Hello everyone, this chapter is going to have alternating POV's so sorry about that. The bold will be POV switches
Elliot's POV
Sorry. I'm sorry. I won't bother you again.
Her words rang in my head as I punched the punching bag. My hands moving automatically at the rhythmic pace.
"Putain," I mumbled you myself. I always had to screw things up. She probably hates me.
My mind wandered to the events that took place 24 hours ago. I had to admit, Isla was one of the most clever and level headed people I'd ever met. The way she stayed calm and made use of that stick, it was impressive. It made me feel a sense of respect towards her. And when she used her hoodies drawstrings, even I would never think of that.
She was intelligent and resourceful. I glared at the punching bag that swung exaggeratedly bag and forth. Shaking my head, I moved to the bench press, my knuckles aching.
God help me fix this.
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Isla's POV
Who the fuck is calling me this early.
I groaned, blindly searching for my phone on the side table. I grabbed my phone, squinting into the bright screen.
6:07 am. Great.
"Hello?" I grumbled, closing my eyes.
"Bonjour Isla, c'est la mère d'Elliot." Hello Isla, it's Elliot's mother.
I sat up immediately, eyes widening.
"Oh désolé madame, bonjour." Oh sorry ma'am, hello.
"C'est pas grave, Luisa est à l'hôpital. J'ai essayé d'appeler Elliot mais il n'a pas décroché."No worries, Luisa is in the hospital. I tried calling Elliot but he didn't pick up.
"Oh, I can get him for you."
"Thank you dear, and Luisa would like you to come as well. No arguments, she will be upset."
"Of course, thank you."
I ended the call, quickly stumbling into the bathroom and freshening up. There was no way I would make it if I walked. I put on my black athletic leggings and black jacket, slipping my thumbs through the holes. My phone slid into the pocket of my leggings. Quickly writing a note, I ran out of the house.
Picking up the pace, I ran the quick 3 miles to the gym. Of course Elliot would be at the gym the morning after a fist fight. My Garmin flashed 17:36, not bad. I tugged the door open, scanning the room.
I felt the man at the entrance desk staring at me. When I turned to look at him, I realized he wasn't strong at me. He was staring at something on the back of me. I really regret wearing leggings now. I gave him the dirtiest glare I could muster. I spotted Elliot at the bench press, my stomach tightening at the sight of him.
His muscles were taught, his abs on full display as he pushed the bar up. I gulped, quickly making my way to him. His eyes widened when he saw me, nearly dropping the bar.
"You're sisters in labor," I informed, throwing his shirt at him. "What did I tell you about picking up your phone?"
His mouth dropped open, staring at me. I stared back expectantly.
"The fuck are you waiting for? A written invitation? Let's go," I said, walking towards the door.
"Hey, what's your number?" The guy at the entrance called, eliciting a growl from Elliot who was beside me. I gave him a look, unlocking the car.
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