Zayne’s POV
The push-up count stopped at thirty. I could’ve gone to fifty, maybe sixty, but my mind wasn’t keeping pace with my body.
Every time I exhaled, Isla's face flashed.
The glasses. The trembling hands. The soaked hair plastered to her cheeks.
I dropped to my knees and sat back on my heels, breathing through the memory that wouldn’t stop.
I dragged a towel over my face, forcing myself to focus. It didn’t work.
I’d told myself I was going downstairs for my charger. Truth? I just wanted to see her again. Just once more, to make sure if the woman I’d pulled out of that alley was really Isla and not a figment of my guilt-soaked imagination.
She was more than real.
Everything Sienna and Silas had ever said about Isla had been criminally inaccurate.
Silas had described her as “s
