situated outside a wood fence.
Behind the fence, rising like sun-faded flowers, were umbrellas spread wide to catch the sun’s rays.
The entry gate was flung open in welcome, offering glimpses of the inside courtyard.
Despite its modern dressings, the complex’s age was still visible in the way each apartment door faced the courtyard.
A sparkling blue pool, attended by the chaise lounges, held center stage.
A couple of those chairs were occupied by brave residents willing to risk baring their skin to the triple-digit heat of the summer sun.
Locke turned the car off then draped an arm over the steering wheel, cocking his head to take in the complex through the windshield. “This is Angel’s idea of laying low?”
“It works, doesn’t it?” Isa released her seat belt as Locke did the same.
Anger churned in her gut, leaving her slightly nauseated.
“No one would associate this place with him.” This whole situation was riling old memories.
She glared at the tranquil scene as the uglier ones replayed in her mind.
“Though I’m not sure he thought it through. ”
“How so?”
“Think about it, Locke.”
Isa could feel him watching her, seeing too much.
She was struggling to get out from under old guilt.
Carter was a dick—had to be to work for Angel—but the fact that he was reeling in girls like Paisley and slowly setting them up until they disappeared into Angel’s network made her want to scream in fury.
“In a place like this”—she motioned to the doors lining the walkway—“you play your music too loud, someone’s going to complain. There’s no way people don’t notice when girls move in and out. Someone has to be asking questions.”
“Do they?”
Locke’s solemn question cut through her rising frustration. She looked at him. He had pushed his sunglasses up, his startlingly blue eyes clear and cool.
“Think about it, Isa. Say this place is owned or rented by the agency. Moving models in and out would come with the territory. If neighbors ask, it’s easily explained.
Up-and-coming talent are looking to set down roots.
The nature of the business is transitory.
Besides, most people don’t automatically go to the darkest intent when trying to rationalize things. They’re happy not knowing.”
Still reeling from listening to Paisley tell a story that mirrored her own, Isa was fighting to close doors she’d thought had been long locked away, as the regrets slipped free.
There had been a time when she’d believed Angel’s promises to help her live on her own so she could prove to her father she could do it.
Even when her instincts whispered warnings, she ignored how he had chipped away at what made her her, reshaping her into something less.
She really hoped the dark-haired lawyer would be able to rein Paisley in, because if she failed, they’d lose her.
Isa could see that in the flashes of guilt and self-disgust Paisley had tried to hide.
On some level, the girl knew the line she was teetering on.
She just needed someone to reach out and help her find her balance.
From the busy street just behind them, a harsh blare of a horn cut through her thoughts.
“Isa, talk to me.”
She turned to Locke, and because she’d made the decision last night and because she needed to release some of the poison, she told him.
“I was her once, Locke.” The admission came out low and hard as she tried to forgive that younger self.
“Believing the lie even when I knew, I knew…” She pressed a fist against her chest. “They were lying to me. For a long time, I couldn’t find a way out.
Didn’t want to because I believed it was what I deserved. ”
“But you did get out.”
“Only because someone else paid the price first.” Guilt dug its claws in, sinking through remembered cries for help and the stink of fear and blood.
“If I’d made the decision sooner, if I’d been braver, I could have stopped him.
” The details of that last horrific night when she’d run from Angel—from the things she hadn’t stopped—crowded her throat, leaving her choked.
Locke’s eyes warmed even as he challenged her. “Could you really have helped? Be honest. You were a teen, and he was a rising member of a well-known, vicious street crew. The fact that you escaped—much less what you’ve made of yourself—is a minor miracle.”
She didn’t feel like she’d escaped. In fact, she felt like she was still running. “But he’s still spreading his poison.”
“So this time, we stop him.”
He made it sound so simple. She just wasn’t sure if her idea of stopping Angel was the same as Locke’s. She reached for the door. “Let’s go find Isaiah.”
They both got out, and the Dodge’s doors thudded closed.
Locke and Isa headed toward the open entry gate.
A quick check of the property map, helpfully posted just in front of the wooden fence, directed them to the second floor of the back side of the courtyard.
She started forward only to be brought up short when Locke caught her hand and tugged her gently back.
She half turned and gave him a frown. “What?”
He wrapped his other hand around the base of her neck. Her free hand came up and flattened against his chest as he leaned in. “Take a breath, reinita,” he warned. “You can’t walk in looking ready to commit murder. We’re just here to visit Isaiah.”
He had a point. Isa dropped her head until her forehead rested against his sternum.
She drew in a deep breath, taking in his comforting scent, as she shoved all her messy emotions down.
It took two more inhalations before the rigid line of her shoulders relaxed and she could curve her lips into a natural smile. Then she pulled back.
Locke studied her for a long moment before an approving gleam appeared in his eyes. He used his hold on her neck to bring her close enough to press a quick kiss to her lips, then he let her go. “Ready?”
She tightened her hold on his hand and nodded.
Together, they walked in and started along the path skirting the iron pool fence.
Within it, a very curvy young woman lounged on a pool float, engrossed in her e-reader.
Near the shallow end, where the steps dropped into the water, a harried mother kept an eye on a couple of smaller humans intent on splashing everything, and muffled music drifted down from behind windows and plaster.
Underneath one of the umbrellas, an older woman tracked Locke and Isa’s progress with curiosity. “Hello!” she called out.
Locke didn’t slow, but he did give her a charming grin and a wave. “Morning.”
Isa managed to do the same, and it seemed to satisfy the woman.
At the covered stairwell at the side of the building, they climbed the stairs.
They walked along the second-floor walkway, crossed over to the third building that jutted away from the pool, and continued down to the far end.
A sail canopy stretched over a paved area with large pots of colorful flowers surrounding a patio table, a built-in BBQ, and a stretch of artificial turf bookended by wooden cornhole boards.
They passed the open door of a laundry room.
Bright laughter came from inside as someone talked excitedly about a recent date, and a gust of air brought a barrage of flowery scents Isa recognized as fabric softener.
Locke came to a stop and tugged his hand free, his chin angled up, his gaze sweeping around them, and the air around him sharpening.
She shot him a look. “What?”
“He’s been here.”
Her attention shot to the last door on the end, which belonged to Isaiah. “Shit,” she whispered, dread clinging to her like a deranged monkey. She stayed behind Locke as he stalked to the door. Knowing Angel, she braced herself for what they would find inside.
Locke stayed to the side of the door and stretched out his arm, prepared to knock, only to stop and drop it.
Isa realized the door wasn’t completely shut, as if the latch had failed to catch.
He took a step back, his gaze running over the doorframe.
Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it, because his face darkened.
He touched a finger to the top corner of the doorframe, and a sigil burst into silent, burning light.
It took Isa a second to recognize the silencing spell that covered the doorway.
They had no way to tell what was happening inside.
Her dread froze into an icy knot. She looked behind them, where the rest of the world continued uninterrupted, then back at Locke, who had pulled a small but deadly-looking blade from somewhere.
He handed it to her and motioned for her to stay put.
Even though she wanted to argue, she knew better. She took the knife from him, and her fingers tightened around the grip. It wasn’t much, but it was better than going in empty-handed.
Locke put a finger to his lips and then held up three fingers, starting a silent countdown. His last finger came down. He rolled through the door, staying low.
Nerves strung tight, she stood there, heart pounding, ears straining as nothing but deafening silence answered. Time distorted, stretching interminably, as she waited for Locke’s signal. It couldn’t have been long before he was back, reaching to drag her inside.