25. Izzy

Chapter 25

Izzy

A gony. I am in pain. Everything hurts.

It was in this moment, on the cusp of being awake and still asleep, I realized how much I enjoyed waking up on fingers as opposed to…

Whatever the fuck this was.

That’s it Izzy, cope through your trauma with humor. Laugh so you can’t cry.

Because all I wanted was to break down. My head was throbbing a beat to my heart, my mouth tasted like tuna salad that had been left on the counter for a week, and my arms were numb , tingling with phantom pain.

They were tied down again. Except this time, it was just my wrists tied, extending on each side of me, and instead of on a chair, the surface beneath me was soft.

A bed.

Fuck . Fuck . Fuck .

The mattress shifted before a hot weight pressed down onto my chest, constricting my air.

It was time, I couldn’t delay this reality any longer.

I opened my eyes.

And I screamed.

Sebastian? How?

“Hear that men? She’s scared at just the sight of me. Or perhaps it’s because you think you’re seeing a ghost? ”

Black treacherous eyes, hair just as dark but touched in grey that fell in waves into his face as he swooped down, his mouth centimeters from mine. He paused before touching me, his lips tugged up into a sinister smile before leaning back and headbutting me with all his might.

The pressure was a thousand explosions of fireworks ricocheting around my skull. Lights danced throughout my vision. I felt the heavy tendrils of subconsciousness pull me back into its depths, but I couldn’t allow it.

I didn’t want to wake up to these men fucking me or doing whatever the fuck they would do. Or what if I didn’t wake up at all? What if I just died?

Shutting down that line of thought, I tugged at my restraints again. My right wrist didn’t budge, but my left one?

Moving my fingers around, I felt a frayed part of the rope.

Hope infiltrated my panic.

I could do this.

I would do this.

“I’m not a ghost. Just the brother of a man that died because of you.”

Of course it fucking was. Sebastian is dead. I watched his head obliterated in front of me.

I still haven’t even had the time to process that yet.

“So how about this weather?” The question escaped me raspily before I could take it back. The line my father had instilled into me. It was a coping mechanism. I had used it countless times prior in anxiety, and now here I was spewing it at my would-be killer.

I had one moment of satisfaction where absolute confusion flickered across his face before it settled back. His lips quirked at the corners in a smug grin.

He bowed down, whispering into my ear, “The forecast doesn’t look good.” His disgustingly hot breath was slimy as it fanned me. “At least not for you. ”

I wanted to lose my cool, to dissolve into a useless puddle, to scream and cry, but that wouldn’t help.

Yara needs me , my dad needs me . My men. They will kill each other without me . I need to be okay for them. For my job. I'm going to kill this mother fucking asshole, just like I should have killed his brother.

It wasn’t my time to go, I had just found everything I needed to truly be happy. And I was determined to be fucking happy . I fucking deserved it.

I would make it out of this alive.

The smell of cigarettes permeated my nostrils and I surveyed the room as best I could. What I needed to do was come up with a plan. Because it was time for me to save myself.

Emilio had taken care of Sebastian for me, but now it was my turn. Maybe this was the universe’s fucked up way of giving me a do-over. Of letting me exact my own revenge. I would be strong, I would escape this York brother on my own.

If only to prove I could.