BENJAMIN CARUSO
Isabelle’s outstretched hand blocked Benjamin from coming any closer, making all of this so much harder for him. What he needed right now was a friend, someone he could trust with his secrets. But, Isabelle’s current disposition wasn’t the kind of reaction he was hoping for. Although, it made sense. Isabelle wasn’t his to lean on. She was Killian’s. Which was still riddle in itself. Killian was a psychopath and from what Benjamin gathered, Isabelle was not. But maybe that was the allure? The idea of being loved by someone who doesn’t love anyone. It could have been that. Or, she could have used him to get to Killian. Their entire night together could have been nothing more than a trick. A way for her to get to the boss. If so, it worked. She was a Queen now and her friends were Reapers.
“So that’s how it is? I’m on the outside? What’s going to happen to me, Isabelle? Are you going to sew me up and send me to Tombstone City for caring about you?” There was a burning pressure behind his eyes now, as they filled with tears. He turned his face, blinking a few times so she wouldn’t be able to read him. But Isabelle never needed an emotion to be obvious, she could read a person better than a polygraph test.
“Oh yeah, he would never hurt you? He put a knife to my face, Isabelle. He trashed the party you put together. He’s unhinged! He’s a fucking psychopath.” This wasn’t the kind of conversation he wanted to have with her, but he couldn’t stand seeing her this way. She was bleeding last night, and when she emerged from Killian’s office (wearing his jacket), he could tell her dress had been cut off. How was any of that warranted? It was clear, Benjamin had no idea just how strong, capable, and feisty Isabelle truly was. He saw her as an innocent girl, who was in way over her head. Which, is the way most men viewed her. Killian was the only person who could see past the cliché princess, trapped in a tower, and waiting for a prince. Princes were for girls who are too afraid to slay their own dragons. To Killian, Isabelle was a warrior queen, not a damsel in distress.
“Something is wrong,” Benjamin whispered, “—I am stressed.” With every soft plea, he moved closer. Isabelle seemed less rigid now, and so Benjamin took advantage of it by placing his hands on her hips. “I need you, Isabelle.” The rest of their conversation could come later. In bed, and tangled up in the sheets. Benjamin would rather wait out her resolve, before confiding in her. He needed to know he could still trust her, and what better way to prove it than by giving into him, one last time.
“I trust you..” he promised, despite knowing she’d see right through him. Isabelle was gifted in a lot of ways, her ability to see through people’s bullshit was just the tip of the iceberg. “Do you still trust me?” As Isabelle dragged his jacket back, he rolled his shoulders. After it landed on the chair behind him, he sat down and reached for her hips again. “One last time..” Benjamin pleaded, and then pulled her down into his lap, “Please?”
No amount of genuine force could have kept Izzy from rolling her eyes. No one said anything about him being banished or punished for loving her. If, assuming, that’s how he felt. These days Izzy didn’t know if was her, per se, that he loved or the chase “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her fingers twitched at her sides. Maybe with nerves? Maybe with anxiety. It was anyone’s guess, really. “I would never banish you to Tombstone City and I would never allow him to do so either. So, let’s not even talk about that as if it is a possibility.” As far as she was concerned, they both needed Benjamin. His skill set extended far beyond their personal dealings. He wasn’t just an adviser or friend or casual ex-hook up. He was their canary, for a reason.
“How can you even say that?” It was Izzy’s turn to get emotional. Her nostrils flared and the hair along her shoulders swayed back and forth as she shook her head in utter disbelief of the words shockingly flowing from his mouth. After the blood bond, Izzy was plagued with this very real and very raw, in depth understanding of Killian. It was as if she could wear his shoes now and understand the monster behind the madness. “Better yet -- why don’t you mind your tongue?” Everything about Izzy was different. From her clothes to her hair to her natural state and standoffish demeanor. Killian was teaching her to become a queen and in order to do that, she had to shed some of the old skin. Like a snake after it hibernates. She was bloodthirsty now and the weight of her new responsibilities, made her heart and head, both heavier.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about--” His assumptions about her weren’t entirely wrong but, they weren’t entirely right either. Regardless, Izzy let Benjamin continue before his fingers latched onto her sides and his hands found purchase along on her hips, pulling her down into the forbidden comfort of his lap. “What we want or what we need, is not always what’s best for us.” Izzy wanted and needed a mother growing up. Doesn’t mean, the one she had was good for her or it would’ve made any difference. Maybe it’s true that life has a way of figuring itself out on it’s own. These were the cards they were dealt and they had to make due with them. Izzy was Killian’s, he was hers, and Benjamin was on the sidelines. That’s just the way it is. Although, he deserved better. Even if Izzy didn’t want to accept that his version of better required a life not with her. Or happiness that she couldn’t necessarily bring him anymore.
“We can’t do this.” Her fingers steadied themselves on his shoulders before she pried herself off of his lap. It was important she kept her distance and so Izzy stood in front of the balcony doors, with her arms crossed and her attention cast down, trained on the party guests below. They were too high up for anyone to see them but, that didn’t mean they didn’t have a clear view of the party themselves. “What am I really doing here, Benji? Aside from the obvious bootycall. Which, I assure you is not going to happen here. Of all places.”













