Chapter 2 - Izabel #2
“That sounds like a good idea, if you don’t mind talking to Josiah. But let me tell Illyin before Josiah calls him. It will be better if I tell him first, considering that I'm the one who went against his word. Maybe we can aim to talk to my brother by tomorrow night? Is that too soon?”
“I’ll speak to Josiah tonight after work. It’s not too soon at all,” she smiles. “We can work together to get the guys to reach some kind of understanding.”
When I leave Kayla’s so she can start her workday, it’s still early morning, and I’m feeling light as a feather because of how well the conversation went.
Glancing at the dashboard in my car, I note it’s almost nine.
I want to go home and shower and change, but I may as well stop at the grocery store first. Then this afternoon I’ll be free to work on my new artwork, which I started last night.
The conversation with Kayla went well, but it doesn’t mean that the conversation with my brother is going to, so my nerves are starting to spike a bit again.
Drawing will help distract me.
I like to park as far as possible from the store entrance. It’s a healthy habit, if you ask me. It means you have to walk farther, and you can get more steps in your day without having to try too hard.
I climb out of the Jeep and slam the door behind me as I turn to walk towards the store.
It’s quite busy already despite the weather being extra cold today.
“Izabel,” a deep voice demands my attention. I spin towards the man calling my name, not recognizing his voice at all.
But when I turn to face him, I do recognize him, after all.
One of my brother’s right-hand men. He keeps a small circle of guys very close to him because he struggles to trust people. Starke has been working at my brother’s side for years.
“Starke,” I grumble his name in greeting. He looks scary to anyone who hasn’t met him, but I’ve known him for too long to be scared of him in any way.
“You have other come with me now. Your brother wants you in Milwaukee,” he says gruffly.
I scoff. “Actually, I don’t have to go anywhere with you, Starke. I happen to be my own person living my own life,” I snap, agitated.
“Your brother insists, Izabel. I have been told not to leave Chicago without you,” he says sternly.
“That’s hilarious. Because that is exactly what you are going to do. And why the hell did Illyin send you? It’s so fucking dramatic. He couldn’t pick up the phone and call me? He had to send a henchman to drag me away like I’m some escaped convict? It’s so ridiculous!” I say angrily.
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter what you say, I still have to bring you back with me.”
“Well, I’m not going back. I already know what he wants to talk to me about.
He’s pissed off that I moved to Chicago without his permission.
Well, you can tell him that he took too long to decide, and I am done with waiting for him to choose things for me.
This is my life, and I am going to live it how I want to live it. ”
Starke takes a step towards me with an ominous focus in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare!” I demand.
He reaches for me, and I shove hard against his chest.
To my horror, Starke grabs my fist and yanks me towards him.
“Hey! Let me go right now!” I yelp in surprise. “How dare you manhandle me like that!”
“You will come with me, whether you like it or—”
Out of nowhere, a guy appears and snarls at Starke, “Let her go right now.”
“Stay out of this, asshole,” Starke snaps back.
My eyes trace over the stranger. He’s the literal personified image of tall, dark and handsome.
His close-cropped black hair and the dark shadow of stubble over his face accentuate the lightness of his bright blue eyes.
He’s wearing a black shirt and a black jacket, but from the unbuttoned neck I can see tattoos coating his skin and crawling up the side of his thick, muscular neck.
The tendons are pulled taut over his neck and along his jaw as he takes a step towards Starke. My eyes roam over his broad shoulders and solid-looking body. The guy clearly works out. He's almost the same height as Starke, which says a lot, because Starke is a brute.
The stranger glances at me, and my heart practically somersaults into my throat. Fuck me, those eyes are intense.
My heart races in confusion and desire, because holy fuck, he’s gorgeous—but what the hell is he doing?
Knight in shining armor? He doesn’t look the type. He looks like a I don’t give a shit about anyone type. What would I know about how a knight in shining armor is supposed to look, though?
“I said, let the girl go,” he snarls again, his voice is deep, vibrating through me as he strikes some sleeping chord in my body and hums it to life.
Starke releases his grip on me, and I huff, rubbing my wrist in annoyance. He turns towards the stranger, and I stand staring and wondering what the hell I should do.
Run, before the distraction is over and Starke makes another grab for you.
I’m about to do just that when Starke realizes what I’m up to and storms towards me again.
The stranger doesn’t skip a beat. He launches at Starke, swinging his arm with incredible force. He clocks Starke on the temple, and the giant of a man hits the ground, lights out!
“What the!” I yell in surprise, suddenly worried that this has gone too far.
But the stranger doesn’t stop there. He grabs my wrist and shouts, “Run, he won’t be down for long!”
On autopilot, I start running. This whole thing is so wildly out of the norm that I haven’t had a second to process any of it.