Page 115 of Isabela

The world blurs before my eyes, making me gasp as I close them. God, I feel so damn dizzy right now.

“Isabela?” Madison asks sharply, worry in her voice.

“I’m fine,” I gasp. “I think it’s just stress. My stomach is really pissed off at me right now, and I feel dizzy.”

“Can I call Dr. Murphy, please?” she asks.

“He’s busy making sure transport goes well,” I mutter. Laying my head on the edge of the table, I gasp as I overbalance and land on the ground. Ouch. “Fuck me.”

“Nope, sorry Isabela, I’m calling Murphy,” one of the other hackers says. “Transport is handled, something isn’t right.”

The world continues to pitch and roll, and I groan as I turn my head. Madison has a wastebasket ready for me, though I’m too busy puking to be able to thank her.

“Isabela?” Gael roars as he walks into our headquarters.

“Living room,” several of the Society members yell out. The room is filled with computer equipment and tables, our own little hideaway from the world.

Shuddering, I dry heave as my stomach cramps and my heart pounds. What the fuck is happening?

Gael strides into the room, his face softening as soon as he sees me.

“Hey, Little One. What’s going on? You save a few lives, and then get sick? That’s not okay,” he teases. I can see the worry on his face as he grabs some tissues from a desk and wipes my face.

I’m a mess. Tossing the garbage, he assesses me. “I’m going to take you to the hospital, baby. Want to take a bucket with you?”

Gael carefully picks me up, but the movement gives me vertigo, making me whimper. Burying my head in his shoulder, I shake my head.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I moan. “I’m dizzy, nauseous, and feel like shit.”

“Okay, let’s work through this,” he says calmly as he walks out of the room. Someone opens the front door, but my stomach is pitching again, so I don’t look up. “Someone bring me a wastebasket, please. Can I get that person to also ride with me in case she gets sick?”

“I’ll go,” I hear Madison volunteer. Why not, she already held a trash can once. God, I feel like shit.

“I know you ate today,” Gael says calmly. “How bad was the stress of the auction?”

“Awful,” Madison mutters. “There were a few times I was nauseous, worried Isabela would be outbid. I think Susan had a soft spot for her.”

“Ugh, gross,” I groan.

Gael huffs out a chuckle, even though it’s not at all funny. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, Little One, but this was a win for us today. I just don’t think stress would do this. Didn’t you have a doctor’s appointment two weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I started new birth control. Ugh, could that be it? I will throw that shit away and never take another pill if it means I never feel like this again, Gael,” I complain.

When Gael stiffens, I peek up to look at him. “I don’t want you to feel this sick, but something else could happen if you’re not on it,” he grunts.

Madison doesn’t hear him as she opens the door to the truck, climbing in.

“What?” I rasp.

“You heard me, baby. Let’s get you fixed up before we continue this conversation,” he says softly, lifting me into the truck.

The ride to the hospital is terrible, and I puke twice more on the way over. Gael opens the windows, the warm, dry air helping to dissipate the sour scent of my being sick.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” I groan, laying my head back as I close my eyes.

“We’re almost there,” he says, turning carefully into the hospital. Glancing over, I notice it’s the same one he brought me to after the mayor’s kidnapping.

It appears he’s going to be extra cautious today. Parking, he comes around and opens my door, picking me up.

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