Chapter 23 #2
She doesn’t. She can’t. No one, except Cillian, Dare, and my da, can matter.
I’m intrigued by her. With as much as I push her away, I want her closer. Want to know everything about her.
And maybe I should. Maybe learning about her will be what breaks this spell she seems to have us all under.
And fuck that.
I want to stay in control, and there is no way I’ll let her, or anyone else, have control over my feelings. Over me.
My gaze locks onto her. “Tell me about yourself.”
Isla pauses, the somewhat gritty but otherwise edible mashed potatoes on a fork, suspended mid-lift on its way to her pouty lips and that sinful mouth.
She blinks. “You want to know about me?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And why is that?” I lean closer to her, and she doesn’t move away, finally lifting the fork all the way and taking the bite, her lips caressing the fork, and I have never been more jealous of anything than I am of that fork right now.
“You don’t even like me. Why would you care? I mean, all you do is order me around. You either ignore me, fuck me, or are mean to me.”
Guilt burns hot at the back of my neck. “It’s not like I try to be cruel on purpose.”
“You’re not cruel, not exactly, just... cold. Detached. You want to keep me at arms’ length, and that shows in the way you act with me.”
I nod. “Maybe you’re right. Still, are you ever going to tell me about yourself?”
“Uh… I like to write.”
I tilt my head, smiling slightly. “What do you like to write?"
“Just... little essays. Short stories, things like that.” She looks proud rather than embarrassed.
“Make any money at it?”
“Some.”
“Is that a career or a hobby?”
She seems to hesitate. “More of a hobby, for now.”
I nod. “Then maybe you should consider turning it into a career, if you love it so much and if you are able to make money from it.”
She smiles. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t think you’d have that viewpoint.”
I snort. “Why, because I’m a CEO? I’ll have you know I followed my passion. My passion just happens to be corporate business. Ma always said the universe provides, so if you’re having fun and making money, I say do it.”
“I didn't know anyone’s passion was corporate business.”
“Well, now you do.”
Da would box my ears for it. He’d want me to say the life, running the clan, is my passion. It isn’t. It never was, even if I’d never admit it to him. But here, with Isla, I feel like I can just allow myself to be truthful.
I have no idea why I feel so comfortable telling her this, but I tell myself it is because of our unique situation. After all, who is she going to tell? It’s not like I’ll let her leave here.
She might not be Maggie, but she knows too much. She is a liability.
Or that’s what I keep telling myself, because the thought of her not being here has me twisting up inside for whatever reason. So, I’ll keep her prisoner here. Be the bad guy.
Although, the more I look at her, swinging her feet in the highchair, I think maybe Dare’s right. Maybe she wouldn’t leave us anyway.
She takes a sip of the water in front of her, before using a napkin to pat her plump lips. “What else are you passionate about?”
“Order. Control.”
“Boring,” she sings in a teasing voice. “Don’t you like it when things are a little messy?”
“Are you asking if I like it when you’re a little messy?”
Her eyes drop to her half-eaten plate of food. After a couple of seconds, she nods slowly.
I chuckle low in my throat. “You know I do.”
“Then why are you so mean to me all the time?”
That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Why am I so mean to her all the time?
I can’t seem to stop my sharp tongue when she’s around, can’t seem to stop picking fights.
Deep down, I know the truth. I know why.
It’s because I want you to myself.
I keep that thought buried deep. Even from myself.
“Not used to keeping company with women, I suppose.”
She snorts. “That’s a lie, with the way you look. There's no way you're not beating women off with a stick.”
“A big stick?” I smile, and she huffs out a breath, blowing her bangs out of her face in a habit that calls more to me than it has any right to.
“You’re seriously trying to tell me you don’t take home women?”
“Of course, I do. Just not often, like Dare.”
She chuckles. “Dare is a wildcard, for sure.”
I don’t like the way she talks about him. “Don’t tell me you’ve caught feelings for him.”
She looks up at me, her expression curious instead of guarded.
“Bet you wouldn’t like that."
Fucking right.
I roll my shoulders around. “Wouldn’t bother me.”
“Liar.”
I don’t respond, shoving the mediocre dinner into my mouth.
She shrugs. “Fine, keep quiet all you want. I know the truth. Let’s change the subject, shall we?”
I nod, getting up to put the dishes in the dishwasher.
“How’d it go at your da’s?”
I stiffen. “Fine.”
“You don’t sound like it was particularly fine.”
“I’m just... tired.” I run a hand through my hair, and she walks up to me, leaning in close and putting her hand on the back of my shoulder.
“That’s because you never sleep. Come on, at least come cuddle with me on the couch. You owe me after that spanking.”
I bark out a laugh and follow her, unable to resist.
I don’t plan on sleeping, but she’s right–my body is exhausted. I can at least rest.
I sit down on the couch, and she instantly cuddles up next to me, her head on my shoulder.
“Tell me more about your childhood.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have many fun childhood stories.”
She bites her lip. “My da wasn’t a good guy, either.”
I frown. “Thought you said he was an investment banker.”
She shrugs. “I lied.”
“Of course, you did.” I narrow my eyes at her, but I’m not feeling particularly incensed. Tired, mostly, on the verge of dozing off.
“Hey, maybe I didn’t want to air my dirty laundry to the people who kidnapped me.”
“I suppose that’s fair enough.”
She yawns, and it makes me yawn.
I should get up, make a pot of coffee. But my eyelids are drifting shut, and Isla feels so warm and small next to me.
No, I have to stay alert. I can’t trust her not to run.
God, I’m so tired; my eyes are so heavy… I’m letting down my guard, and I can’t seem to care one bit.
Maybe I can close my eyes for just one second…