Page 4 of Our Darling Isabelle

“I can’t, Aden. My mom got into some trouble again last night, so I have a lot to do today.” I say, softly. He sighs into the phone.

“Okay I get it, you sure you can handle this on your own?” he asks, tension obvious in his tone.

“I’m sure, it’s not a big deal. I’ll call you later.” The lie rolls easily off my tongue and guilt surfaces. He says a quick goodbye before hanging up. As quickly as I can, I grab the packing tape and a stack of boxes, but I almost drop them when I glimpse black curls from the corner of my eye. Nearly running to get to the register, the cashier is a young woman who gives me a curious look but doesn’t ask questions. Even if she did, I wouldn’t have noticed. I’m looking over my shoulder almost constantly, feeling like he’s here somewhere, watching me.

The drive home feels the same, as if the man from last night is everywhere watching me. All of this because of my mother blowing every penny she can get her hands on, not giving a shit that it wasn’t hers to spend. As soon as I find a new place to live, I’m changing my number and never speaking to her again. Making a split second decision, I took a sharp turn away from my apartment to speak to my boss at the Bar of Burden, an ironic name considering everything.

As soon as I walk in, I regret it. My boss locks eyes with me and gives a predatory grin that makes me want to turn and leave. Ever since I started here, he has had an issue with keeping his hands and thoughts to himself. Every girl here puts up with it, because the tips are decent. Aden has offered countless times to put him in his place, but I need this job. Well, needed it.

“There you are. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He winks at me, and I fight the urge to gag. It’s early but there is still a growing crowd making it hard to have a conversation.

“Can we talk in the back for a second?” I ask. He nods and waves for me to follow him. We step behind the bar and back into the break room, and he motions for me to sit beside him.

“Oh no, thank you. This has to be quick. I was actually wondering how soon you could get me a transfer.” I cross my arms, and he finally stops staring at my boobs long enough to give me an angry look.

“What? You’re one of the best girls here. That body brings a lot of hungry men with the way you throw it around! Why would I let you transfer?” He throws his hands up. I take a deep breath to resist puking on his obnoxiously shiny black shoes.

“I’m moving, Dan. There’s a Bar of Burden in Davenport and I was hoping you could get me a transfer there.” Keeping my voice level is proving to be a struggle when all I want to do is scream. He shakes his head at me and stands up, walking close.

“You don’t really want to do that, and I can help you. Maybe I can throw you a ten-cent raise?” He puts his hand on my shoulder and I sidestep him.

“I just need you to transfer me, please.” I grind out, reaching behind myself until I could touch the doorknob. He rubs a hand through his thinning hair in frustration and steps closer.

“You are an ungrateful bitch, you know that? All those shifts I threw you, like a dog looking for scraps. Couldn’t even transfer you if I wanted to, that one’s under different owners. I doubt they’d want you, anyway.” He says, his sour breath brushing down my face. I finally lose it, shoving him off me and running out the door. He chases after me, shouting obscenities at me as I go.

“I quit, Dan!” I shout, holding my middle fingers in the air and shoving my way out the door to jump in my car. I slap the lock and drop my face into my hands as I let the emotions wash over me. Everything keeps going wrong and I’ve learned that life isn’t fair time and time again, but this was just getting ridiculous. After I pull myself together, I start the car and head home while holding my hand out the window to enjoy the fresh air of late spring. Freedom is something I’ve always craved and this might be a step towards that, I realize.

When I open the front door and stuff my keys in my pocket, I shiver against the frigid temperature in the apartment. The air outside has a chill to it, but there’s no reason it should be this cold inside. A dark figure moving catches my attention from the corner of my eye and I swing around wielding the tape roll like a weapon. I let out a frustrated breath when I see the curtain in the living room flapping from the wind blowing through the open window. With my hand on the top of the window, my body stills, ready to slam it shut, when panic floods my senses. No windows were open earlier before I left.

As quietly as I can, I walk into the kitchen and slip a knife from the block on the counter. With my heart thundering in my chest, I tiptoe down the hallway. Starting with my room, I count back from ten before I drop to check under the bed. Nothing except my safe. I always leave my closet door open, and the only thing in there are a few hanging jackets.

Across the hall is the bathroom. Turning on the light, it’s obviously empty, with the plastic curtain pushed wide open. Begrudgingly, I slip down to my mother’s room, wiping my shaking sweat covered palms on my pants before adjusting my grip on the knife. Painfully slow, I twist the knob and push the door open, flipping on the light as soon as I can reach in. Her room is a wreck, dirty clothes and bottles cover the floor. The stench of old beer and soured food hits me, and I gag before I can get my shirt over my nose.

Her closet is just a mountain of shoes and clothes with random trash scattered. Her bed also doesn’t sit up on a frame, so nothing is hiding under there. I drop my arm that’s holding the knife with an annoyed sigh. Now that my panic has slowed, my mother coming back for some of her junk and leaving the window open is the most likely explanation. Of course, the logical side of my brain stopped working the moment I locked eyes with Mr. terrifying and delicious.

“You shouldn’t even be thinking of him like that.” I groan to myself as I stomp back to the kitchen. Slamming the knife down on the counter, I jerk the fridge open and grab a bottle of creamer, turning to grab my coffee pot. Packing sucks and it is going to be a long night.

“I wonder how fast I can get an apartment, or will I be paying out the ass for a hotel?” I groan at how much planning I still have left with no time to do it.

Chapter 5—Markus

Cracking my neck from side to side, I stand up and tower over the pathetic excuse for a man that is cowering at my feet. Jared and another one of our employees, Kurt, are standing beside the door of the break room, looking bored. Taking a long pull off my cigarette, I flick the ashes over him and he cringes away. I squat down, sitting on my heels and flashing a sadistic grin.

“Don’t worry, bud. Think of this as a friendly business meeting.” I say, offering him a hand to help him stand. When we walked in, Kurt swung immediately and caught him in the gut. Kurt isn’t a big man, but he is lean and mean. Poor fool hasn’t tried to get up since then. He takes my hand and I help him up, then shove him into a chair.

“Now, Dan, was it?” I ask. He nods quickly, but still won’t meet my eyes.

“Look, I can get you whatever it is you want. You want girls? Take your pick of them out there. Money? I got money.” He stammers out, nearly crying. I laugh and shake my head, slowly circling him while taking another drag of my cigarette.

“Oh, that’s the thing, Dan. My brother and I technically own this bar. You don’t recognize me?” I stop in front of him and tilt my head with my lip jutted out in a fake pout when he shakes his.

“Markus, I got fifty that says he cries. Full on waterworks.” Jared chuckles.

“I’ll take that. Fifty says he pisses himself.” Kurt shakes Jared’s hand and twists his long hair back into a ponytail, sensing what is coming. Dan looks between us all in confusion until I jam the burning end of my cigarette into his neck. He yells and tries to slap my hand away, but the damage is done. He whimpers while covering the wound with his hand. I flick the butt at him and say, “Markus Barone.” His eyes go wide, and he jumps up, trying to run. Why do they always try to run when there’s obviously no chance to escape?

I swing my arm out, slamming into his throat and dropping him onto his back. Dan’s head bounces off the floor and he prays softly. He clutches the back of his head with his eyes clenched shut until I speak.

“Isabelle Thorn came to you today. She came in here and asked you for a transfer, but it looked like you tried to give her more than that.” I snarl at him.

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