“Yes, that’s exactly it,” he snapped in response. She dug her feet into the floor and refused to move another inch. She yanked her arm hard, and he saw her clench her teeth against the stinging pain where his grip remained. Isaac steeled himself against her discomfort and growled. No way in hell would he release her.
Ever.
She arched an ironic eyebrow at him at the noise, causing him to flush and growl once more before leaning close to her face, nose to nose, and snarling, “Unless you want to make a huge scene in the middle of the airport, one that’ll probably bring along a storm such as you’ve never seen, you’d better follow me. Now.”
As if on cue, a loud rumble of thunder boomed overhead. She followed him, no longer attempting to speak.
Thank God for small favors.
***
Sabrina glared out the window of her car. The scenery sped by way too fast, but the last thing she cared about right now was whether or not Isaac got a speeding ticket. As a matter of fact, she’d love to see it. Except she’d have to be near him longer. And she wanted to get away from him.
Now.
Really, his actions were ridiculous. If he wanted to be an ass**le, why did she have to be forced to put up with it? Couldn’t he just sulk off to some corner and pout like men always did? Or go chase a mongrel or something? After a couple attempts at getting him to tell her why he’d gotten so angry, she crossed her arms and vowed not to speak to him ever again.
Always the drama queen, aren’t we?
But what had Marie told him to make him so angry? He hadn’t seemed mad when he’d first showed up at the house this morning. If anything, he’d looked worried about her. But she couldn’t mistake the fact that he remained pissed him off. When he shut off the ignition, she noted with surprise that they were already home. She glanced at him, only to see him glaring out his window.
She cleared her throat in an attempt to get him to look her way, but only the tensing of his shoulders told her he heard her. So, he wanted to play, did he? Well, fine. But she didn’t need to sit here and suffer in silence. She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and slammed it behind her before leaning into the open window.
“I’m done playing these games. I’m not a child, and won’t be treated like one. Come talk to me when you grow up, okay? That is, if you ever do.”
She grabbed her keys out of his hand and stomped her way to the front door, not caring if she’d managed to piss him off even more. She went inside, locked the door, and gave it a kick for good measure. Her toe throbbed in protest, and she glowered at the offending door. For a brief moment, satisfaction at her fabulous exit made her smirk. Unfortunately, it didn’t make her anger and hurt go away.
Unable to contrive an easy way out of her predicament, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of wine and her second-favorite knife. Next time she talked to him, she’d demand her damn knife back, too. Damn it.
She stalked to the living room, placed both items on the table next to the couch, and sank into its soft cushions. She settled herself comfortably into its pillows, and began her wait.
But what she waited for, she had no idea.
***
Isaac watched her retreat, and gave a bemused shake of his head. He knew he acted like an ass, but he hadn’t wanted to have a discussion anywhere in public. Or while driving. And now that he’d gotten to her house, he had no bloody clue what to do.
Should he follow her inside and attempt to talk some sense into her, or would he be wasting his time? If she wanted Elijah so bad, what gave him the right to say no? They could run off into the moonlight together and live happily ever after in the land of the eternally damned, for all he cared. Until Enforcers hunted them down and killed them, anyway. His fist tightened involuntarily at the thought.
Hell no.
He just needed to show her how unsuitable Elijah was for her, no matter how much she thought she loved him.
Isaac loved her, and she could grow to love him, too. She’d forget all about Elijah, given time. And if not, well, he loved her enough for the both of them. It would have to be enough.
It had to be, damn it.
He exited the car and made his way up the walkway to the front door. He took a steadying breath and reached for the doorknob, only to have it refuse to budge. She’d locked him out?
Son of a bitch.
“Sabrina, let me in,” he growled.
A slight shuffling sound came through the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me. Open the door.”
“Who? I’m sorry, but I must make sure. You could be either Elijah, or Isaac. So, which is it?”
Which are you hoping for, my dear?
Teeth gritted, he snapped, “It’s Isaac. Let me in. Now.”
Dead silence met his ears, and he stared incredulously at the door as he wondered if she would actually refuse him entry. He measured the strength of the barrier, computing where it would be best to deliver the force of his impact to crash it open. Within seconds of breaking it down—he’d even backed up in preparation—she unlocked the door. As soon it swung open, he pushed his way inside. Not a chance in hell he would give her time to change her mind.
Sabrina studied Isaac’s angry face and promptly walked away from him. Judging by his scowl, he didn’t look any more agreeable than he had earlier. If he wanted to talk to her, he’d follow. She’d had enough of trying to explain what had happened last night. It was his turn.
He sat beside her. She turned to him and arched an eyebrow. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Were you planning on keeping me out? If so, I should warn you a simple door wouldn’t stop me if I didn’t want it to.” His chin jutted out in defiance, and his eyes glittered. “And the knife is useless, too.”
“Maybe so, but it would still be damn satisfying to make you bleed right now.” She toyed with it in her hands, spinning it in slow circles. Okay, maybe she didn’t want to actually stab him, did she? “I didn’t know you were going to be coming in, first of all. You haven’t been in a talkative mood today. Second of all, you once yelled at me for opening the door before I made sure it was you. So I was being careful. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? And last but not least, I want my damn knife back.”
He flushed and refused to meet her eyes.
Score one: Sabrina.
“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I seem to be capable of doing nothing but yelling at you today.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “And the knife is at my place. I’ll get it to you as soon as possible.”