9. Isla
9
ISLA
“Yoo-hoo!” Riley called out. “Is it safe to come in?”
She stood in the front doorway with her hands over her eyes, waiting for me to answer. I sat up, pulling the blanket over my naked body, rubbing my tired eyes. “Yeah, come in.”
She peeked between her fingers, then looked around at the destruction with an approving nod. “Nice.”
“We wrecked the lamp,” I muttered. “I’m pretty sure the landlady won’t be happy about that.”
“Just tell her it was Kavanaugh. She’ll understand.”
I snorted, trying to stand while keeping the blanket in place.
“So, where is it safe to sit?”
I looked around at the furniture, wincing as I remembered everything that happened after that first time. There was the couch…that was out. And the arm chair…it probably wasn’t safe to sit there. And then we headed for the kitchen for a snack…and we ended up on the table. The counter probably needed to be sterilized as well.
“Great, so don’t sit anywhere. Good to know,” she snorted, walking over to the fireplace. “I’ll just sit here. I’m assuming the brick was too rough to fuck on.”
“I guess we’ll find out next time,” I grinned .
“You’re cleaning this whole place from top to bottom, missy.”
“Yes, mother.”
She sighed at that. “If only I was your mother. I’d have you scrubbing the floors as well. As it is, we have more important things to do today.”
“Like what?” I asked, brushing a handful of hair behind my ear.
“Like getting a new lamp, for starters. And we should probably get some more groceries since candy will not hold us over for long.”
“I suppose I could drag my ass off the floor for that.”
“And since Shawn ripped up the divorce papers, you’ll have to contact your lawyer.”
I groaned, not wanting to think about that after the amazing night I had. “Let’s forget about that for today.”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, “but we need groceries and we still have to unpack.”
I hated the idea of unpacking. It was so much work, and getting groceries was …not exactly fun, but at least I got to choose foods I liked. “I’ll do the grocery shopping.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Fine. I’ll start unpacking.”
Grinning at her, I did my best to walk upstairs with the blanket still wrapped around me. I nearly fell four times, and by the time I made it upstairs, I was thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of going grocery shopping. Still, I got showered and let my hair hang down my back in wet strands. After dressing, I mumbled a halfhearted goodbye and headed for the store.
But once I got there, I found myself equally annoyed by the protest going on just outside its doors. “Who protests at a grocery store?”
I shoved the door open and walked to the growing mob, holding up signs that relayed their anger over…I cocked my head at the sign, sure I was seeing this wrong. “Seriously?”
“As a heart attack,” a man said, coming up to me with a sign. “Do you want one?”
“To protest the unfair treatment of shelf space for…Funyuns?”
He looked at me like I was strange. “They are the most delicious snack ever.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never actually had one. ”
A flash of horror crossed his face, quickly followed by a grin so wide it rivaled the intensity of the sun. “Then allow me to introduce you to the delicious treat.” He pulled a snack pack out of a satchel slung around his shoulder and handed it over. “Once you try it, you’ll never go back to those boring flavors.”
It was a little strange taking food from this man, but it was sealed and he seemed desperate to prove that Funyuns were the best. So, I opened the package and popped one in my mouth. At first, it was a little strange. Who ate onions as a snack? But the longer I chewed it, the more I could see his point. “It’s unique, flavorful, and…surprising.”
“See?” he grinned. “I knew I’d get you!”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
“So, you want to join the picket line?”
“Unfortunately, I have to get groceries.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” he frowned. “But what if I helped you with your grocery shopping? Would that entice you?”
“Are you going to force me to get Funyuns?”
“Well, it would be pretty weird if you didn’t,” he snorted. “I’m Fox.”
“Isla.”
His eyes widened and he yanked me closer. “Isla…Red hair. Green eyes. You’re Kavanaugh’s girl!”
What, did everyone know me as Kavanaugh’s girl? We’d only slept together last night. How did word spread so fast? “And you are?”
“Fox!” he grinned, slapping his chest with both hands. “Don’t tell me he didn’t tell you about me. Of course, he didn’t. He was too busy thinking about you. I can see why.”
“Um…”
“Oh, don’t worry.” He held up his finger. “Happily married. Man, I am so stoked about this. Allow me to be the first to introduce you to the amazing Funyuns party,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and guided me into the store, grabbing my shopping cart for me. “And after Funyuns, we’ll move on to all the necessary food groups for dating someone at OPS.”
“There are food groups? ”
He chuckled in amusement. “Don’t worry. You’ll catch on. Meat department first. It is essential that any man working at OPS have his weekly fix of shawarma. Now, I would personally eat it every day, but some people don’t like that.”
“And by some people…”
“Psychos. Dead to rights psychos.”
I sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I’ve never tried that either.”
“Not a problem. You can’t be expected to know it all on your first week here. I’m guessing you’ve never tried wheatgrass or pickled pig’s feet either. And then we have to get you started throwing knives. I’ll get you your own set. Do you care about a color?”
Before I could answer, he moved on.
“I’m sort of the trainer for all the women. You’ll get used to it.”
My eyes widened in understanding. “The women at the silo! I saw them throwing knives yesterday!”
“They have their own training room,” he said proudly. “They all use it. Except for Eva. She’s got her own room.”
“Because she’s dangerous?”
“Because she’s the boss’s wife, and she was my first.”
“Lover?”
He stopped and gawked at me. “No, the first woman I trained. I could never do that to the boss. How’s your musical knowledge?”
My head spun at the sudden change of subjects. “Uh…”
“My favorite is Oklahoma . Or West Side Story. But you know, Kiss Me, Kate is really good too. It’s just so hard to decide.”
I felt terrible for admitting this, though I wasn’t sure why. “I haven’t ever seen a musical.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to me with an expression that resembled pure horror. I imagined that’s how I looked when Shawn attacked me, though that was because of actual violence. I wasn’t sure how this compared, but clearly, he wasn’t dealing with the news well.
“But I’ll be sure to watch one right away,” I rushed on, hoping to soothe him.
His shoulders sagged in relief and he continued walking me through the store, tossing things in the cart that I didn’t actually want or need. Jars of pickles, bags of Funyuns, so much meat I could never eat it all…and then we got to the nut section.
“Now, I’m not a huge nut fan, but every house needs a few canisters. Pistachios, for sure. Cashews are another good choice…pecans, walnuts…”
I watched as he tossed one canister after another into the cart. I didn’t even like nuts, but I wasn’t about to cause another panic attack in this man. And as I watched him, I wondered if he really worked at OPS. Maybe he was really some crazy person who wanted to work there, and made it up in his mind that he did. He certainly didn’t look stable enough to work with weapons, not that I knew a lot about the company. Maybe he was really an accountant or something.
“—and Cash wanted me to torture her, but I knew musicals were the way to go. You can really tell a lot about a person by the musicals they like.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the fact that his boss wanted him to torture someone. But my curiosity got the better of me, no matter how I tried to push it away. “And is that something you do often?”
“Watch musicals?”
“No, torture people.”
“Only when necessary. Mostly for information. Though, before I met Anna, I might have tortured you for not liking Funyuns.”
I stared at him, a little more nervous because of the seriousness in his eyes. Then he burst out laughing. “I’m just joking. I would never torture you for not liking Funyuns. Though, I might make sure no one ever found your body.”
And then he walked ahead of me, babbling on about the many ways to make shawarma. I just hoped he didn’t make it with the bodies of the people he tortured.
“Really, you don’t have to help me,” I said to Fox, hoping he would leave me alone. I had the distinct feeling that Fox was something of an acquired taste. I didn’t not like him. I just wasn’t ready for all that was Fox so early in the morning. I hadn’t even had coffee yet .
“Like I would let you do this all on your own when your hubby is out of town.”
“We’re not married,” I said, shuffling through the house to the kitchen at the back.
“Right, but like that’ll last. Give it time.”
“Fox, I’ve been here for one day.”
“I know,” he grinned at me. “You work fast.”
That wasn’t at all what I meant, but I wasn’t going to argue with him about it. Not when I was trying to escape him instead of invite conversation. I set the bags on the table and headed back out to the car. I still had what felt like several hundred bags waiting for me. And all of them were filled with things I didn’t want. I wasn’t even sure why I purchased the items other than the fact that Fox practically forced it on me. I didn’t know how to tell him no.
I gathered another load and was about to head inside when I caught sight of the gray car idling down the road again. Could it really be a coincidence that the car was always there? Maybe I’d talk to Fox about it. After all, he worked for a security company. He had to know what to do.
I hauled the bags inside, doing my best not to turn and look at the car one last time. It was too far away for me to make out the license plate, and I was shit with recognizing what the make of the car was. “Hey, Fox!”
“Yes, my lady?” he asked, giving a sweeping bow.
“Do you think it’s weird that the same car has been idling at the curb since yesterday?”
“Idling all day or was there and then left and came back?”
“Well, it left yesterday after Riley and I were staring at it.”
He stiffened, then went storming past me. I quickly set down the bags and rushed after him, but when I got out there, the car was gone.
“Where was it?”
I pointed down the road. “On the left side.”
“Have you ever seen anyone get in or out?”
“No.”
He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. The way he watched the road let me know that not only did he find it odd, but he wanted to check it out. “Stay here.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing?—”
“Then you’ll have no problem staying here and putting away groceries while I check it out,” he said, shooting me a silly grin.
I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t about to argue with him either. There were still groceries in the car, but I’d get them later. I headed inside and started unpacking what was on the kitchen table. When I ran out of space, I started unloading them on the counter. By the time I finished, he was back inside, hauling the last of the groceries to the counter.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Yep.” His clipped tone was only to appease me. “Has anyone been following you?”
“No. But I’ve only been here a day,” I said, smirking at him.
“Well, I did say you move fast.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing the eggs to put away. I was just about to open the door when one of the eggs wobbled and fell to the floor, landing right next to my shoe. “Gross,” I grimaced, pulling open the door.
A loud explosion threw me backward as the door to the fridge slammed into my body. My back hit the round table in the kitchen, sending me sprawling over it as the door slid over my body and hit the wall behind me. My legs flipped over my head and I hit the floor hard on my knees, then crumpled with my face smashed against the floor.
I whimpered in pain as I stared across the kitchen floor at the flames dying out from the fridge. Something was wrong. I couldn’t move.
“Isla!”
I heard Fox calling out to me, but as panic tore through me, the only thing I could think about was the overwhelming amount of pain my body was in. A million things ran through my head on a reel. Where was Riley? Was I on fire? Why wasn’t the whole house burning?
“Isla!” Fox shouted, kneeling down beside me. “Are you okay?”
I was shaking. I could feel it spreading through my whole body as I laid there. I still hadn’t figured out exactly what happened. I dropped an egg. It landed by my shoe. Was my shoe covered in yolk? I couldn’t remember.
“Can you move?”
I looked at Fox strangely, wondering why he was asking me that. Move. Why wouldn’t I be able to move? That was an odd question, wasn’t it?
“I need an ambulance!”
I heard the words and realized he was saying that for me. I hadn’t actually spoken yet. He probably thought I was damaged. Was I? I started to push myself up when a man burst into the kitchen, his blue eyes taking in the way I was laying on the floor. Something about him struck me hard and I shoved to my knees, my hands shaking hard as I forced myself onto my feet.
“You,” I whispered, my voice coming out raspy and a little shaky.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the fire burning out where it had just been raging. Fire. In my house. Riley.
The man marched over to me and grabbed my hand, tugging me into the other room. I followed his steps, but felt off-kilter the whole way. There was a fire. A bomb. It had to be. Refrigerators didn’t explode for no reason. Someone tried to kill me.
“Are you alright?”
I heard what blue eyes said, but I couldn’t force my brain to think of a response. Someone had tried to kill me. I took two steps back, forcing my feet to move away from the man who stared at me intently. My heart beat harder in my chest and I rubbed at it, feeling a little off. Something was wrong. Why was I breathing so hard? Why did everything in my body feel like it was on pins and needles?
“You need to sit down,” he urged, but I backed away, gasping for air.
“This…” I glanced to the kitchen as black spots formed in front of my eyes.
“Take a deep breath,” he urged, standing back, but holding out his hand to calm me. “Hey! Look at me.”
I did as he asked, peeling my eyes away from the crispiness in my kitchen. Someone tried to kill me. A bomb. Who did that? Who planted bombs in someone’s house? Fox. But he was here with me. Would he have tried to kill me when he could get hurt?
“Breathe. Take a fucking breath.”
I wanted to. It would probably relieve the growing pressure in my chest, but my body didn’t want to listen. I started swaying, trying desperately to stay on my feet.
“You’re panicking. I need you to calm down.”
I nodded, but that didn’t help things. My head started to roll, but before I could collapse, he was there, catching me in his arms. I stared up into his blue eyes as he urged me to breathe.
“In and out. You can do it.”
I could do it. It was simple. I just needed to take a breath.
“Fucking breathe!” he shouted.
I sucked in a harsh breath. My lungs expanded, finally relieving the pain in my head from lack of oxygen.
“That’s it. Take another breath. You can do it.”
It wasn’t any easier the second time. The pain in my chest was too intense, but I pushed past it as he sat me upright and lifted my arm over my head. Somehow, it made it better. I sucked in another ragged breath until it wasn’t quite so hard to fill my lungs with air. Little by little, the spots disappeared from my vision until all I was left with were chills racing over my body. I was shaking and I knew it, but I didn’t know how to stop it.
“You’re freezing,” the man stated, grabbing a throw from the back of the couch. He wrapped it around my shoulders and tucked it tight in front of me. Then he grabbed my arm and pressed his fingers to my wrist. I stared at the dirt on my hands.
Ash.
Soot.
There was a fire in my kitchen.
A bomb in my fridge.
“Someone tried to kill me,” I murmured.
“You’re lucky,” he muttered. “The door blocked the worst of the explosion.”
For some reason, that made me laugh. A hilarious chuckle slipped from my lips, but I quickly tamped it down. This was not the time to laugh.
My eyes drifted up to meet his. “I know you.”
His eyes flicked to mine for a moment, holding me tight in his gaze, but then he looked away. “You’re okay,” he said calmly, almost like he was trying to convince me.
Was I okay? I hurt everywhere, though it was like it was all pushed to the background, refusing to let me feel the full strength of it. But the shaking…I couldn’t stop shaking. And my teeth started to chatter as if I was a set of toy teeth that rattled around the table when wound.
I tried to grasp the edge of the blanket and pull it tighter, but my hands wouldn’t work. I couldn’t stop shaking.
There was a bomb.
My fridge exploded.
My sister could have been here.
“Riley…”
My eyes drifted to meet his. Blue eyes stared at me. That was all I could see. His features were lost on me as I focused solely on his eyes. They kept me grounded. I knew I was on the verge of losing it, but as long as I watched him, everything would be okay.
It would be okay, right?
“Isla,” the man demanded. “Where’s your sister?”
“She’s…”
“Isla, focus. Where’s Riley?”
I heard his words. I knew I was supposed to answer. But somewhere deep down in the pit of my stomach, I felt like answering was a bad idea. I didn’t know this man.
I knew his eyes.
But that wasn’t the same thing. This man entered my house, knew my name, was demanding to know where my sister was. I started shaking harder and squeezed my eyes closed. This couldn’t be happening.
“Shawn,” I whispered.
“Your sister is with your ex?”
How did he know these things? No, this was wrong. This was so very wrong. I pushed to my feet suddenly, the blanket falling from my shoulders. I paced the room, swiping my hand over my forehead as I tried to piece together what was happening. There was a man in my house who knew my sister—knew my ex! Why was he here? Why was he staring at me with those blue eyes?
And why the hell was there a bomb in my fridge?
I rubbed at the growing ache in my chest, trying to push it away. My shaking legs became harder to move. I felt like I was walking through quicksand, slowly being dragged into the pit of hell that refused to release me.
“This can’t be happening.”
“Isla, where is Riley?”
Suddenly, he was standing in front of me, his eyes bright and determined. Who was this man? Why was he demanding these answers from me?
His hand stretched out in front of him, slowly moving toward me. I watched like it was on a film reel in slow motion. Was he going to touch me?
“Hey.” His voice was soft and calming despite the way his eyes swirled with questions. I found myself looking up into them, allowing them to calm me when all I wanted to do was run. “Your sister.”
I found myself answering without any further reservation. I didn’t know why, but something about him begged me to trust him. So, I took a chance. “I don’t know. She was here, but…I didn’t hear her when I came home.”
He nodded slightly. “Fox! Find Riley!”
Fox. I completely forgot about him. Was he okay? Did he get hit in the blast?
This man was taking charge. Why was he taking charge? It occurred to me for a brief moment that he knew Fox. That had to be a good thing, right? If he knew Fox, then he had to be a good guy. Fox wouldn’t allow someone in my house unless he was one hundred percent sure the man wouldn’t hurt me.
It was going to be okay. I was going to be okay. I nodded repeatedly as the man stared at me, as I tried to convince myself I was okay.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, only for them to pop back open when a memory struck me. Blue eyes. The feel of strong arms around me. He was there. This was the man who saved me from Shawn. He was there that night in the alley. That’s why his eyes were so familiar. He intervened and saved my life.
And now he was here.
“You were there.”
His eyes tightened as he stared at me.
“You need to go to the hospital.”
“You were there,” I continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “In the alley. What were you doing there?”
Ignoring me, he moved closer, his hands reaching out to skim over my body. It didn’t feel wrong. He was just checking me, making sure I was okay.
“Did you hit your head?”
“Were you following me?”
He prodded my head, searching for injuries.
“Who are you?”
He growled in frustration as he tried to coax me over to the couch. I was still shaking, still a jumble of thoughts that made no sense. I had no answers, and I desperately needed them. I had to make sense of what happened, but I had a feeling that would take time. But I could get answers from this man.
“Where are you hurt?”
He prodded my arms and I winced as my left shoulder spiked with pain. “There.”
I still didn’t know what happened. All I remembered was an explosion of some kind. I closed my eyes to replay what happened, which turned out to be a mistake. The moment I did, everything in me ceased to work. My hands started trembling, my knees buckled, and it was only by the grace of God—or this man—that I didn’t end up on the floor for the second time today.
“Sit down.”
I was vaguely aware of being moved, shuffled around the room by the will of someone else. Everything around me started to spin and my head ached. I pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to ease the pain throbbing inside. It was no longer just my head pounding, but every piece of my body pulsing in anger. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so good .
I cupped my hand over my mouth, but it was too late. Vomit surged up my throat, spewing from my mouth. I barely had time to bend over, and unfortunately, some of it landed on the man sitting in front of me. I sucked in a breath, heaving as the pressure built again in my chest. I felt a strong hand resting on my back and tried to focus on that instead of the growing panic inside.
I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to rein in my emotions. Everything was hitting me all at once. The panic, the fear, the desperate need to see my sister and make sure she was okay…I couldn’t stop it all from building inside me.
I vaguely heard someone talking to the man in front of me, but at his sharp bite, the other person backed down. I peeled my eyes open and stared at the man’s impeccable shoes. Black and shiny, they were the epitome of perfection, even in the disaster of my house. They didn’t seem to fit with anything surrounding me, yet they brought comfort.
They were just shoes.
I snorted as I stared at them, wondering how a pair of men’s shoes could bring me comfort. God, I really was losing it.