Page 45 of The Den of Sin
It had been two months since that Halloween night. Two fucking months and I couldn’t get the girl out of my head. I was a forty-year-old man that couldn’t get a woman that just turned the legal drinking age of my fucking system.
The visiting hours would start in ten minutes, and I knew Isabella would be here on time. I had my men watch after her to ensure she was protected from the Santos family. Especially that psychopath Vincent. I got their report daily with her activities, so I knew how she spent each hour of her day.
It was mid-January but the temperatures in the Key Largo area were warm and even suitable for swimming. Palm trees were everywhere, even giving the hospital a happy vibe. The light breeze swept through, the smell of the ocean drifting over, and suddenly, I understood why Isabella was obsessed with surfing and the beach. There was a calming effect to the distant sound of the ocean and the smell of the salt carrying through the air.
A light blue Jeep zoomed past me and parked in one of the front, visitor’s parking spots. Isabella stepped out of it, wearing jean shorts combined with a white t-shirt and flip-flops, her dark hair up in a high ponytail. The urge to go to her and feel her body against mine was so strong that I had to grit my teeth and focus on the pain rather than the need for this woman. She looked pale and tired. Even from here, and through my sunglasses that hid my face, I could see dark shadows under her eyes.
A pang of guilt hit my chest, but I ignored it. It happened a lot over the last two months, and I learned to ignore it.
Grabbing a few bags from the back of the Jeep, she started walking through the small parking lot when a young kid her age came up to her from the opposite direction. He wrapped his arms around her into a tight hug and my hands balled into fists at seeing them like this.
“How are you?” He stepped back, watching her with concern. There was nothing more I wanted to do than go over there and punch his young face. And then level him with the sidewalk.
Isabella Taylor would be the death of me; nobody had ever brought this shit up in me before. I had never wanted to beat someone up because of jealousy.
Thankfully, the young punk wasn’t holding her anymore. They stood fairly close and their voices carried over to me.
“Good. You?”
“Bella, you’re not good. You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks,” her voice was sarcastic. “Who taught you to hand out compliments? You shouldn’t recommend them.”
My lip quirked at her comeback. “How are your mom and dad? I’ve been meaning to swing by and say hi.”
“They’d love to see you. You know you are their favorite.”
Her lips curved into a smile, but it was tired and sad.
“You tell that to all the girls, don’t you?”
“No, just you.” He brushed her cheek with his hand and my vision blurred with red fog. This jealousy wasn’t right, and sure as hell wasn’t healthy. Rage simmered through my veins. I wanted to pull out my gun and fill him with lead for touching what was mine.
Shit, what is this woman doing to me?
“Awww. Tell them I’ll come by. Maybe tomorrow night. I haven’t been feeling that great.”
“You’re not getting sick, are you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Has your mother told you stuff about Santos?” My body tensed, and I slightly shifted forward. Were they talking about the Santos family?
Isabella shrugged her shoulder. “Not much. Honestly, I don’t really want to know any of it. I was better off not knowing. It is like digging up skeletons, nothing good comes out of that.” I wondered if she was talking about the history between her mother and Nikolaev family or was there something else. “Besides, she gets so upset and it’s not good for her. I want to make her comfortable, not relive her nightmare.”
“She is lucky to have you.”
“Anyhow, I better go. I want to be there when she wakes up.” She went to turn and walk away from him but his fingers wrapped around her upper arm.
“Come for dinner tonight?” Isabella was already shaking her head. He softly added. “Please,cara.” My jaw clenched at his endearment. I was being irrational, I knew it. Obviously, they were childhood friends, and she hadn’t slept with him. I took her virginity, but I still hated seeing someone else touch her. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“I’ll message you later,” Isabella told him. She wouldn’t message him later. In the past three years, I had come to know Isabella’s little telltales. She only did what she wanted to, and when pressured for something that didn’t appeal to her, she’d leave her response open ended. It was one of the reasons I knew her and Tatiana got into trouble on campus together, willingly. My sister was pretty much the same way.
An hour later, I stood over the hospital bed of Isabella’s mother. The nurses always made Bella take a twenty-minute break at this time.
Marietta Taylor looked frail lying in the large hospital. She was dying, the cancer they found incurable. Her labored breathing was the only sound breaking the silence. I had hated this woman for almost thirty years for causing disarray in my family and my mother’s death. And now here she was. Frail and pathetic.
Even sickly like this, you could see the remains of the beautiful woman she was. If she was anything like Isabella in her younger days, I could understand my father falling for her. She was younger than my mother and there was an allure about her. The same that Isabella carried around her.
