Red Moon Rising

54. echoes

"We're talking now, aren't we?"

"I want to explain everything to you, but not over the phone. I just want to see you, Layla, I want to know that you're okay. I want—"

"But I don't want that, Isaac."

I picture the tightness in his jaw as he tries to reign in his anger. If I were there with him, this would be going differently. "There are things you need to know. I want to explain to you why I did what I did."

"I don't want an explanation."

"Just give me a chance to talk to you, that's all I'm asking. You can bring Courtland and as many wolves as you want. I just want to talk."

Why would he agree to something like that? He has to know that the council found bodies in his yard. He has to know what would happen if he got caught. "Tell me about Paul and I'll consider it."

Isaac goes deadly quiet, and it strikes me that perhaps Paul is there with him now; perhaps our call has an audience greater than just Jack. "What do you want to know?"

"Who is he?"

"Honestly, Layla, I don't really know."

"Are you working for him?"

"Not anymore."

"Did he tell you what he wants with me?"

Silence, again. I look up to where Jack is watching me carefully, evidently swayed by how easily Isaac is willing to talk now. "He wants to break the curse."

"What curse?"

"Every curse, the curse we get for disobeying the gods." I can hear the change in his breath when he walks, and for a brief moment I miss the familiarity of his voice. Not the hurt, or the violence, or the terror that he's come to embody, but something before that. I miss the moments where it felt like I could love him. I hate him for ruining me. "You've got to come back, Layla. I need you. I can protect you; Courtland is going to sell you out."

Jack did offer to have my dad here in two hours. Would he really do that? Or does he understand that I can't bear to face my family after what's happened? Maybe if I did ask it would be Paul who shows up, not my dad.

"Is Paul—is he why you wouldn't let me leave?"

"Yes," Isaac grits outs. "But Layla—"

"And why did he want you to keep me? Why not just come for me himself?"

"I don't know." I can hear the lie in his voice.

"Is he why you...did what you did to me?"

For a moment I only hear Isaac's breath, and then, "No."

From the middle of the room, Jack is still staring at me. He runs a hand over his face and settles into a couch against the adjacent wall. We're in an office, I realize, his office. There are papers scattered around the desk in front of me, and I let my eyes slide over them, not really reading anything on the page.

"I care about you, Layla. I want to do this again and do it right, I want to protect you like I couldn't before."

"You'll protect me, will you," I breathe. I wish the anger would fan itself like it does with anyone else. My temper has always been reliable, a constant; but with Isaac I can't summon any biting words. In my mind at least, I'd wanted to tell him how he hurt me, how wholly I hate him. But it takes all of me to just keep him talking. "You told Jack you wanted to make a deal for me. What did you offer him?"

A pause, again. Isaac has never been one to think before he speaks. And then I hear it, a strange shifting of clothing that I don't think is Isaac's. I think someone is there with him; I think he's measuring his words. "Money," he says. "Secrecy."