Chapter 22 ~ Isabella #2
I can’t help but stare at him. He’s staying very calm; there’s a look of determination on his face at my mention that I could run if I chose.
And Alexander will find me again; I know it with every fiber of my being, but the question that keeps popping into my head is why he is chasing me in the first place.
I meant fuck all to him.
He didn’t know about the baby until he found me in Fargo, so that wasn’t the reason he came. He was ordered to kill me, is all I can think of, and like the Christmas goose, he’ll keep me in comfort till the baby comes, and then... bullet. No Chester, Charlie, and Chad for me.
The tears start again, and I whimper as I hold my stomach, sinking lower in the bed, cradling her.
I will never raise her, see her grow up, or watch her take her first steps.
Oh, God, I should have just gone home in my head.
I would never have known about her or suffer this heartbreaking grief for the life of my baby, and I will never get to watch her grow up.
“Isabella, love. What’s wrong?” He reaches to touch my shoulder and I flinch away, crying harder.
My chest seizes, the words coming out broken like my heart.
“Just let me hold her before you kill me, that’s all I ask.
Just let me see her, kiss her and hold her.
Then do what you have to do.” I curl into the fetal position on the bed and hug my tummy, wishing I could crawl inside myself and gather her in my arms, and see her now.
To know the color of her hair. Are her eyes green or gray?
I stuff the comforter in my mouth and choke on my sobs.
“Oh my god, Isabella no, God. No, you’re not going to die, how could you even think that?”
I cry harder, shaking the bed and Alexander put a gentle hand on my hip. “Sweetheart, no. You’re safe, no one is going to hurt you. You’re my wife, the mother of my child. No one will hurt either of you.”
I look over my shoulder, his face pale and serious.
“You said I signed my death warrant, the baby is the only reason I’m still alive, so don’t pretend, Alex. I know the rules. It’s only a matter of time.”
His eyebrows furrow and he removes his hand.
“No more death talk. You will not die by my hand or any other. So, no more talk about that. You will live here, and we will take each day one at a time. I made a promise that I would prove to you how sorry I am. I built you a home, so you have your space without me, without the pressure of that life. I want us to start over. But I need to gain your trust and I know that will take time.”
“I don’t trust you.” I wipe my face on the comforter and half turn to watch him.
“I know you don’t, and I can’t blame you. But this is all for you. And I’ll prove it to you. One day, you will see, one day you will understand.”
I roll over, holding my tummy and study him.
If the one thing my Nonno taught me was to watch, listen, and wait, be aware of the words that people say versus the actions that they take.
I know I’ll never be free from Alexander.
He is the father of my baby and running seems to get me nowhere, obviously.
I lament, “I don’t know if it’s a girl, she just feels like one to me.” His eyes go wide and he looks at me. “I didn’t go to the hospital, I did a test at home when I got sick all the time. Mrs. Schmidt was the one who said I was pregnant. I was too scared to go in case you found me.”
I can feel my cheeks burning; the Kleenex is in shards in my hand as I keep picking it apart. His tanned hand reaches over, holding mine.
“We will make an appointment for you and the little one. You need to take care of yourself now, Isabella.” His thumb strokes my wrist and I want so much to slap his hand away but at the same time it’s comforting.
I was scared to do this on my own, but I was determined to do it.
She will be mine to love and love me back.
I need to move my hand away from his touch, I may not be getting a bullet, but I’m still a prisoner.
As much as I would like to be grateful, I’m not.
I slide my hand away from under his to pick up my car keys and my phone and set them on the nightstand.
I wiggle back a bit and push up a little more on the bed, and Alexander jumps up to help, but stops himself. I sit back and bring the comforter up higher. If I have to talk to him, I’d like to at least feel clean.
“Can I have a shower? I feel gross.”
He points at me, his look almost grateful for the switch in conversation. “Ahhh, yes. Umm, just give me one minute.”
He hurries over to the bathroom and flicks on the light. I hear him moving things around. A curse word echoes, and then he comes to the side of the bed with a beautiful pink terry cloth bathrobe.
“I’ll close my eyes while you put this on, and I’ll help you to the bathroom.”
True to his word, Alexander closes his eyes and holds the bathrobe open for me.
I slowly swing my legs off the bed. I use the headboard to try to anchor myself up.
My feet burn as soon as they touch the floor, and I wince.
I slip my arms in and tie the robe. Alexander puts his hands on my shoulders.
“Are you doing okay?
I just nod, “yeah, my feet burn, but I’m good.” He puts one arm around my waist and the other one in my hand as we slowly make our way across the floor. My feet are bright red, and I can see tiny little blisters on the tops of the knuckles on my toes.
“You’re going to have to shower in lukewarm water, Bella. You can’t have hot water on your feet, or you’ll blister further. Or... at least that’s what Dr. Andrews told me”
We get into the bathroom, and it’s beautiful.
It’s not as big as the one in my old room in his house, but it’s perfect.
The shower is nice and wide and glass-enclosed.
He has everything that I left behind on the counter.
It’s as if he was making sure I was coming back.
That makes my heart sink a little bit more.
I could see that he took one of the vanity stools and stuck it in the shower stall. I’m glad he did, because I don’t think I’m able to stand long enough and I’m not about to have him see me naked with my immense belly protruding out.
“I just put that stool in there so you can sit down. I’ll close my eyes when you’re ready to give me the robe.”
I just nod and go to the shower door and open it. He hasn’t let go of my hand yet, and I take my seat.
“I’ll leave and let you wash, but then just call when you’re ready for a towel. Just be careful and don’t have the water too hot. I’ll be right outside the door waiting, okay?”
I just keep looking at him, waiting for the Alexander I know. This version of him is freaking me out. He’s so beautiful, like a fucken angel sent to torture me, and he really needs to back off the butterscotch smell. I want pudding now so badly and to lick his neck, even though I hate him.
“Okay. You can close your eyes now.” and he does.
I let go of his hand and slipped out of the robe, handing it to him.
I reach up and turn the shower on. Alexander leaves, and I grab the nozzle and let the warm water run over my head.
My toes burn, but I need to feel clean. My hair is a matted mess; it’s almost crunchy as I rub my hands through it to get it wet.
I take out the shampoo, which is the same one I use. He thought of everything, asshole.
I call out once I’m done, and true to his words, Alexander has his eyes closed with a towel in his hand feeling the air in front of him as he comes in. “You’re going to have to guide me a little bit, bunny. I know relatively where you are, but not exactly.”
That makes me laugh inside my head. I open up the shower door and hang on to the side of the handle. I can’t help but giggle a little at the sight of a blind Alexander walking slowly with his hand out. So, I call softly, “Marco.”
Alexander smiles wide, bringing out his dimples. He moves closer to me. “Again, bunny.”
He’s right in front of me, his black dress pants with his white dress shirt open at the collar, the sleeves rolled up showing off his strong, thick forearms. I can smell the butterscotch vanilla and I melt a bit.
I giggle, “Marco.” He reaches out blindly and his hand touches my shoulder. He takes a small breath in, his finger trailing up, following the curve of my neck to cup my wet cheek.
His eyes are still closed, but his voice is husky. “God, I missed that giggle. Polo, little bunny.” He hands me the towel and I wrap it around myself. I’m a little light-headed from the shower and being up for so long, so I grab his hand to steady myself.
“I’m ready.”
He opens his eyes. His smile falters and his eyes turn dark gray. “I know you’re real, but for six months, this moment was nothing but a dream.”
He tucks the wet hair off my face behind my ear, and I tingle all over. Damn it! I’m supposed to hate this man. Remember vagina? No falling for the sweet words and the pudding smell!
Alexander helps me over to the bed and I blink up at him and mutter, “I’m hungry.”
“Of course. Rose brought you breakfast. I can heat it up and bring it in. You need to lie down for a bit.” He gently sits me on the bed.
“Anna bought you some clothes since your old clothes won’t fit. I was out of my element in maternity clothes. Thank God she was here.” He put his hand on the back of his neck, looking around, trying to find something. “Ahh.“
He walks over to the side of the chair and plucks up a bag, and hands it to me. “Anna was here? When?”
“Ahh, the night we brought you home. I wanted you to have people around you that you love and trust.”
I hold the bag midair, “Ah, Thank you. Can I see her?”
“Sure, you have your phone, you're free to call her and do whatever you want, Isabella. No tracker on the phone either if that’s what you're scared of. I told you. I want your trust.” He jacks his thumb over his shoulder towards the door. “I’ll go get your breakfast. Did you need help?”