Glisser ironside academy.., p.34
Glisser (Ironside Academy Book 5), page 34
“Hey, Lily,” Isobel whispered.
Lily’s dark eyes were blinking at her sleepily. “Is it really you?”
Isobel very carefully extracted herself from Oscar’s lap when Lily winced, doubling over and letting out a small moan. “Gonna t-throw up.”
There was a plastic sick bag at the end of her bed and Isobel quickly grabbed it, passing it into Lily’s hands. She watched helplessly as the little girl heaved quietly. Though apparently, there was nothing in her stomach to throw up. She sat on the bed beside the little Sigma, her hands gently and very softly rubbing Lily’s back as she opened her walls and welcomed in Lily’s pain and nausea until she was seconds away from reaching for the sick bag herself. She cut off the flow, sagging back against the bed. Lily was staring at her wide-eyed.
“I barely felt you,” she breathed out, wonder in her eyes.
“I’ll teach you how to do it when you’re better,” Isobel promised, closing her eyes to ward off the dizziness. “Until you can control it, you shouldn’t let anything in, okay?”
Lily bobbed her head, some of the colour returning to her cheeks. “Oskie said I’m not allowed,” she agreed, placing her little hand on Isobel’s forehead. “Other people’s problems are theirs, not mine.” She arranged a fierce expression onto her face, and Isobel realised she had been mimicking her brother. “Are you sick too? You’re so pale.”
Isobel scoffed weakly, her eyes fluttering closed again. “That’s just how I look. And Oskie is right. Other people’s problems aren’t yours. You keep yourself locked up tight, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be right back.” Isobel forced her eyes back open and slid from the bed, pausing for a moment to brace herself as the dizziness threatened to send her spiralling to the floor. She sucked in a soft breath, forcing herself to stand upright as she walked into the front office.
“Excuse me?” She gently tapped the shoulder of the woman still sleeping at the front desk.
“Huh?” The woman jolted upright, knocking over a steaming cup of coffee by her elbow—so not still asleep, then.
“Shit, sorry.” Isobel quickly swept it up, but half of the coffee had still spilt out.
The woman swore, darting over to a table with a coffee station set up and grabbing a handful of napkins. “Sorry,” she sighed out. “It’s been a long few nights. How can I help you?”
“Do you have anyone here to help you run this place?” Isobel asked, frowning, as she bent to help the woman mop up the spilt liquid from the floor.
The woman laughed like Isobel had told a joke and then straightened, and Isobel could tell there was a smartass remark on the tip of her tongue, but it died, the woman’s eyes widening on her.
“It’s C-Carter,” she stuttered out. “Isobel Carter is here.”
Isobel winced. “Nice to meet you …”
“Annabeth,” she quickly supplied, thrusting out her sticky hand. “You must be here for Lily.”
Isobel nodded, shaking her hand, before following her lead and dumping all the napkins into a bin beside her desk. Annabeth slumped back into her chair, regathering her bun before motioning weakly to the coffee station. “Help yourself. You look like you’ve had a hard night. I did see a girl curled up on Sato’s lap earlier but didn’t realise it was you. I feel stupid now. Of course it was you.” At Isobel’s horrified expression, she rambled further. “Sorry, I’m overtired.”
Isobel quickly poured two more coffees and handed one of them over. “Are you a doctor?”
“I’m the best they’ve got,” Annabeth admitted, sipping the coffee gratefully. “I don’t have a degree, but I went to Ironside. Knew I wasn’t going to win, and they never pay attention to Omegas there anyway, so I used my time to study medicine. They have some professors who will help you get trades under the table without the officials finding out.”
“Wow.” Isobel popped her eyebrows up. “I had no idea.”
Annabeth smirked. “Chill, girl. You don’t have to pretend. West and Easton clearly bent every rule in the book to get them to change the rules of the game for you lot.”
When Isobel only stared at her plastic coffee cup, Annabeth graciously changed the subject. “I’m sorry about Lily. She’s a sweet girl.”
“Are you sure about the bone marrow transplant?” Isobel asked.
Annabeth nodded, her exhaustion showing once again. “Lily was in remission when I took over here, but she relapsed before Sato got into Ironside. It was some timing, I’m telling you—there was no way they would have been able to afford her treatments and medications without his Ironside stipend. Anyway, now that she’s relapsed, she doesn’t seem to be responding to her treatment anymore. She needs an allogeneic transplant, and there’s no way we can do anything like that here. She needs a damn good hospital and an even better surgeon.”
Isobel set the coffee aside. Her stomach was churning too violently to drink it. She sighed, resting her eyes for a moment. Poor Lily, having to live with this awful feeling constantly.
“Thank you for helping her. I wouldn’t give up hope, yet. Miracles can happen.” She blinked her eyes open, trying to focus on the other woman’s face. “Do you have any food for her? Some water?”
“Is she asking for food?” Annabeth looked shocked and quickly jumped up. She returned, pushing a packaged sandwich and water bottle into Isobel’s hands. “Take these into her. I’ve gotta finish up my notes from last night before I forget, and I’ll be right in there to check up on her.”
Lily was sitting up in bed, eyes bright, tapping away on her tablet. Isobel took the sandwich out of the plastic wrapping and handed it to her.
“Eat and drink while you’re feeling better,” Isobel urged, sitting beside her on the bed again.
Lily nodded, keeping quiet so as not to wake up Oscar, taking small bites of her sandwich. Isobel glanced at the screen as she tapped away. She was posting on social media.
Carter is here now. I feel better. She’s so pretty. I wish she was my sister. Her clothes are so cool and she has the longest hair …
Lily paused to try and stare at the trail of Isobel’s braid out of the side of her eyes.
She went back to typing. I’m going to grow my hair long too. Once I’m better.
Isobel moved her attention to the beanie sitting lopsided around Lily’s ears. It had shifted as she slept and now showed a hint of her closely cropped hair. Isobel surreptitiously flicked away a tear with her thumb as she went back to reading over Lily’s shoulder, except Lily had already published her update and was now scrolling through what appeared to be her locked, private profile. Every post was liked by a single person.
Oscar Sato.
She tugged the neckline of her crop top up to dry the tears that kept threatening to spill down her cheeks, and then she just gave up and closed her eyes.
She wasn’t sure when she drifted off, but she woke up in Oscar’s arms again, her father’s booming laugh jolting her awake.
“Of course, it’s always a pleasure to meet a fan,” he said from the front office before pushing into the room, Annabeth following behind him with stars in her eyes and a notepad clutched against her chest.
Isobel blinked away her disorientation, glancing up at Oscar’s face. He was wide awake, cradling her in his arms, his jaw tight like he was prepared for a fight. Lily was also awake, surrounded by drawings and with a pack of coloured pencils scattered over the bed around her legs.
“Ah, right where I left you. Hello, Daughter.”
Had he just … made a joke?
“Hello, Father,” she husked out, completely unsure.
“I’m here to take you back,” he said. “After a long detour to the hair salon, where Cooper believes you’ve been all morning.”
Oscar’s hold on her relaxed slightly, a hard breath expelled from his lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen West so pissed,” her father added, his tone positively jovial. “I think you’re about to be grounded.”
“That’s not funny,” she managed, stumbling from Oscar’s lap.
He deadpanned. “I wasn’t joking. You let me know if he gives you any trouble. I’m still your father—I can step in if you need me to.”
Isobel groaned, rubbing her hands through her hair, accidentally tugging half of the strands from her braid.
It was too early for Braun’s good-guy act.
She tugged on her hair tie, unravelling the braid as she turned back to Lily. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Can you be strong for a little while?”
Instead of the wide-eyed head bob Isobel had been expecting, she was met with watery eyes.
“Will I see you again?” Lily whispered.
“Don’t you dare talk like that,” Oscar growled, voice low.
Most of the fully-grown adults at Ironside would have flinched at that gravelled order from Oscar, but Lily only shot him a sheepish look.
“Of course you will.” Isobel forced a bright, carefree smile.
Thank god for Theodore and all the time she had spent studying his impeccable acting.
18
The Sadist Asshole
Cooper was in a mood.
Before boarding the plane to Vermont, he had threatened to pull the plug on the whole tour unless Oscar returned, saying that it was all of them or none of them.
Braun had borne down on him, matching fury for fury. “You think I wanted this? I’m the one funding this shitshow, not you, not Orion, not Ironside. Sato hasn’t gone AWOL. He’s in his home settlement where you all wanted him to stay, anyway. That’s why I’m funding the tour, remember? West had to beg the OGGB to let him out, remember? Let’s just give him a few weeks, and then we’ll swing back around and pick him up again before the end of the tour.”
It was an uncomfortable plane ride … made even worse because Mikel, Kalen, and Elijah were still mad at her. She was used to playing games with them where she danced around them, experimenting with their attraction to her and her to them, where they tested her in small ways, wondering if she could handle them, and she responded to their tests, wondering the same thing.
This felt like another game.
They were biding their time—probably because they had enough drama to deal with—and she was cautiously trying to take cues from them.
They landed in Vermont, and Cooper stepped off the plane first, his phone at his ear, his tone still pissed. Her father had rented another lodge with limited bedrooms, effectively separating the humans and the Gifted again. They went through their obligatory meeting with the police and then divided up the bedrooms. Braun and Teak were both staying with them this time. Teak marched straight into the kitchen and began hunting through the cupboards, slamming them in irritation. Isobel didn’t need to ask what she was looking for. If Teak wasn’t high, she was chasing down a bottle of alcohol.
Isobel hovered on the other side of the polished wooden kitchen island, shifting nervously from foot to foot. She wanted to take away Teak’s pain, but she had already tried it one morning in Vermont, and Teak had snapped at her to “mind her own business,” somehow sensing her—probably because Isobel assumed she was too drunk to notice and hadn’t been as careful as she usually was.
“I could make some tea?” Isobel offered weakly, watching Teak ransack the cupboards in search of alcohol.
Teak plastered an empty smile across her lips. “No need. I think I’ll put in an order for supplies. You want anything?”
“No …”
Teak was already walking out of the room.
Isobel sighed, picking up her luggage again and hauling it into her assigned room.
“Ten minutes to recharge and settle in,” Mikel called from the hallway. “Then meet up in the lounge. We need to move the furniture and set up the cameras.”
Isobel finished up a round of squat jumps, shaking out her legs to ease the burn as she eyed Mikel. He had let everyone go an hour earlier, but he was still working on her. Or torturing her. She wasn’t sure which.
They were outside on the huge balcony that wrapped the front of the lodge. The mountainscape was swallowed by darkness because they were still doing their workouts at night to save the daytime for their filmed activities.
There was light spilling onto the balcony from the inside of the lodge, but they were still half in shadow. Music played softly over the outdoor speakers, turned down so low that she could still hear her own laboured breath and the brush of Mikel’s shoes pacing over the wooden deck.
“Split jumps,” he demanded. “Until I say stop.”
She stretched her neck to the side, narrowing her eyes on him. “I think I’ve jumped enough,” she ventured, testing his anger. It had been simmering for days, pushed far down and slowly rising. It seemed it had finally reached the surface.
“You’ve had enough when I say so.” He stopped before her. “Split jumps. Now.”
She started the exercise, her calves and glutes on fire from the way he was stacking exercises of the same muscle groups together.
“Higher,” he snapped.
She let out a grunt. It was all she could muster.
Just before she began to cramp, he told her to stop.
“Plank,” he demanded, pointing to the floor.
She got into position and felt his foot against her ass, pushing her out of it so that she tumbled onto her side.
“Plank,” he said again.
“Seriously?” she growled.
He ducked down, his hand loosely circling her neck, his mouth a breath from hers, his eyes drilling into her. “Plank,” he whispered before releasing her and standing again.
She planked again.
He planted his shoe against her hip and toppled her over again.
This time, she swore and regained her position before he could demand it of her.
“Good girl,” he crooned, his tone cruel. “We’re going to keep going until you learn how to do as you’re told, even if you don’t like it.”
She growled as he kicked her over again. “This is fucked up.”
She got back into position.
He laughed, the sound hollow, and crouched beside her, one hand landing over her ass, pressing down. “Hold your position,” he demanded, his free hand gripping her face and turning her eyes to his. “You want to know what’s fucked up? My mate ignored me and stepped in front of someone who could have buried razor-sharp talons into her chest before she could fucking open her pretty little lips and squeak for help. Hold it.”
Her arms trembled, and his grip on her ass shifted, filling his palm with her flesh as he squeezed painfully hard, still trying to press her down. She was wearing booty shorts and a loose cutoff shirt over her sports bra, so his fingers dug into the lower curve of her butt cheek. She tried to stop it, but the rough, domineering grip sent a flood of heat to pool low in her belly, and she could feel herself getting wet.
Furious, but wet.
“And then she ran away and put herself in danger again when she was under strict orders not to go anywhere without an escort,” Mikel finished, his demanding fingers releasing her.
She waited for him to push her again, but instead, he stepped away from her. “Meet me in my room in ten minutes. I was going to let you off with a rough training session, but if you’re going to enjoy it, then it’s time we levelled up your punishment, pet. Say yes, Sir.”
“Y-Yes, Sir.” She flopped onto her butt, staring up at him in shock, trying to hide the shiver that passed through her as the words left her lips.
It didn’t feel the same as when she called the officials “sir” or “ma’am,” and by the way Mikel froze, it wasn’t a line he had intended on crossing just yet. His breath seemed sharp, his eyes dropping down her sprawled legs. His big chest swelled as he sucked in air, and then he turned on his heel and left her there.
Ten minutes seemed unnecessary. Likely intended to punish her even more because it definitely wasn’t enough time for her to distract herself with anything else. She stepped into the lounge room, finding Moses and Niko reclined in chairs with a view directly out to the deck. They were already showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, ready for bed, lazily flipping through channels. It was a farce. They didn’t have time to laze around and watch TV. They should have been in bed, stealing every minute of sleep that they could.
“You’re both evil if you enjoyed watching that,” she accused, folding her arms over her chest.
“He let you off easy,” Moses remarked, giving her a very similar look to the one Mikel had just given her, his eyes trailing the line of her legs.
“He’s not done,” Niko noted, seeing the despairing look on her face. He chuckled, shaking his head. The sound was dark. “This is why we don’t piss off Mikel, mat—”
He cut himself off. Mate, he had been about to say. But he swallowed it instead.
“Will it work if I run crying to Kalen?” she asked, pretending not to notice. She and Niko were still sorting out what they were to each other. They were slowly getting back to where they were, just as he was slowly getting back to who he was.
She didn’t want to push him, and she knew he was terrified that he would lose control the way Oscar had. She felt it from him in waves whenever she tried to get physically close to him.
“Kalen will tell him to double the punishment if you do that.” Moses tsked, shaking his head.
“What should I expect?” She pouted, slipping to the couch beside Niko.
His hand landed over her thigh immediately, like he couldn’t help himself, and he pulled her closer. It was instinct, but he never let it go too far.
“We’re not his sub,” Niko murmured close to her ear. “Something tells me he isn’t going to put you on a suicidal diet or make you run for three hours with weights strapped to your ankles.”
“I’m n-not his sub,” she stuttered.
Moses regarded her cooly. “She says, all subby-like,” he drawled.
She glared at him. “I’ll give you subby.”
