Page 25 of Barinov

“What was that, Izzy?” his voice cuts clean through the air.

I shut up.

He steps into the room, emerald green eyes locking onto mine like nothing else exists.

Luca.

Jack.

I jerk upright in bed, knees pulling to my chest, scraping my forearm on my leg. A shriek tears out of me before I can stop it. I bite down hard and try to force it back.

“It’s ok, Izzy,” he says softly, inching closer to me. “I’m here to help you.”

My breath stutters as I notice the scar curling down his left forearm. The one he never talked about. Biting down and breathing doesn’t do shit this time to stop the tears from flowing.

“Shhh.” He reaches toward me and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “You’re safe now.”

“Why?” The question catches in my throat. “Jack, why are you doing this?”

His hand stills in my hair. “Now, Izzy,” he says gently. “You know that’s not my true name.”

A chill creeps its way up my spine.

“J-Jack? It’s me, Bella,” I whisper, my voice small despite all my effort to steady it. “I’m not…” My head shakes. “I’m not Izzy.”

Something tightens in his expression. “Yes you are,” he says, running his finger down my cheek. I try to pull away, but he grips my chin and tips my head back, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You just don’t remember yet.” He tilts his head and studies me. “You’re my Izzy, finally come back to me.”

He reaches for my arm and carefully begins wrapping it in a gauzy bandage. I wince slightly as the stinging heat flashes, but I force myself to breathe through the pain. His touch is precise and practiced. Too gentle for everything that he’s done.

“You did so well today,” he continues as if he’s praising a child. “You didn’t fight your brother. You took my flame just as you were meant to.” His mouth curves faintly. “Absolutely perfect.”

He leans in slowly and brushes his lips against my cheek. It feels wrong, invasive, and intimate in a way that makes me want to puke.

I pull back. “Please,” I whisper. “Let me go.”

The hurt in his eyes is immediate. A raw and startling disappointment like I’ve somehow failed him. Like I’ve broken some fragile, private fantasy he’s been nurturing for years.

“I can’t do that, Izzy” he says, shaking his head as he tightens the bandage around my arm. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.” His smile widens. “So we can be together again.”

“Together?”

He nods. “Me. You. And your brother.”

He finishes the wrap with meticulous precision, but he doesn’t move away. No. Instead, the creep just sits there, settling his hand on my knee. His fingers trace slow, absent-minded lines up and down my thigh.

“Hmm… hmm… hmm…

Hmm… hmm… hmm…” he hums.

“Please.” I swallow. “Don’t.”

“Hmm… hmm… hmm…

Hmm… hmm… hmm…”

Wait, I know this song. It’s the same one he used to hum to me when I was just a frightened little girl during thunderstorms.

“You don’t remember yet,” he murmurs, eyes roaming over my chest. “But you will soon. I’ll help you.” He leans in closer, his calloused fingers inching up my thigh. “I’ve waited so long for this day.”