39 Help

24.5K 834 277
                                    

Jonathan

My heart hammers in my chest as I watch Izzy's impossibly wide eyes roll back as she passes out. Ignoring the strangers waiting for us in our driveway I rush over to her door, giving no mind to the shouts behind me. She's deathly pale, no doubt terrified.

"Izzy?!" I throw her passenger door wide open and cup her cheek, trying to get a response from her. "Angel, come back to me." My chest tightens as I forget to breathe, waiting for any hint of a reaction.

"Do we need to call an ambulance?" One of the men asks. I wheel around to glare at the trespassers, ready to evict them but the shine of brass on the speakers hip is all that keeps me from decking him on the spot.

"Back off! What the fuck is wrong with you, showing up unannounced like this!?" I run my hand through my hair to keep from punching the surprised look off of his face. "If you're looking for Izzy, you know what happened to her! Christ!"

"Apologies Mr. Fletcher?" The further man in the black suit says. He shifts his jacket, showing the badge at his waist also. "Upsetting Ms. Turner wasn't our intention at all." His partner in the blue suit shows his palms as he backs up.

"Jonathan?" Izzy whimpers behind me.

Instantly the detectives are forgotten as I turn my attention back to Izzy completely. Her sapphire eyes are still wide and water slightly as she looks at me uncertainly. "Hey there," I coo. Once again I cup her cheek and Izzy relaxes slightly at my contact but her gaze eventually flickers behind me.

"What do they want?" she whispers.

"I think to talk to you. They're police officers." I reach over her lap and unclick her seatbelt. "Are you okay?"

Izzy nods, her cheeks are flushed and she's fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. In the span of five minutes, these guys have ruined the playful high she was riding, leaving her upset and embarrassed. It takes every ounce of self-control I have to not rip into them right here and now but I don't think she would appreciate that.

"If you need a minute, or are not up to talking to them, I will send them away, just say the word-"

Izzy shakes her head. "It must be important, right?" Her voice is small and uncertain as she lifts her gaze to mine for reassurance.

"Probably. I'll be right here with you the entire time. If you need to stop, just say the word, okay?" I hold out my hand to help her out and she forces a small but grateful smile as she takes it.

"Thank you." She tucks up against me as she turns her attention to the men waiting silently.

"Ms. Turner, you have our sincere apologies. We never meant to upset you or Mr. Fletcher." He holds out his hand. "Detective Matthews and my partner Detective St. Louis."

"Might we come in to talk for a few minutes?" Detective St. Louis asks. He straightens his black suit jacket and I look at Izzy to make sure she's okay.

"We can spare a few moments, but we've just gotten back from a busy day. Give us a couple of minutes to freshen up, yeah?" I look St. Louis straight in the eyes, making it clear that I'm not asking and he nods.

I don't wait for anything more and guide Izzy to the front door. We leave the men standing in the front foyer while I escort her upstairs and to our room. She slips away as I close the bedroom door and heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask. Izzy finishes smoothing her hair back then wraps her arms around my waist as she lays her head on my chest. She breathes in deeply and lets the air out slowly.

His Broken Submissive : MercyWhere stories live. Discover now