I let my eyes meet his, incredulous and exhausted, "Of course she is."
"You're doing the right thing for her by not telling her where you are. She's an innocent so I wouldn't harm her, but you and I both know she'd drag those two love-struck idiots into-"
"Yes," the S comes out almost a hiss as I hold up a palm. "I fully understand the consequences should I tell her what's happening. You need new threats, they are all falling flat now that I'm being the perfect captive."
He stares at me strangely, watching as I continue my trek. Each step is exhausting, like just being here drains the life from me.
"Do you... wanna come sit?" his unsure voice reaches me again.
"No," the single syllable has no bite, no malice, just a plain statement that I would rather rot silently by myself than sit and watch hockey.
"Oh, come on," he tries again. "These teams are notorious rivals. There's like 100:1 odds that a nasty fight breaks out."
I don't bother responding; he knows the answer. Instead, I walk out of the kitchen with the dinner and tequila hegraciouslyallowed me to access again—as long as I'm eating— heading straight for my room without a second glance.
Settling in before my computer again, quarter in hand this time, I twirl the thing back and forth, looking at all the small details.
I whisper to myself, "Heads, Mike. Tails, mom."
With a swig of my drink to give me the courage, I flip the small coin into the air, holding my palm out and waiting for it. But the damned thing never falls.Where the fuck did it go?I start combing through all my papers, searching under the plate, even getting on my hands and knees under my desk to search for it.
"Tails."
With a jolt, I try to stand, only for my head to collide with the desk on my way up. Eamon stands at my doorway, watching me with mirth in his eyes as I rub the back of my head where it hit the corner. He examines the coin like I did a few moments ago, waiting for something. An explanation, perhaps.
"That's mine," I finally say, not sure what else Icouldsay.
"Well, it's not worth much out here," his brow raises, "Are you going to tell me what you're playing heads and tails for?"
"Probably not."
"Let me rephrase," he smirks, but his expression is completely hollow, as flat as I currently feel. "Please tell me what you're playing heads and tails for."
"I got two emails and can't decide which to open first," I shrug. "Sorry it isn't something more titillating."
With three large steps, he stands between me and my bed, sitting on it and watching me carefully.
"And the contents of these emails?"
I shrug again, "Well I haven't opened them yet, so how could I possibly know?"
"Isla," my name escapes him, his tone a sigh of exasperation. "What's going to be in these emails? Are they something I need to be concerned about?"
I'm tempted to immediately write his worry off and say no. While I don't think he's going to give a flying fuck what my parents have to say or that Charlie and Mike are having a baby shower, there's no telling what he will or won't decide is his business.
"Mike and Charlie are having a baby shower," I tell him, clearing my throat immediately after to stave off the emotion building there.
He purses his lips and nods, understanding. "And the other?"
"My mom has somehow found my email address again."
An ember of fury lifts his lips in a sneer, "That's the one I'm interested in, if we're being honest. That's what you were talking to Bel about. Is that how her emails really sound? Or are they more threatening than you're willing to share with your friend?"
I spin in my chair to face away from him, watching his reflection on the screen of my darkened computer, unwilling to bring the screen back to life. "It's not nice to eavesdrop."
"I can't trust you, Isla. You have to know that by now," his voice is pleading and sincere, and it makes me sick to my stomach, so I take another long drag from the large bottle before me. "Your family is my number one concern. If they're reaching out, you need to tell me."
"And I am."
