Chapter 8 ~ Isabella
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My heart is beating so fast I can hear it ringing in my ears. I am running blindly now, every step I take, getting faster to get away from Alexander.
He terrifies me, bringing up the past I fought so hard to move forward from, to forget.
He feels like them.
The memories are flooding in, crashing in like waves on the shore, slamming into my brain. The tears stream down my cheeks like hot water.
I can not stop the images from assaulting me.
My skin crawls and I can feel their hands clawing at my on my throat, the bite of the zip ties that held my wrists and ankles for days.
The way the sharp plastic pinched and dug into my skin when I struggled to break free from the pitch-black room, they held me in.
I can still feel the cold, wet cement on my skin even now as I blindly make my way to the patio door.
My body shivers as I remember their hands-on me, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and pulling me like a rag doll across the cement floor.
The instinct to get somewhere safe is overwhelming. The need to hide anywhere from the monsters that haunt my dreams, away from the monster who now follows me like a predator. I run my hand along the wall, blindly searching for the doorframe.
Once I feel it in my grasp, I grip it tight and swung myself inside, reaching my hand out for the grand piano to steady myself.
I can vaguely see the door across the room.
My eyes burn from the tears, and safety feels miles away, but I know the door is less than thirty feet.
Letting go of the piano, I stagger my way toward the couch.
I can feel the soft silk under my hand as I trail my fingers across the back of it to keep my balance.
"Isabella? Are you all right?" I yelp, and I turn to see a blurry Sebastian weaving his way through the furniture to get to me.
I just keep shaking my head back and forth. In my head, I scream, "No! I am not okay." But I can't get my voice to work to answer him.
I know I am a mess and that he is only concerned about me. My mascara must be running down my face by now, and my hair is in knots around my head. The front of my dress is wet and sticking to my skin from sweat and tears.
Putting my hands up in defence to stop Sebastian from getting any closer, I keep trying to back my way out of the room that is stifling me. My eyes dart from Sebastian to the door to the foyer, I do not want him anywhere near me.
I do not want anyone near me right now. I just want to get out.
"She's fine." The deep baritone of his voice slithers up my spine, freezing my retreat.
I look at him as he casually leans his hip against the back of the sofa, his hands tucked into his suit pockets. His grey eyes are cold as they rake over my body, a smirk lifting one corner of his mouth like he is proud he has caused me to unravel.
Move Isabella! My brain screams at me to move now!
Nevertheless, I can not seem to make my legs work. They are shaking so badly, I am frozen to the spot with fear. A tiny trickle of urine seeps out, and I can feel the dampness between my legs.
Sebastian steps in front of me breaking the spell Alexander has over me, and I start to take small, careful steps backward, my vision solely focused on him, watching for any sign he will advance on me again.
I use my hand behind my back to search blindly for the door. Just a few more steps and I can run. Where I do not know, but the urge to flee is paramount.
"She doesn't look fucken fine!" Sebastian shouts, his hand waving up and down my body. Never breaking eye contact with me, Alexander pushes off the couch, taking a step toward Sebastian, who is still blocking him from my retreat.
My hand finally finds a purchase on the doorframe, and I twist my body to grab it with both hands, still watching Alexander over my shoulder.
A rather large blond male, the one who was talking with my sister, steps in between the men, putting his hands on both their chests.
"Enough brothers! Enough! "
Sebastian moves forward, pushing against the palm holding him back, leaning closer to Alexander, his voice menacing, "She is not a toy from your playground, Alex.
She is a stranger here; she doesn't even know you!
This woman is to be your wife and this is how you treat her?
You scare the fuck out of her and make her cry? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Alexander finally takes his eyes off me, leveling Sebastian in a cold, dead stare.
I used this opportunity to finally burst free and run out into the foyer. I do not make it far when I slam my face into a very large chest. Two large hands grab my shoulders to steady me before I hit the floor.
"Aggettivo piccolo?" A deep gravelly voice says. He called me Little One. I speak a few languages, including Italian.
I steady myself and look up. My nose is numb from the impact and my eyes are still blurry from crying, but I can see it is the man from the driveway. He is massive this close-up, and I feel insignificant in his hands as if he could break me like a twig. I guess compared to him, I am little.
"Sostantivo little dove, you will hurt yourself."
Calm myself? Is he kidding me right now?
My reply is frail but I get it out. "I'm fine."
I hiccup, giving him a weak smile, trying to get myself under control. I wipe my eyes and start to back away, but he takes my wrist and holds it like he doesn't want to let go.
He looks at my face and then back into the doorway I just stumbled from, the brothers' voices getting louder.
"Please?" I say, tugging at my arm, "I'm fine really."
I keep backing away from him, and he finally lets my wrist go. Turning to the right, I head down the hall where I first met Maria; I know there is a powder room just past the big buffet table.
Taking a chance, I glance behind me. The huge man is watching me, his shoulders squared and his chest puffed out, fists in a white-knuckle grip at his sides.
He looks angry, very angry. I just seem to be making everyone mad tonight.
Sprinting to the bathroom, I struggled with the door handle in my rush to get inside. The handle finally clicks and I rush in, slamming the door behind me, and press my body back against it.
Closing my eyes, I suck in a big breath. A wave of nausea hits the back of my throat and I rush to the toilet, hitting the floor hard with my knees. I kneel over and lift the lid just in time.
Once I finally empty my stomach, I grab some toilet paper beside me and wipe my mouth. I fall on my butt and lean against the wall, feeling hollow and empty inside.
Bringing my knees up to my chest, I hold onto my legs, resting my head on my arms. The tears flow freely now that I am alone. I can not stop them, even if I wanted to. How could this simple dinner turn into such a nightmare?
How am I supposed to face a lifetime with this brutal man if the prospect of one single dinner makes me piss my pants?
I can't see my way out.
I bang my head on my knees. Think Isabella? Use your head instead of your fear.
Stop crying for a minute, then get it together. As Dr. Marshall says, do not let fear rule your mind. Control what you can control and work on one problem at a time.
Okay? Problem one.
I need to leave this bathroom and face a dinner party of angry family members.
Mine especially. Get up, that is the first step.
Slowly lifting my trembling body from the floor; I turn on the cold-water tap in the sink, scooping handfuls to rinse out the bitter taste in my mouth.
Splashing some water on my face, I let the cold water cool my burning cheeks.
I look up at myself in the mirror. I am such a mess.
Black streaks run down my cheeks. My hair is a bird's nest on top of my head, and my eyes are red and puffy from crying. The face reflected back at me is paper white and my dress is soaked in a vee across my boobs.
I would give anything to go back to this morning and tell that image of myself to run. Pack my bags and disappear.
The evening is still not over. I still have to walk out there and face his family, my family, and sit through dinner. God!
My stomach heaves at the thought as bile rises, and I feel like I am going to throw up again. I cup more water to my lips and take a small drink. I need to get myself under control. I am pretty sure I threw up the pill that Sebastian handed to me, so that's not going to help.
"Chester, Charlie, and Chad," I repeat to myself.
I keep repeating it in my head as I grab a small hand towel off the rack and start to dry my face.
I wipe away the black streaks on my cheeks and dab at my wet dress, trying to rub it dry as best I can.
My hair? I can only finger-comb out the knots and I make a ponytail with my hand, and I start to twist it up, winding the mass around the back of my head and tucking the end into the bun at the base.
A few pieces escape, framing my face, but it looks better than when I came in here.
I lean closer to the mirror and turn my face back and forth, looking at the slight red marks on my neck. They won't leave a bruise, but I cannot hide them.
A knock sounds on the door, making me scream and jump back, holding my chest in one hand and the sink in the other.
"Times up, Isabella." His deep voice vibrates through the door.
Alexander!
Panic starts to creep in again and I cannot move as I stare at the door holding my breath. It is the only thing keeping me safe. My throat is thick and I can not bring myself to answer him, let alone move to open the door.
Still, I will eventually have to. I can't stay in the Russos' restroom forever. I'll have to brave a room full of people at some point tonight and get through dinner. I have to make every effort to continue this charade until I figure out how to save us both from this disaster of a marriage.
"I will give you two seconds to open this door, or I will bust it down. Your choice. Make it quick, Isabella."