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The world has not been kind to me. It never has. I was dealt a great deal of pain. Of loss. Of grief. But no matter the greatness of my pain, nothing, absolutely nothing, can compare to this.
This is past pain. It's not just an aching in my heart. Or a tightness in my chest. Its torturing of my soul. It feels as if I'm tied up, hanging from heavy chains on the ceiling and having my soul tortured.
I'm in car. I'm in a moving car. I'm staring out the window but I can't see a thing except the cabin exploding. That's all I can see.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, this is my fault. This is my fault. I should've- I should've known. I haven't been overseeing the mafia well. There should've been some clues. There- there should've been something." Marco cries, covering his face with his hands. "This is Nikolai's doing. I know it. I should've- I should've-"
Nikolai. This is Nikolai's doing.
A knife stabs right through my heart.
"Pull over." I say.
"What?" Callan snaps back, his bloodshot eyes looking at me through the mirror.
"Stop the car!" My throat feels raw and tender as I speak the words.
The car screeches and I don't wait as I push the door open, step out and empty my guts on the floor.
Nikolai. Nikolai, he caused this. I caused this.
And then I'm bursting into tears again. Uncontrollable, loud cries.
I can't. I can't do this. I can't. It hurts too much. It's too much torture for my poor soul. I can't take it.
A door slams open and closed. "Isabella." I hear Marco's voice. His hand pushes my hair out of the way as he hands me some tissues.
I glance up at him, wiping my mouth with the tissues. The sight breaks me because it only confirms what I'm desperately denying. His eyes are swollen and filled with pain. Tears paint his cheeks. Grief takes his face.
"We have to go back. Maybe he's still there. Maybe he's okay. We have- we have to go back, Marco." I frantically speak.
"I've already sent my men." Okay. Okay, that's good. They'll find him. They'll find my pretty boy. "They haven't found anything yet."
No. No. No.
"No. No, you're not listening." I'm shaking my head. No. No. No. My hands tangle through my hair, pulling on it in frustration.
"I'm going crazy. I'm going crazy. I'm going crazy." I didn't mean to speak out loud.
"Don't hurt yourself. Isabella." Marco's hands pulls my hands away, holding my wrists with one hand as he pulls me in his arms.
