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Maddox
Jesus Christ, talking to Isabella gets my heart pumping. While we were speaking, my mind was playing her actions from the night before like an erotic movie on loop. I had to bite my tongue on more than one occasion, trying to hold steady in our conversation. Since her show, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. I don’t even know what this is, or why it’s got me hooked. She’s like some fucking drug, and I never touch the stuff.
Her presence is a high in itself, and her soft voice is music to my ears. I didn’t think it would carry over into my day-to-day life. Whatever’s going on with me is affecting more than brooding thoughts. It’s making me weak, vulnerable, lost…
Hell, I’m following behind her like a good little puppy, when I should be thinking of The King’s reward for completing his impossible task. How I pulled it off in my half-aware state should impress me, but it doesn’t. I’m riddled with anxiety and left longing. Maybe Isabella’s right – escaping this life and getting far away might be exactly what we both need. Forgetting about our worries and troubles, and starting somewhere new.
Why am I even adding her to this fantasy? If I’m going to disappear, it’s going to be alone. I’m pussy-whipped and I haven’t even touched her. How pathetic.
Isabella leads me back to her house; up the same roads that brought us to the gas station. She drives slowly, which is comical in the manufactured stallion she’s driving. It doesn’t seem anyone’s aware of her escape as we pull through the front gates. Even the guard on station doesn’t bother more than a wave and a nod.
It doesn’t seem right. Bruno Romani’s always been a man who values excellence and safety. I’d have loved to have a chat about it, but I can’t without letting Bruno know Isabella tried running away. If news broke of her attempt, they’d make her life hell.
Isabella pulls her car into the garage and I stop at the front of the house. The garage door shuts behind her, and I feel somewhat foolish standing around the front yard, not knowing if anyone’s going to come out to greet.
Soon enough, Isabella emerges from inside.
What a relief. Otherwise, I’d have to knock on the door and wake The King myself. Even with my good news, that seems dangerous.
“Does he know you’re in?” Isabella asks.
“No. I didn’t tell him I was coming,” I reply. Looking at Isabella is like staring into the sun. If I keep locked on too long, I’ll go blind.
What’s with the poetic bullshit? I try to shake it off. Speak with The King and go home. Like dealing with Emma Blake, it’s easier to break the tasks up. Instead of thinking about the whole situation, take a small fraction of it and work around that. With intentions of speaking to Bruno, Isabella can’t filter into it.
“How about you come inside and I’ll get him for you?” Isabella says.
“Sure,” I follow her into their home.
The palace is a true testament to greed. Every furnishing and adornment is of the highest quality. Expensive paintings, rare antiques, marbled floors, and polished wooden banisters give the place a look and feel of richness. Unlike my father’s attempts, Bruno went all out to make sure he really was living in a palace and not some house with a catchy name.
“Oh, and Maddox,” Isabella’s leading the way over a red carpet. She points to a lounging area where I should wait, making her way to the stairs. “Thanks for tonight.”
“Thanks? What for?” I crook a brow.
“I guess for looking out for me,” Isabella smiles. She raises a hand that lingers near her chest, and I can almost see her touching herself. Is she going to? Another show before dealing with The King?
The thought leaves me ecstatic. My mind’s racing, ready…
Get yourself under control, I scold myself. This isn’t happy fun-time. You’re here to tell The King you killed someone tonight. How have I become so desensitized to this life? Emma Blake’s body isn’t even cold, and I’m already thinking about sex, rather than being tormented by my sins.
I take in a few deep breathes steadying my foolishness. I need to get out of my own head. It’s been a long night, I’m tired. That’s all this is.
Isabella opens her mouth again, but shuts it with a humph, before running upstairs. I make my way over to the lounging room, and flick on a light switch. Enormous windows loom overhead, showing off the entire backyard. The fireplace in one corner looks polished, pristine, and unused. Four white single-seater chairs stand in the middle of the room. Their long backs look stiff, and the rest doesn’t look any softer.
Bookshelves are against the walls, stacked with fiction and non-fiction alike. I scan a few of the titles, not pulling any from the shelf. Trying to pass the time and keep my thoughts off everything. A few minutes later, Bruno and Isabella return.
“Maddox, how are you?” Bruno’s still dressed in his gray three-piece suit. It’s nearly midnight. How come he isn’t in bed, yet?
“Mister Romani,” I walk over to shake his hand.
“I hear you’ve got something you want to discuss with me. Isabella hasn’t told me much more, however. Is something wrong?” Bruno’s gleeful expression shifts to one of concern. He doesn’t seem upset at my unannounced arrival. That’s a good enough start for me.
“No, sir,” I shake my head. “The opposite. I’ve completed the job we discussed. You won’t have to worry about it any further.”
I keep it vague, in case Isabella doesn’t know anything.
“Emma Blake’s dead?” Bruno spurts out. I guess he doesn’t care about Isabella hearing it. “This is wonderful news.”
