Dark Captor (Dark Syndicate 2)

I watch them and they don’t look like the friends I’m used to, and not when he slips his arm around her, bringing her closer as they walk away.

I watch them until I can’t see them anymore. They look like a couple and I wish that my brother could see what’s always been in front of him.

The tension leaves my shoulders and I stand, deciding to go and see Isabella. I might be the last person she’ll want to see but it’s right that I check on her.

Sitting here for much longer will just make me a pussy licking his wounds.

I left Isabella’s door unlocked. I’m not sure if she realized that. I didn’t even think when I left earlier.

The lights are out and she’s lying on her side like she’s asleep, but I’m not convinced she is.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to leave.

It’s understandable she probably doesn’t want to speak to me. I can’t expect her to after everything that’s happened.

My worry is what to do now.

I sit in the armchair at the far corner of the room and shrug out of my shirt. It’s too hot to be wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt anyway.

I grab one of the unused napkins from the table beside me and make an origami rose out of it while I watch her. I make it and set it down on the table then I rest my head back against the chair and drift off to sleep.

I fall into deep slumber, but I’m always alert. I never drift off deep enough that I’m not aware of my surroundings or what’s going on in front of me. That’s why I stir when I sense someone watching me.

I open my eyes and see her.

Isabella.

She’s standing in front of me looking so beautiful I wonder if I’m still asleep and she’s a dream.

In the bright morning sunlight, the rays light up her hair like a halo and the baggy t-shirt she wears swamps her tiny frame.

She stares at me with those bright eyes and a slight flush in her cheeks. A flush that deepens when I straighten, and she looks over the bare tattooed skin of my chest. When she brings her hands together it snaps me out of the trance, and I reach for my t-shirt.

“You slept in here last night,” she says.

“Yeah. I just… I must have drifted off.” That’s not what’s she’s asking me, though. The question is why I’m in here, but I dodge it and shrug into my shirt.

“The door’s not locked,” she says.

“Doll, you know the doors not locked and you’re telling me?” It’s an attempt at being lighthearted. But there’s nothing lighthearted about us, although the trace of a smile touches her beautiful face.

She looks at the origami flower on the table and reaches for it. Lightly she runs her fingers over the petals then looks at me.

“Is it hard to make?”

“No. Not when you have a few tries. It just comes naturally, and you find yourself doing it with your eyes closed,” I explain.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She leans forward to put the flower back, but I stop her.

“Keep it. I can make more.”

“Thanks.” She gazes back at me and I run a hand through my hair.

I don’t know what the hell we’re supposed to do now.