Red Moon Rising

47. guests

The warm water helps to ease some of the swelling, and it helps to reset some part of my nervous system which is still teetering on the edge of a breakdown. When I dress, I find a collared shirt that hides some of the bruises on my neck, but there's no way to fully disguise what happened. And here is Jesse Rivers' daughter.

I'm still buttoning the top of my shirt when the bedroom door swings open with a force that makes my stomach drop. Isaac's glare has a presence to it, and I take a step back when he walks toward me.

"What is it?" I reach for him when he's near enough, to have some leverage between us if he lunges for me.

"How do you know him?" For now, he stays at arm's length, letting me twist my fingers into the front of his shirt. His fingers circle my wrists, squeezing gently, but with a warning I don't miss.

"My match," I manage. Lying to him won't get me anywhere, particularly when he already thinks I'm regularly deceiving him. "We were matched together."

"You didn't tell me you were matched to Jackson Courtland."

"I didn't know it mattered. He doesn't mean anything to me."

"Well you mean something to him. He wants to talk to you."

"What?" I feel sick, like a joke is playing out at my expense. What could he possibly want to say? What if he wants to take me back with him? To get me out of here? It's stupid, so fucking stupid, to be this sick with shame at the thought of accepting help from him.

"He won't leave until he's aired his grievances with me, and he won't do that unless you're there too."

"Why?"

"You tell me!" His fingers pinch a little tighter into my skin. "Layla if you brought him here somehow..."

"I didn't, you know I didn't."

He pulls me closer, eyes scanning every part of my face. "You better be telling the truth."

"I didn't do anything, I swear. If I could have called anyone I would have called my family."

Isaac seems to accept this, letting his hands slip up my wrists to my elbows. He leans into me and kisses my bruised cheek and forehead before dropping his lips to my neck. "I'm sorry," he breathes into me. "I'll make it up to you, Layla."

"I'm okay," I manage in return. I barely suppress the shiver up my back as his lips linger against my skin. When he pulls away, he traces his fingers along my jaw before offering a strange, soft smile.

"Ready?"

As I follow him into the hall, I lean into the arm around me. So maybe Jackson will see me tucking myself close to this man; it's Isaac that I will have to face later, and I can feel the tension in his arms when my fated match comes into view.

"How do you know him?"

"Paul."

The name forces me into silence. What does Jackson have to do with Paul? Does every damn wolf have a deal with him except for me? And what the hell does he want? Trappers and alphas. Whatever he's up to, he needs force.

I sit next to Isaac on the cafeteria bench with Jackson across from us. At a word, the rest of the wolves leave the room to wait in the hall or in the winter air beyond the front door. How strange for him to turn up now, to be sitting across from me just after Isaac nearly raped me. It's hard to look him in the eye. It feels like he knows too much.

"There," Isaac says slowly. "You wanted to see her, she's here. Now are you going to tell me why you're trespassing?"

But Jackson doesn't reply, instead turning his gaze to me. "There are a lot of people looking for you, Layla."