The First Rule | ✓

chapter thirty - seven

        "I KNOW IT'S SUDDEN," NATE explains to Isla. "But I don't think Leslie could hold on to it any longer. Something had to be done."

The sunlight tries to creep past the gap between her curtains. It leaves yellow streaks on Nate's ashen skin and makes his eyes glow. Isla hadn't slept quite well - maybe only for a few hours - she had wanted to wait up for Leslie and Nate to come home. Only, when Nate arrived, he was alone. Much to Isla's dismay, of course.

But she was also relieved. There was no knowing what she might have said to Leslie according to her sour attitude. She called the cops. She got Felix arrested. She stole Isla's moment.

She's still furious, of course, she's just hiding it well. Before she was in a shock, going over what happened, but now that it dawned on her that Felix is in fact behind bars - she's livid. He's unreachable. Safe. He deserves worse and Isla was going to give him that until Leslie decided to screw all of it up.

She. Ruined. Everything.

Now he'll truly be everywhere. On the news, in the papers, Instagram and Twitter, alive and well behind bars - breaking Isla down with each breath he takes. The thought makes her bite the inside of her cheek so hard she swallows the metallic taste of blood.

Unclenching her teeth, Isla nods to pretend she understands. "I understand," she replies.

A small part of her wished Leslie was here instead of Nate, maybe then she wouldn't be so full of hate towards her. Maybe if Leslie showed her face, she'd break. Maybe if Leslie was explaining it to Isla herself, she'd understand. Isla knows she should be proud of her bravery for stepping forward - but if she had only let her know beforehand, maybe Isla wouldn't go to Lava's with a gun.

Maybe the sight of Felix smiling at her in her position in the cab wouldn't be flashing before her eyes. Maybe she wouldn't be so hard on herself for not killing him sooner.

Nate gives her a tight smile. "Are you okay?"

For once, she doesn't lie. "No."

"Is it okay if I hug you?" Nate hesitantly asks, his body shifting slightly closer to Isla on the bed. She inches farther away, knowing full well that if he will show the slightest bit of affection toward her, she'll collapse.

"No," Isla decides.

Nate doesn't look offended. Instead, he smiles just a little wider, caresses the side of her face a little, telling her, "I'm gonna go climb into bed. If you'll need me, just knock."

Isla flinches slightly from his touch but tries to welcome it. He wouldn't hurt her. He's her brother. He notices it, too, dropping his hand, blinking as if there is something in his eye, before standing and exiting her room. Isla runs a hand through her hair. The ends are starting to reach the tips of her shoulders.

The room is dimmed and dusty and a mess - as is she. She tries to think of something else but fails. With a loud sigh and closed eyes, Isla sinks back into the comfort of her bed. Reopening them, and turning her head to the side, Isla stills upon noticing that a voice recorder is seated right by her pillow.