Red Moon Rising

45. fate

"You hurt me."

"I love you. I care about you like I've never cared about anyone else, and you'd still want to run back to some guy who doesn't give a damn about you."

"I never said that."

"Then what is it that you want out of life?"

"I just—" My words end in a groan and I press my palms against my eyes as another stabbing pain makes me curl in on myself. "I don't know, Isaac. I don't know. I don't want to be afraid anymore."

"Then let me keep you safe."

"Maybe you're what I'm afraid of."

He pauses to search my face before a thin smile flickers on his lips. "Did you ever stop to think that's your own damn fault, Layla?"

"You killed Sam," I whisper, and Isaac grows very still. "You killed Sam, and you...you raped me—"

"I didn't fucking—"

"How can you say that? How can you—"

"Let me finish! Sam knew exactly what would happen if he tried to leave. We are strict here out of necessity—"

"Stop moralizing everything you do! Christ Isaac, I know you're not that stupid. Do you think I am?"

"Who's moralizing? I am telling you the way things are here, and you try to fit them to some moral framework from fucking Rust Cove."

The momentary bit of energy leaves my body, and I sink back into the bathwater and close my eyes.

"I can't forgive you for what you did to him."

"I'm not asking you to."

"Then what do you expect from me?"

"I'm expecting you to move on. Life goes on, Layla, and if you want to live in the past it'll only drag you behind it."

Only Isaac could tell me to move on two days after he murdered my friend. But as much as I hate the words, I understand the truth in them too. Living in the hatred won't get me anywhere here. It won't help me survive this.

"So what's it going to be? Are you going to fight me every moment of the day, or are you going to move on?"

"I don't know."

"Well you better fucking figure it out."

I close my eyes again and turn my head against the bathtub wall to relieve some of the pressure on my skull. I want to crawl out of my own body, to escape the ache and the hurt that comes from all around.

"Here."

When I turn to look, Isaac is holding a glass of water out to me, which I cautiously accept. I use the grip bar to pull myself into a sitting position, draining the water and handing the empty glass back to Isaac's waiting hand.

He's quiet while I finish washing my hair and body. It's taken this long to fully drive the chill from my bones, and I am afraid of what comes next after leaving the cooling bath. I don't have it in me to defy him or deceive him—we both know exactly what the other person is capable of now.

"I don't want to hurt you." Isaac doesn't look at me when I glance his way, staring instead at the floor ahead of him. "That night, I lost control."

"You lose control too easily." And it wasn't just that night.

"I know."

I don't expect the confession, or the earnest look on his face when he finally meets my gaze. "You do?"