Red Moon Rising

29. trust

Chapter Song: Me and the Devil - Soap&Skin

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XX

When Isaac settles into the blankets behind me, I am wide awake, although I've pretended to be asleep since he walked through the door. Even if I didn't have to await his return, rest would have been difficult; the churning in my mind makes my skin crawl even as I lie motionless on my side of the bed. I can't burn away the image of his face when he held me down by my neck. It was such a cold look, barely even angry. It felt like he was trying to scare me. And it worked.

Also spinning in my head are my own words, which I just lost control over in that moment. God I was so fucking angry at him, and to be told to calm down...and still, there's a part of me that wonders if I overreacted. I didn't give him a chance to explain himself before I turned on him, and it ruined any chance I had at having a normal conversation with him. Isaac isn't Cam. He doesn't keep his cool in the face of anger; he forces that anger down with his own.

"Hey," Isaac whispers, and he presses up behind me beneath the blankets. I don't know why my eyes fill with tears when his arm wraps around me. It's fucked to want to be held by the very person who made me upset to begin with. "I know you're awake." He kisses my shoulder, and I'm thrown by the gentleness of his touch, the caring in his voice. "Are you going to talk to me?"

"No."

I'm surprised when he breathes a laugh. "Fine, I'll talk then. I'm sorry I grabbed you like that earlier."

"I'm listening."

"I don't...I'm not good with words, and I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." He's wrong, though—he's too good with his words at times. But I realize that he's never apologized to me, and I'm not sure that I've heard him use the words 'I'm sorry' with anyone else in this pack either.

"Isaac...I need access to a phone."

He presses his lips to my hair and sighs, and I can feel the tension in his arms. When he speaks, his voice has lost some of the softness. "I'm trying to apologize to you, and you're still fixating on the phone."

"I don't believe for a second that you don't understand why I'm angry about it."

"I told you, I'm not talking about it anymore."

"You don't get to decide that!"

Isaac groans and rolls back in bed, running a hand over his face. I can't stand to lie here anymore, can't stand the darkness or Isaac's proximity. Slipping from the covers, I fumble through the dark room until my hands meet the edge of his desk, where I left a glass of water. The dim yellow lamp by the bed flicks on as I take a sip, and Isaac swings his legs over the side of the bed.

"Come back, Layla." He holds out a hand, his face tired and serious and a little angry.

"Are you going to manhandle me if I don't?"

"Look, I said I was sorry. Are you going to let me make it up to you?"

"I don't know. I don't...am I really supposed to?"

"I'm not your Prince Charming, okay? I'm going to fuck up, more than most people. But I'm not going to leave you like he did."

"Don't bring him into this. Jesus, Isaac."

"Just come here—come talk to me."

I should make him come to me. I should make him grovel a little for it all—and even then I don't know how I'm supposed to forgive him when he refuses to admit he did anything wrong. But he's right, he isn't Cam, and I am out of my depth here. Isaac doesn't come to anyone, and he isn't going to grovel. He's still holding out a hand to me when I relent and set down the water. When I'm near him, he pulls me gently into his lap and wraps his arms around me.