Into the Light (University of Isles #2)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen

The thought of her visit to that salon, where one of the guys’ ladies had dared to meddle with her hair, ignited a slow-burning fury within me. I yearned to exact retribution on them for what they had subjected Ember to.

“I’m calling for an emergency meeting,” I asserted, my tone resolute. “You stay upstairs for now. We need to talk afterward.” Ember scrunched her nose and raised her eyebrows. I noticed a subtle transformation in her demeanor. There was a newfound gentleness, a vulnerability that tugged at my heartstrings. It made me ache to draw her close, to be the one she turned to in times of need.

I reached for the baseball cap she wore, probably borrowed from Santiago. While I appreciated his support, a twinge of envy gnawed at me. I longed to be the pillar of strength for Ember, the person she confided in first. However, deep down, I couldn’t help but feel I might never have that privilege.

I parked the bike in the driveway, and my gaze sought Ember’s. Her face lit up with a mixture of emotions, and I couldn’t help but be captivated by the delicate interplay of expressions on her features.

As she walked toward the front door, each step was a tantalizing, rhythmic pulse that echoed with the promise written in the stars. The gentle sway of her curves beneath the fabric of her dress ignited a fervent yearning within me, an ache that only she could soothe.

Then she stopped and turned around, her gaze locking onto mine with a magnetic pull that drew me closer. In that moment, she was the embodiment of all the light I needed after enduring the torment of unrelenting pain after his death. Her eyes, like twin galaxies of longing, held a promise of solace and redemption, a promise that everything I had endured was worth it just to be in her presence.

Ember stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, her form a silhouette of desire against the impending evening sky. She was not just a woman; she was a beacon of passion and hope, a vision of love and longing with the power to heal all wounds and ignite the most fervent of desires.

She was the embodiment of my person.

“What?” she asked, giving me a slight pull on the corners of her lips as they moved into a cross between a smirk and a smile.

“Nothing.” I chuffed. “Come on.” I gestured to her inside.

She tensed right away, but I offered her a comforting hand on the small of her back as I guided her through the house and upstairs.

“I think if it’s okay with you, I may take a nap?” she asked when we got to my small room. I handed her a couple blankets from underneath the bed storage.

“Here.” I gave it to her, and her hand lingered on the blanket while looking up at me.

“Rain?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said in a hushed tone.

“For what?”

“For being there for me. I didn’t see it until now, but thank you.” A soft smile played on Ember’s lips as she gracefully took the blanket from my hands. She moved and settled on my bed as if it were her rightful place all along, a vision sent to soothe my wounded soul.

I stood there for a moment, simply watching her as she curled up on my bed. The way she nestled in, the way her presence seemed to light up the room, it was as though she had always belonged here, beside me. I hesitated, caught in the enchantment of the moment, before finally tearing my gaze away from her. There was an emergency meeting downstairs, one I couldn’t delay any longer.

Something, some inexplicable force, tugged at me, urging me to make a brief detour before joining the others. My eyes were drawn to the small staircase, a ladderlike ascent leading upstairs. It had seen little use since the day Mr. Ortiz had cleared Ash’s belongings and clothing from there. I had avoided it, fearful of what memories it might hold. Yet, watching Ember so peaceful on my bed, stirred a longing within me. Without conscious thought, I climbed the ladder and opened the door.

My hand hovered over the doorknob, a sense of trepidation washing over me before I slowly turned it. I half expected to see Ash on the other side, to hear his infectious laughter, to feel his warm embrace. He would have welcomed me with that ever-present smile, the one that never wavered, no matter what lay beneath. I had questioned him, asked him countless times about his well-being, but he never let me in on the battles he fought.

“Damn it,” I whispered as I stood in that half-empty room, gazing out the windows at the encompassing forest of the Den. The gentle rain tapped against the windowpane, yet the room retained a sense of Ash, as though he lingered in its very essence. It felt foreign, out of place, and a lump formed in my throat.

“Why did you do this, Ash? What was your plan?” I cried out, the tears finally flowing freely. After months of being stuck in this seemingly emotionless state, they came like a waterfall.

“Am I supposed to love her freely now? You left behind two shattered souls, both of us blaming ourselves for your departure.”

I cried, my hands buried in my hair, each sob racking my body. A sudden clap of thunder accompanied by lightning felt like Ash’s spirit urging me to find my strength, just as he would have.

“I think I love her too, Ash, but is my love enough for her?” I walked over to his desk, my fingers tracing the remnants of his life scattered upon it.

“Why didn’t you share your pain with me? I would have helped,” I murmured to the silent room. Grief had given way to anger, a burning rage building within me. I was tired, exhausted by the masks I had to wear, and now I was left to heal yet another broken heart.

In a fit of fury, I seized a lamp from the desk and hurled it against the wall. The grief had transformed into a tempest of anger, threatening to consume me whole.

The door creaked open, and I swiftly drew the Glock from my waistband, a precaution I had taken before the meeting, anticipating the need for a show of force. Yet, all I heard was the light pattering of rain on the window behind me.

I swear to God, Ash, if this is your ghost—

“Rain?” Ember’s voice, tinged with concern, pierced the room. I couldn’t let her see me like this—broken and enraged. While kicking a few pieces of glass that had fallen to the floor behind the bed, she pushed the door in quickly.

“Get out of here,” I rasped, “por favor.” I needed to shield her from the wreckage of my emotions. This wasn’t who I was supposed to be. I was to uphold this protective shell around me so she could break down.

Ignoring my plea, she entered the room, her eyes widening as they swept over the half-empty space. I recognized the void reflected in her gaze, a reflection of my own. Yet, she didn’t dwell on the lifeless room. Her eyes met mine, and she rushed toward me, concern etched across her beautiful face. She grabbed the Glock in my hand and threw it on the bed before pulling me tight into an embrace.

“Rain,” she whispered, her fingers brushing away my tears. “Why? How?”

She blinked back her own tears and cupped my face, her warmth wiping away my sadness.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked, her voice filled with genuine concern and care.

“No,” I choked out, remaining true to my commitment to always speak the truth. Our gazes remained locked, and in that fleeting moment, even with her hair gathered in a simple bun, she exuded an enchanting grace that transcended the turmoil surrounding us.

“I need to protect you. You shouldn’t see me like this,” I demanded, trying to push her away, but she only placed her small delicate hands on my chest, gently tugging my shirt so I was closer to her.

“Oh Rain,” she whispered. “You don’t always have to be the strong one. You can break down and feel what you’re experiencing, too.”

“I don’t understand any of it, Ember, including my own damned emotions. And, most of all, I don’t comprehend what I’m supposed to do about you.”

Ember paused, withdrawing slightly, her eyes casting about the room in contemplative silence. A solemn expression painted her lips, and she turned her gaze from the window to meet mine once more. Then with a sigh, as if releasing all eight months of pent-up tension, she uttered words that carried a weight beyond measure.

“I think he wants us to keep living our life. We should honor him in that way .” Her breathing seemed to slow, as though finding a profound revelation. “We should share his story and then give him the peace that he was desperate to find.” Her eyes once again flitted around the room as she took his . . . aura in. The room was so empty, but at the same time felt so full of his spirit.

“I’ve been trapped for so many months, but I believe it’s time to uncover the truth and move forward, no matter what that entails.” She returned to my side, her eyes falling upon my fingers, which bore small nicks from the shattered lamp.

“I don’t have all the answers about ‘us’ either, but those emotions you’re grappling with?” Her gaze bore into mine as she nestled her forehead against my chest, her voice barely more than a murmur.

“I feel them, too.” My fingers found themselves tangled in the silk of her hair, and together, we stood in his room, two souls seeking solace amid the echoes of the past. Holding a silent promise that we knew that this moment, this quiet moment, would transform us.

“I need to get downstairs.” I coughed while she pulled away from me slightly, looking in my eyes for something.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Are you sure you don’t want me?”

I laughed. “No. Don’t get me wrong, pareja, I do, but this is something that I need to speak to the guys about first.” She nodded and then walked downstairs. I glanced back at the room once before turning back toward her.

“I need you to stay in my room no matter what you hear. You need to promise me.”

“Okay,” she murmured, and I grabbed her hand, lacing my fingers between hers.

Ultimately, she was right. We couldn’t forget or move on from my brother’s death, but we had to move forward because we were still here, breathing and living.

Promising myself I’d return when I was ready to face the daunting task of cleaning up the mess around me, I closed my eyes, reminiscing about the first time I met Ash at his dad’s house. It was a memory that felt bittersweet, given the circumstances.

“Hey, what are you doing in my room? Who are you?” A little boy with floppy curls, who was about as tall as me, stood before me. His room was way cleaner than my other room. There was already a small bed on one side, but there was nothing else except what was in my backpack.

“I guess I’m living here.” I shrugged. The little boy paused and looked at me all curious.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I’m seven,” I said.

“Me, too,” the kid said. “What’s your name?”

“Rain Fortin.” I put my hands in my pockets and looked around the room, wondering if any of my stuff would be here. I really wanted my books.

The boy, who was the same age as me, walked over to me handing me a red car. I grabbed it, thinking it was cool and not something I’d have at my other house.

When my mom told me to pack my stuff earlier today, she told me we were moving in with her boyfriend. A guy she’d only been dating a couple weeks, but that was common with Mom. She would always date someone and then break up with them, but we were actually moving this time, so it was serious.

Still, I didn’t wanna get too close to this kid because what if they broke up. It would suck to leave him.

“My name is Ash Ortiz. I think you’re going to be my brother now.” I smiled, but this felt . . . kinda weird. I’d never had a brother before or any siblings.

“Come on. Wanna play with my cars?” Cars were cool. From that moment on, I knew this guy would be my friend forever.

“What the fuck’s this about, Fortin?” one of the guys asked as Pico slid into the room. We were gathered around the dining room, and most of the guys were sitting while I stood towering over them. Pico stood behind me.

The night had fallen, casting the house into a shadowy realm illuminated only by a few dim lights. My feelings about being a leader and most of the people here were complicated, but strangely, I held a deep affection for this place. It was like a haunted mansion crossed with a horror film set, nestled right on the edge of the ominous forest. Typically, we kept the first floor tidy, especially since it welcomed most of the campus during the typical Saturday party.

As I scanned the room, I couldn’t help but realize how little I knew about most of these guys. Honestly, I had no interest in getting to know them. They came across as sheep, reeking of desperation as they tried to climb the ranks through the Cartel. However, it wasn’t my favor they sought; they were desperate to impress Mr. Ortiz, the head honcho. I just happened to be the direct link to him.

In frustration, I slammed my hands onto the dark wooden table, creating a thunderous noise that shattered the silence, making everyone turn their heads toward me.

“Who is fucking around with the hairstylist at the salon on Main, Tana?” I asked when the room quieted. There were a couple whispers of guys mumbling, but as I stared at each of them, no one confessed.

“I am not kidding.” I tried to muster the courage to be the leader I needed to be. All of them still sat quietly, some even crossed their arms. These fuckers were being defiant, none of them wanting to rat on each other.

I gave a quick glance back at Pico, who nodded inconspicuously at me before moving from the shadows and standing next to me.

“Shut the fuck up, assholes,” he bellowed as he grabbed his gun and slammed it on the table. That was the voice of a leader, someone in charge, who created order out of a room and had a presence that when he entered, you listened.

The exact opposite of who I was. This was not the person Ember saw.

“I will personally cut each and every one of your fingers off and render them useless until someone confesses who is fucking with Tana Hosthrop at the salon on Main Street.”

No one was talking loud, but there were whispers with people looking around to see who I would pick out. Pico grabbed the guy, Roger, next to us by the shirt collar, lifting his finger to the knife.

“No one wants to talk?” He laughed maniacally, which only affirmed his leadership role. “I’m going around ripping off fingers then until someone does.”

Silence.

“Tommy’s girl,” a guy in the back shouted, and everyone whipped around to a small little dude sitting at the front. Tommy glared at the guy who ratted him out while Pico stalked toward his chair. Bringing the knife to his neck, he seethed at him, his face practically on top of his.

“The fuck took you so long to listen to Fortin?” Pico asked, and I just sat there watching the scene unfold because that’s where I preferred to be, blended in the background.

“Stand up,” Pico demanded, and the guy shuddered, but stood, walking in front of the room.

I gave him a quick nod of gratitude for handling it for me. “Your girl fucked over Ember.”

Tommy furled his upper lip at me but otherwise didn’t show an ounce of emotion. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

I shook my head, letting the corners of my lips twist into a smirk. “Get the fuck outta here. You planned this shit with her?” The silence from Tommy was more telling than his voice. “She purposefully fucked up my girl’s—”

“Oh, so she’s yours now?” he asked.

“No.” Fuck.

“No. Ember’s fucking hair.” I grabbed my Glock from my waistband and pointed it to his head, not giving a fuck about anything else.

“What did you tell her?” I seethed, my voice laced with anger and suspicion.

“The truth,” Tommy replied.

“Which is?” I tilted my head in his direction, the cold metal of the gun pressed against his temple a stark reminder of the seriousness of the situation.

“Ember killed Ash. She either drove him to his death or her brother—”

“No.” My finger tensed on the trigger. “Shut the fuck up,” I demanded, my tone taking on the weight of authority. This was for Ember, and I would do anything to protect her.

“Is it not the truth?” Tommy asked, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his composure unyielding.

“No,” I stated, taking a moment to scan the room. “For the fucking record, if any one of you breathes a word about Ember to anyone on this campus or in this house, you are fucking dead and out of the fucking organization.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as my words settled in. They knew the consequences of leaving the Den—a Cartel leadership role would be forever out of reach. This place served as a training ground for the organization, and leaving meant abandoning any hope of advancement.

“Ember doesn’t deserve any of this shit, and I am determined to uncover the truth about what happened to Ash . . . with concrete evidence .” I made it clear how resolute I was about getting to the bottom of it. “I will do all of this before the spring bonfire. If, for whatever reason, it remains unresolved, then you all can continue to point fingers at their family and blame whoever makes it easiest for you to sleep at night.”

No one dared to talk, and I didn’t move my weapon from Tommy’s forehead. Pico gave me a quick nod of approval, and I knew I was on the right page with how I was treating this situation. I knew, as their leader, regardless of my feelings over being in this position, I could show no weakness. Allowing these fuckers to rag on Ember was the line for me.

“Do I fucking make myself clear?” I asked again, and everyone gave a resounding “Yes” before I stared at Tommy, who remained as still as a statue staring out into the dining room.

“You all loved Ash? Appreciated him as a leader, no?” A murmur of “Yesses” were heard throughout the room. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to touch her. You all know it. So if you are not doing it for me, then do it for him.”

“Tommy?” I asked. “Do you understand why telling Tana about Ember and having her fuck her hair up on purpose was wrong?” I seethed through gritted teeth.

He slowly moved his head in my direction, but I didn’t move my gun from its position.

“Yes, Boss. It is crystal clear what your position is on this . . . situation,” he snarled. Grabbing the gun, I tucked it into my waistband and, in one swift movement, retrieved the knife next to it.

I held his hand to the table and stabbed it right through the middle. Gasps reverberated around the room as Tommy screamed in pain.

“I don’t think I made myself clear. You are to stay the fuck away from her,” I gritted out. Then I glared at everyone else, whose eyes had gone wide and mouths had dropped to the floor. They needed to understand I was their leader and I needed to be respected. I was doing this for Ember and Ash. The two people who mattered most. My brother and his—mine—ugh, fuck, Ember.

I left the knife in his hand as I snapped at Pico to help me clean this up. Before we pulled it out and walked away, I looked back at Tommy.

“Call your girl. I need the products that will get her hair back to normal delivered to the house in the next ten minutes. If they aren’t, then I am doing this to your other hand, too.”

I headed into the kitchen, past the door to the basement, a.k.a torture chamber, and out the back.

I choked on the air in my lungs while staring at my hands covered in blood splatter and shaking profusely. I’d never acted like that before. Yeah, I’d been around a lot of fucking death, but always as the person watching, cleaning up, managing the cops, et cetera. I’d never actually been the one to deliver the blow, and even though I hated Tommy and Tana right now . . . I hated myself more.

I was turning into the one person I swore I’d never become because that person was ugly, horrible, disgusting. He was the devil in an Armani suit, and he also happened to be stepdaddy dearest. The one person no one was blaming for Ash’s death, yet they all should be because he was responsible.

“Hey, Ash?” I called out as I roamed through the house, but the silence was deafening. Normally, we would be home right after school, but I had gotten stuck at the math club, unlike him. Mr. Ortiz had strict rules keeping Ash away from after-school activities. Instead, he often had to shadow his father during business dealings. However, with Mr. Ortiz and my mom away on a trip since yesterday, Ash should have been home.

My phone displayed no texts from him, which only fueled my growing sense of unease. I couldn’t explain it, but something inside me screamed that something was amiss.

Climbing the stairs that led to our rooms, I reminisced about our newfound freedom as sophomores in high school. It meant we finally got our separate rooms in the west corridor of our mansion in the city. Although we had to share a bathroom, it was a welcome change. I could have my own space for books without enduring Ash’s early morning routine, which started at the ungodly hour of five.

Reaching the corner where our rooms connected, I noticed no signs of movement or sound. “Ash?” I tried again, but there was no response. I gently knocked on his door, pressing my ear against it in case he had company, a common occurrence when his father was away on business trips. Ash’s popularity at school, thanks to his striking appearance and charming demeanor, made him quite the ladies’ man.

With a growing sense of dread, I pushed Ash’s door open. What I saw on the floor shattered my heart into pieces. There lay Ash, surrounded by empty pill bottles, with tears streaming down his face. My breath caught in my throat as I rushed to his side. For the first time, my brother looked broken. I’d looked up to him the entire time we’d been brothers, but he didn’t look like the person I knew.

“Ash, what the hell is going on?” My voice trembled with fear and disbelief.

He looked up at me, his eyes red and swollen, and let out a choked sob. It was the first time I had ever seen my brother cry. It was a heart-wrenching sight that tore at my very soul.

“I . . . I didn’t take any,” he said between sobs. “But I wanted to. God, Rain, I wanted to.”

I sank down beside him, feeling helpless and overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation. The reality of the moment hit me like a ton of bricks. Ash, the person I had always seen as unbreakable, the one who presented a fa?ade of strength to the world, was hurting, and he was hurting badly.

For the first time, a chilling realization washed over me. I was scared for my brother. Terrified that the pressure, the expectations, and the suffocating grip of his father’s control had pushed him to the brink of despair. I had never seen him so vulnerable, so lost.

Tears welled in my eyes as I held him, to let him know he wasn’t alone. We were in this together, whatever “this” was. And no matter how daunting the journey ahead, I was determined to help my brother find his way back from the darkness that threatened to consume him.

I held Ash in my arms as he continued to cry, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. The room felt suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in on us. The bottles of pills strewn about served as a stark reminder of just how close we had come to losing him.

Holding him, I whispered soothing words, promising we would get through this together. I didn’t know how, but I couldn’t let my brother down. He had always been there for me, and now it was my turn to be his rock.

After what felt like an eternity, Ash’s sobs began to subside, then he pulled away slightly, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. His eyes met mine, and in that moment, I saw a raw vulnerability I had never seen before.

“Rain,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from crying, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep living like this.”

His words sent a chill down my spine. I knew he was talking about his father, about the suffocating control and the relentless pressure that had been crushing his spirit for years.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, my voice filled with determination. “We’ll find a way to get you out of here, away from him.”

Ash nodded, and a glimmer of hope shone in his eyes. It was a small spark, but it was enough to reignite my own determination. I needed to get us out of here. It was the one hard truth.

“When we get to Isles, everything will change, but I need you to hold on until then.” Ash looked up at me, his eyes locked with my own gaze.

Although we shared no blood, we’d spent every single day together dodging the responsibilities he had, and when he got in trouble, I’d help pick up the slack. Because of my position, or lack thereof, in the family, I knew I had to help him when he needed it because his dad would never suspect it was the two of us. We spent countless Saturday mornings remaking his bed over and over until it was to Mr. Ortiz’s satisfaction. At the end of the day, it was Ash who helped me. He kept me company—gave me a brother. Gave me a purpose in this life, and after today, I knew I needed to give him that back. I needed to protect him. I would not fail him.

“Earth to Rain,” a familiar voice said, and I blinked away the thoughts I was lost in.

“What’s up?” I asked Pico, turning my full attention toward him and away from the memories that had plagued me for the last eight months.

“You did good in there. I was fucking impressed.”

I chuckled before giving his shoulder a slap. “Thanks, man. Your help at the start doesn’t go unnoticed. You are far more fit for the leadership role than I ever will be.” I laughed.

“Nah. After the stunt you pulled today, I am fully impressed with you. Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“I heard your slip-up. Not to change subjects or anything.” Even in the night, only illuminated by the small porch light in the back of the house, I could see Pico twist his lips into a slight smile. I looked back at him, my mind still on Ember.

“It was nothing more than a slip-up. Exactly as you said.” I tried to cover my tracks because calling Ember mine felt so right, so natural, but she would never be mine . . . at least not fully. Not until we resolved what happened with Ash.

“Of all the people walking on this earth today, he’d want it to be you.” I swallowed hard at Pico’s confession. He would have wanted it to be me. I knew Ash. He put so much already in my hands, he’d want it to be me, but I couldn’t let it be. Because I still saw her as his.

“Growing up with the two of you was wild.” Pico chuckled and ran a hand through his hair before leaning against the back of the house and lighting a cigarette.

He handed me a pack, and I grabbed one from him and let him light it. I didn’t smoke until high school, and even now, I didn’t like smoking, but it kept my hands busy. I needed something to keep them busy because there was so much to process, not to mention the fact Ember was just upstairs sleeping in my room.

“Why?” I asked as I inhaled the tobacco.

“Because you two were like fucking twins, if I hadn’t known any better. Ash bossed you around, and you always followed him. But man, if he didn’t want to do something or you weren’t involved, he used to fuck people up.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, not knowing this.

“You didn’t know?” I shook my head, and Pico laughed before he took a deep pull of his smoke.

“Okay, you remember when we were in eighth grade, and we were invited to Trey Thompson’s house? It was like our first real party since his parents were going to be out of town?” I gave him a smirk, remembering my first real party invite.

“Well, he didn’t want to invite you. He called you a weirdo because you liked to sit in the back of class and at lunch with your book.” I narrowed my eyes at him, which only made him laugh. “Come on, you were kinda a loner.” I shrugged at his confession. “Anyway, Ash went over to his house and fucking beat the shit out of him until he personally came up to you at school and invited you.”

“Shut up,” I said, laughing.

“Nah, it’s totally true. He fucked him up good, too. Told him that he was going to get his dad to personally murder each one of his family members, too. He was a damn eighth grader and was acting like his fucking dad already.”

This made me feel sad because to everyone else, he was a born leader, but what no one saw except for me was that Mr. Ortiz groomed him to be this way. He literally broke him down and tried to remold him into this born leader.

“Damn, that’s impressive,” I responded, letting the cigarette dangle from the corner of my mouth. My hands twitched at my sides as the anxiety creeped into me.

“It’s all to say that you guys had a bond like I’d never seen. I definitely don’t feel the same about my sister.”

Both of us were now propped up at the back of the house, looking into the depths of the forest.

“I went up to his room,” I said, not directed at Pico but more so at the darkness that threatened to consume us.

“And?”

“I’m trying to figure out what happened to him that night, Pico. I just cannot believe that anyone else was out there, but that doesn’t explain the two tracks.” I purposefully left out the fact that I knew there was no mud on the rock with the second pair of boots. I trusted Pico, but I wanted to keep this between Ember and me, at least until we could get the whole picture.

“You’ll figure it out. If you need anything, too, I’m right here ready to help.” He paused, then turned his head toward me. “I know it doesn’t help much, but I am on your side, Rain. I’m right here.”

“Thanks man,” I responded, and then slowly dragged the smoke from the cigarette before looking back toward the trees.

“Is smoking at the edge of a forest really such a good idea? Won’t the trees, like, set on fire and suddenly we’ll have a forest fire?” A delicate voice melodically drifted our way from where the door stood, and Pico and I turned our heads in its direction.

“The ground’s wet, Ember. No one is starting a fire here, just two guys indulging in a bad habit,” Pico said before he pushed off the wall and gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“See you later. I’ll go check to make sure everyone’s cleaned up.” Pico winked at me before greeting Ember, then heading back into the house.

“I have something for you,” I said, and her eyes looked up at me with awe and mystery. She was beautiful, but that word felt too mundane to describe her. The moment she entered a room, my breath escaped, and it was as if she were the only one who could fill my lungs back up.

Ember Solis had stolen my heart the first night she walked into the Den.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice breathless. She was different from last year, in a way that made her even more captivating and enticing. Ember stood there in an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair still up in a messy bun. Her large brown eyes held a mixture of curiosity and concern as they locked onto mine. She was curvy, her figure captivating even in the oversized hoodie, and every glance at her left me utterly speechless.

“A surprise,” I said as I dragged the last bit of the cigarette smoke into my lungs.

“That’s a gross habit.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at me. Her tone, although serious, had a joyful lilt to it.

“I know.” I chuffed.

“So why do you do it?”

“I don’t often, just needed something to keep my hands busy after the meeting tonight.”

“It didn’t go well?” She took a few steps toward me and stopped in front of me, watching as I brought the cigarette back up to my mouth.

“It did, actually. I just hate being in front of a big crowd. Makes me anxious,” I confessed.

She grabbed the cigarette from my hand and tossed it to the ground, stomping on it extra hard. Then we looked up at each other at the same time.

She took another small half step toward me, then interlaced her fingers with mine before bringing both of our hands up to her cheek. The softness of her cheek against my hand sent a jolt through my body, but her eyes didn’t falter from mine.

“You can keep your hands busy with me anytime,” she whispered before taking that last small step toward me. As her hands left mine, I felt the need to keep the close physical connection we had, so I squeezed her hips. She caressed the stubble on my face.

We stayed there, our chests heaving in sync—up and down. Our gazes pulled deeper into each other as if trying to bring us closer even though our bodies were touching.

Playing with my chin, she ran her forefinger up and down from the bottom of my hair to the tip of my jaw. She was so fucking close, I could just drop down and taste her now, but it wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t . . .

I stopped her by looking up and saying, “I really wanna show you what I got you.”

She took a deep breath and sighed, her eyes locked onto mine, our fingers intertwined because I wanted to feel her touch to let her know how much I needed her.

We walked back into the house through the kitchen, away from the dining room and toward the main foyer of the expansive home. I picked up the bag at the bottom of the stairs before we headed upstairs.

“What was your meeting about? Did you figure out—”

“I told them that from here on out, you won’t be targeted for any more attacks like today,” I replied.

“You . . . you did?” Her voice held a hint of surprise.

“Yeah. You don’t need to be subjected to any of that shit again,” I said as I brought our hands up to my lips and pressed them gently against her fingers. We stood in the middle of the staircase, the intimate gesture giving me pause. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was a way of showing her how much I cared.

I pulled away and continued our ascent toward the bathroom. Ember didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. There was only one other person in this lifetime to whom I felt this connected, and he wasn’t here anymore. But Ember . . . She felt like she had always belonged.