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 hasover 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 impactand 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."
