Backstreet Boy

|Chapter 07: Wrong Number|

Isabella

The weight was weighing down on my shoulders causing intense pain.

Or rather, it could have been myself tensing mechanically from the episode about to happen in which I was working myself up over already. My endeavour was telling myself that the humongous portfolio that I had to carry and my stuffed-to-the-brim designer bag was the culprit for the agony. Commonly I left my portfolio in school but today this was a hindrance because I had coursework to complete.

The amble to the school parking lot seemed to take decades. My feet were carrying me there automatically without instruction from my brain.  Lizzie was positively bouncing from foot to foot beside of me. As soon as we made it out of the doors, she bustled to Matt by his own car.

"See you tomorrow, Isabella!" she bellowed, still facing forwards so her  voice was essentially quietened. Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing  with her mouth. She could talk loudly and failed to keep a secret.

My journey continued through the parking lot. My car was one of the  closest to the sports ones. But I had to wait for Abigail, too. Normally  she got a lift from her friend back home who had recently passed her  test but she was absent today which left me to carpool, basically. I  leaned against my car, subsequent to stuffing my bag and portfolio into  the boot, when the group of very attractive guys realised the human  positivity to them.

"Shouldn't you be on your way home?" one of them shouted.

I turned my head to them just as Jason turned his gaze to me. His face  hardened and he muttered something to the rest of the guys he was  huddled with. Some were snickering until his cue and they silenced. Now  they were all gawking at me with wide eyes – or more like gaping. Jason stepped his way to me and gazed at the beauty deemed my Aston Martin.

"How's she handling?" he asked.

"Better," I replied stiffly. "Any reason to why you and your band of merry followers are loitering in my school parking lot?"

Jason slowly diverted his attention to me. His hardened expression was  maintained. His eyes met mine. Now they were dark. Yet they were still  enough to make any female's knees morph into jelly and swoon; or try to  swank in front of him, too. But that wasn't something I wanted to  subject myself to. I wish Abigail would hasten, I mused. The tension was  thickening palpably.

"Jackson and his minions were in our home. They're playing their games now and  you're still involved, Isabella." He spoke in his recurrent gruff tone.  It always ended up making an appearance in some sort of discussion, I  perceived.

"I haven't received another note though," I said. "They've left me alone, Jason. It's you he's after. He's still waiting for his money, isn't he?"

"I'm getting there with that-"

"Jason, we need to leave," someone piped up from behind him. He was transfixed upon his phone. "The cops are on their way."

Jason clenched his jaw and oh, Lord have mercy on me, please.  "Keep your head down, Isabella and don't talk to strangers because you  may never know who they're working for. Remember what I said last time-"

"Jason!"

They were getting in their cars now.

"If you get another note, call the cops. They'll understand everything, alright? But-"

"Get in the Goddamn car, Jason!" an older one bellowed, cheeks flaming scarlet.

"Don't  bring me into anything that the cops would take an interest in, okay?  Because if you do, Isabella, I swear to God I'll bring you down with me  somehow."