Chapter 6 ~ Isabella
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Oh, My God! Oh, sweet heaven. I am going to die. The astonished looks on everyone's faces tell's me this escape means nothing as we weave our way past elegant furniture, rushing towards the patio door.
Sebastian has a death grip on my hand, pinching my fingers tight, making my pinkie finger hurt; he is practically dragging me out of the room. Looking back briefly over my shoulder, I see Alexander tuck his hands into his pockets, his expression seething at our retreating backs.
Sebastian steps over the threshold, tugging a little harder to hasten my steps. He halts by the stone banister, pulling my arm harder, forcing me to whip around, almost tripping over a lounge chair as he swings me in a half-circle, forcing me to come face to face with him.
He has definitely inherited his father's good looks.
His longer, darker hair, which is incredibly curly and almost reaches his shoulders, it is flipped back to display a faint widow's peak.
He smiles at me with two dimples in his cheeks, yet he has his mother's eyes.
His appearance is striking, with crystal blue eyes and long, thick black lashes.
He is not nearly as tall as Alexander, but he is equally as muscular as his brother.
I don't have to crane my neck as much to look up at him as I did at Alexander, so he must be roughly 6 feet tall.
I pull my hand from his and start to slowly walk backwards, trying to remove myself from the view of the people staring openly from the doorway.
"Oh, sweet Jessica Parker on a trampoline!"
I drop my purse. Bending over at the waist, I hold my hips, sucking in air, "Christmas on a cracker!"
I stand up and breathe deeply, then hiss it out fast. I spin and stand and start walking away from him, lifting a hand to my forehead; I rub it back and forth.
"Sweet Mother of Dragons, what have I done?" I mumble to myself.
This is the most horrific thing that could have happened. Bloody Anna, I'm going to kill her, then cry on her shoulder like a baby. She said this would be easy, no big deal. Liar!
I imagined this evening being filled with rejection and outright repulsion. But the circus act I just did in there was not what I had planned.
I hunch over at the waist once more in an effort to breathe and calm my racing heart.
Slowly rising, I turn to see Sebastian casually lounging against the balcony railing with his legs crossed and his elbow resting on the ledge, looking as though we had just popped out for a breath of fresh air.
He is just watching me and smiling. SMILING!
My brain is assaulted by panic mixed with a dash of fantasy as I come up with a million different methods to get out of this nightmare scenario.
My immediate thought was that I could fling myself down the back steps going to the garden and break a limb.
I could plot my escape from the security of the hospital once an ambulance was called and I arrived at the hospital, alive.
Or even better, if I could get a nurse to falsify my death certificate and never have to worry about anyone finding me. like ever!
Shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand, I take a step closer to Sebastian. He seems nice enough, maybe he could help me? He pulled my butt out of there. Bonus, he's a Potter fan so it could be worth a try. Plus, he’s super cute.
Jesus, Izzy, hormonal!
My god, is there anyone in this house that’s not beautiful? It’s like a Forbes magazine up in here. Giving myself a mental shake. Focus Izzy, think hot dudes later, you're about to die. So get with the program. I inch a bit closer to him.
I clear my throat. "Is there a back way out of here?
Any chance you could just tell them you took me out to the lake and drowned me?
" I rush to him in my panic, grabbing his shoulders in a tight grip.
I lean close to his face, I plaster a smile on my face as the words rush out.
"You could say you took care of the problem.
" I beam up at him and wink, "Be? You know. .. the cleaner-upper guy?"
I release his shoulders and take a step back so he has his space, maybe he will help me?
So I give him the eyebrow-up smile, nodding my head up and down, trying to convince him, with my limited charm, that this is the best idea I've ever had.
I know I look like a crazy person. I am mid-panic attack and trying to convince my soon-to-be cute brother-in-law to fake my death.
He is still just smiling at me. Then he tilts his body closer to me as if to say something I am hoping will save my butt. He looks me right in the eye. "Cleaner upper guy?" Then he barks out laughing, a full-bellied, deep-rumbling laugh.
What the jolly rancher?
Stepping back a bit I stare at him shocked at his outburst because this is not funny. I am about to die and he thinks this is hilarious. Not only am I scared and panicked, but I am also starting to get a bit angry.
"Cleaner upper guy?" He slaps his thigh. "Oh, I can't wait to tell Chris that one."
He clutches his stomach, wipes away a tear under one eye with his other hand, and whispers it to himself one more time.
He looks at me again and says, "Christmas on a cracker? Is that your version of swearing? " He leans back on the banister with both elbows, his head tilted up to the sky, and starts to howl in laughter again.
I want to cry. I want to smack him for laughing, but most of all, I want to run. I begin to back away from him while shaking my head. I'm freaking out because he stole me from a room full of people I was supposed to impress but failed miserably at.
Dread causes me to start pacing back and forth, and I can feel my fingers tingling. Sweat is forming on my brow, and I keep trying to breathe normally.
Not now, Izzy, not now! This is all I need on top of everything else.
I'm at a loss for what to do. I'm not sure how to fix this. Or even if this can be fixed? My parents are going to freak out on me no matter what, so I’m a dead girl walking.
Stopping, I look over at Sebastian with pleading eyes: "I don't know you. You don't know me? I get it. I do, and you're his brother, his family."
I wrap my arms around my waist and look down ashamed, kicking a pebble with the tip of my red shoe: "So, of course, you would find my humiliation funny. Jokes on big brother right, everyone gets a good laugh?"
I look up at him with a wobbly smile lifting one hand in the air palm up.
"Oh look at the klutz he gets for a wife.” My voice falters.
“I'm a stranger to you all, and the last thing I wanted was to embarrass our families or myself.
I just wanted to make a good impression. Do something right for once. "
Hunching up my shoulders, I can't stop them anymore. My eyes start to sting and the tears prickle the corners threatening to fall. "I'm glad my impending death makes you laugh but to me? This is serious."
I can't stand to look at him anymore. Turning away, I head over to the back of the patio by the stairs leading down into the gardens. Fear takes over and I am scared now.
Really scared of my dad mostly.
I have to move because I don't know what else to do. Pacing won't help me, but it does help to burn off some of my anxiety as I wait for the solution to this mess to come to me. Back and forth, back and forth along the stone wall.
It’s not stopping the loop that continues to replay that whole scene in my mind. I clench my fist at my sides and sigh in humiliation.
I mean, good God, I totally kicked my purse across the room, stumbled in like a clown, stuttered out my excuse like a fool, embarrassed myself completely, and then I got dragged out of the room by his brother, no less.
That whole scene in itself proves the fact that I am not worthy to be Alexander's wife or any member of the organization for that matter. Oh god, how did I manage to screw this up so badly?
I walk farther back into the shade of the patio by the back wall of the house, leaning up against the cool stucco, and I rest my head against it, looking up at the blue sky.
I need to figure out a way to repair this because if the Russos don't kill me, I'm pretty sure my father and my mother are going to on the way home.
I can see my dad opening the car door and just throwing me out into oncoming traffic.
Right about now, a Mac truck would solve everyone's problem. I wouldn't have to face my family or theirs.
Alexander would be free to move on and find a suitable wife, most likely my sister in her perfect gold gown. My stomach flips, and I can feel the saliva starting to build in the back of my throat, making me feel sick like I want to throw up.
I look back at the garden beyond; a bead of sweat tickles down the side of my face. My Father is going to kill me or worse. My vision starts to go first because the trees are starting to get a bit fuzzy. I bend over at the waist, hands on my knees, breathing in deeply.
Nothing will get resolved if I unravel into a stress coma. Use your tools, Isabella!
"Chester Charlie and Chad." Breathe out.
Breathe in. "Chester Charlie and Chad."
"I'm pretty sure saying other men's names right now is not a good idea."
A deep voice says, from across the balcony. I gurgle out a startled scream and jump. I can only make out a hazy shadow, but I know it's Sebastian.
Holy pied piper! I forgot he was even there.
I was so in my head. Humiliation swamps me again, losing what little ground I gained.
As my throat constricts, I desperately try to latch on to something to keep me grounded and grasp the area in front of me, but I can't find anything, so I grab my dress for support.
"I can't! I can’t get any air at all! " My voice is breaking as I almost sob. I'm humiliated enough without crying, but I've fallen too deep down the rabbit hole.