Deceiving Her Ears: Ignoring Your Call-Chapter 4: Should We Continue?

"I’m in bed."

Isaac Vaughn answered, ignored Scott Quinn’s cursing, and decisively hung up.

Freeing up his hand, he was just about to continue when—

"Riiing!"

That damn interrupting ringtone was back.

This time, it was Natalie’s phone.

Scott Quinn was calling again.

Isaac wasn’t going to answer, but the other guy had that crazy energy—like if you didn’t pick up, he’d blow up your phone.

He reached for her phone, about to turn it off, when a pale, slender hand crossed over and answered it first.

Isaac raised his brows.

"Where are you?!"

Natalie Kendall and Isaac Vaughn were pressed close together; Scott’s murderously manic voice echoed between them, clear as day.

"In Isaac Vaughn’s bed."

Natalie answered, just as crisp as Isaac earlier, and hung up.

Isaac laughed, clearly entertained.

Interesting.

This second time sleeping with her was way more fun than the first.

He grabbed Natalie’s jaw, rubbing her soft skin, and asked, "Want to keep going?"

Still the gentleman, all considerate: "Up to you."

By now Natalie was sobering up as the meds wore off.

Remembering how she’d clung to Isaac unconsciously, her face flushed so red it spread to the tips of her ears.

Forcing herself to act cool, she shoved him away, got out of bed, and headed for the bathroom.

She was sweaty and sticky all over—needed a shower.

Isaac watched her back—

His eyes suddenly darkened.

Inside the bathroom.

Natalie just turned on the water when she heard the door open behind her.

She spun around, surprised.

Everything blurred—he had her pinned against the wall.

Her back was on the cold white tiles, his burning-hot chest pressed up front.

Ice and fire, meshed together.

Her head started to spin again.

Isaac leaned in, mouth brushing her earlobe, his voice deep, rough, and sexy as sin, whispering right in her ear:

"I changed my mind. Not listening to you anymore."

"You—"

All her rage about his broken promises got swallowed up inside.

...

The next morning.

When Isaac woke, she was already gone.

He sat up, scratched his hair, and heard pounding at the door.

He threw on some pants, bare-chested, and went to open up.

Franklin Finch was on the other side.

Isaac opened the door and cursed: "Bang bang bang! Bang your damn mother bang!"

Franklin giggled, threw him a thumbs-up: "Isaac, you badass! Seriously, you’re the only one I bow to!"

One hand on the doorframe, the other pinching his brow, Isaac grunted, "What do you mean?"

"You don’t know? It’s a shitstorm outside! Everyone knows you slept with Quinn’s girl. He spent all night looking all over Seaharbor for his cheating ex! Lucky for you, slippery bastard, and with me—your loyal, tight-lipped brother keeping my mouth shut!"

Franklin strutted in as he bragged, "Scott kept grilling me about where you live, but I kept my lips sealed. That’s the only reason you—shit!"

He gaped at the mess around the bed—tissues everywhere, enough for a whole soccer team!

Franklin’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, cursing Isaac for being a total animal.

Isaac kicked him in the ass.

Franklin tumbled onto the bed, propped up and said, "Seriously, Scott’s losing his mind. He can’t find you, so he’ll probably go block that school beauty. Man, you really wrecked that beauty queen."

Isaac paused his walk to the bathroom, squinting, turned back and asked, "Which school is Natalie Kendall at?"

"Natalie who? Who’s that?"

"The beauty queen!" Isaac pressed his temples, his irritation spiking, "Which school is she the beauty of?"

...

Seaharbor University, underneath the Foreign Languages building.

After that wild night, Natalie could barely walk. She dozed in the cab back and just now started to feel human again.

She hadn’t made it inside the building when a hand reached from behind and yanked her back down the steps.

"You played me, didn’t you?! Faking all high and mighty for half a year—I actually bought your pure act! Thought you were squeaky clean, huh? And now you’re screwing around with Isaac Vaughn!"

Scott grabbed Natalie by the collar and she struggled.

They fought over it, and the collar ripped wide open.

Exposing red-brown marks on her neck and collarbone, proof of last night’s chaos.

Scott’s eyes blazed, veins popping, nearly nose-to-nose, hand poised to slap her.

"Sl—"

But just then, Natalie’s phone rang.

Her special ringtone for the hospital.

Scott’s slap never landed.

Natalie blocked his hand, every inch bristling, her eyes gone cold, shadowy, sharp—the look of someone transformed.

Scott froze.

She was already clutching her phone, sprinting for the campus gate.

Shaking himself, Scott cursed low and sprinted after her.

No way he’d let that little bitch off easy!

Natalie was feeling awful already, and barely out the gate, her legs gave out—she collapsed forward right onto the hood of a blue Bugatti Veyron.

The car door opened. Isaac stepped out, bracing on the door, teasing, "What, you trying to cash in on a crash?"

But one look at her face, and his expression went rigid.

He strode over, grabbed her arm, voice tight and cold: "What happened?"

"Take me to the hospital!" Natalie gripped Isaac’s arm tight, like a lifeline.

Isaac didn’t ask a thing, just yanked her into the car.

Just as he started the engine, Scott chased out.

Seeing Natalie get in Isaac’s car, his eyes nearly popped out. He jumped in front of them, blocking the way.

In the driver’s seat, Isaac smirked with wicked charm, revving the engine in warning.

Scott didn’t believe he’d dare ram him and stood his ground.

Isaac sneered.

Reverse, and a perfect drift.

The next second, the car shot out like an arrow.

Every move slick and fast, no wasted motion.

Scott got a faceful of exhaust, watching Isaac drive off with Natalie, stuck with nothing but his impotent rage.

...

But by the time Natalie reached the hospital, she was still a step too late.

The doctor offered some comforting words, but Natalie clearly didn’t hear a thing, lost in a daze.

The doctor left, and she slumped back against the wall, sliding slowly down.

"Miss, how about some tangyuan today? Your favorite, osmanthus filling."

"Miss, happy birthday. I knitted this scarf for you, hope you don’t mind."

"Miss, I’ll stay with you, always."

Granny Peterson was dead.

She’d never hear any of that again.

Natalie curled up into a ball.

Who knows how long passed, the quiet hallway suddenly filled with footsteps.

With the steps getting closer, the smell of disinfectant blended with a faint, clear, cold scent.

Her body felt light.

Someone picked her up.

...

Fever of 39°C.

Isaac hadn’t expected he’d wear her out like that. Probably all that drama in the bathroom late at night.

Gave her a fever shot and got her an IV drip.

Natalie woke up three hours later.

Isaac walked in with a black outfit, saw her awake, and tossed the clothes on her bed.

Natalie’s mind was still foggy, moving slow, like a jammed-up machine.

Heard his impatient tone through the haze: "Want me to help you change?"