Stolen to be His Princess

Chapter 23: Safety?

Isabella

Tightening my hold on my bag, I quietly make my way through the dark and isolated park hoping to reach a busy street where it would be easier to blend in. I need to hurry. God knows if James is awake or not. I hope I miraculously killed him. If he wakes up he would tear this island apart just to find me. He has made sure I was aware of that. But it wasn't just James that was on this island. He had instructed numerous guards on Bora Bora as bodyguards. But I knew he had brought them along in case I'd try and pull a stunt. Guess they'll be needed now.

Turning a corner I stumbled onto a busy street bumbling with market stalls, crowds and loud music. It was beautiful. I'd always wanted to go on a holiday to Bora Bora and explore it's natural beauties. Letting out a deep sigh I look out at the crowds and see excited tourists taking pictures and dancing. I wish I could be here under different circumstances.

I hurridely pushed my way through the crowds saying sorry every time I pushed a person. I needed to find a cash point as soon as possible.

After battling some street sellers, knocking over 2 waiter's trays balancing expensive looking drinks and rejecting a man's offer for a dance, I finally made it out of the crowd and to the other side where it was still busy, but not as chaotic as the other side.

My eyes frantically scan my surroundings in desperation, but I instantly calm as I see a cash point straight ahead of me. Regaining my composure I slowly made my way to the cash point hoping not to gain anymore attention from passerbys.

Opening up my bag I pull out his wallet and open it up finding a selection of debit and credit cards. Picking up the first one I could see, I enter it into the machine tapping my foot nervously as I catch people's glimpses at me from the corner of my eyes.

"Damn it" I lowly growl. I can't believe I forgot that I would need a password.

You're such an idiot.

Ejecting the card out of the machine I slip it back into my purse and zip my bag back up.

Come on think Isabella. What would Liam Neeson do?

Walking away from the machine I slowly approach a kind looking elderly woman and awkwardly wave at her hoping she would be able to understand some english.

"Hello, um do you speak English" I ask worried I'd made a complete fool out of myself.

"Hello, and yes sweetheart I speak English. How can I help?".

Praise Jesus hallelujah.

"Can you please direct me to the police station?"

"Of course just keep going straight on this street, it's about 5 minutes away from here and it'll be on the left side of the road". The kind lady gestures with her arm the direction I needed to go.

"Thank you very much". I give a curt nod in appreciation and a nervous smile. I could tell she was curious to find out more, but I'd already turned away from her and made a dash to the police station.

Stumbling along the long winding road I kept my eyes open eager to find my safety net. I knew I'd be safe once I'd gotten to the police station. He wouldn't be able to touch me once I was in police custody.

"Finally". I let out a shaky breath and my once tense muscles begin to relax. I'd finally made it. Entering into the police station I ran to the desk and placed my bag down by my side and rung the bell on the desk, pressing it 3 or 4 times with urgency.

"Hello Ma'am, how can I help?" my saviour's voice softly soothes my tired soul.

"Hi, my name is Isabella Martins and I've been kidnapped. Please you've got to help me".