Chase, page 15
“Oh, my God, Isobel!” Mother slaps her hand to her face while Theo looks up to the ceiling with embarrassment. He squeezes my hand to the point of pinching, but I just smirk, enjoying the look on my sister’s face. “Isobel, show some respect, will you?”
Having been told this on many occasions, and over many years, I just shrug and continue to stare into my wine glass, knowing I mustn’t drink anymore if I want to stick to my rule. And with Ethan here, you can be damn sure I’ll be sticking to my rule.
“But you’re cousins,” Dad pipes up, “what will people say?”
“What a beautiful incestuous couple they make?” I offer, earning me a scowl from the man who has barely held a conversation with me…ever.
“Well, for starters, we’re not blood-related,” Theo states in an irritated tone, “and secondly, I don’t really care what other people say about us.”
“No,” Ethan finally says, sounding authoritative. “You’re not doing this. Blood-related or not, this will not go down well for the company. Many of our clients are very conservative. It can’t happen.”
“I think you are mistaken, Ethan,” Theo says, turning on him, “I’m not asking for permission here. I’m marrying Izzy whether any of you like it or not.”
Before I know what’s happening, Theo has downed his glass and is stomping out the door, leaving an extremely uncomfortable silence in his wake.
“Shall we eat?” I ask, grinning as I do so. “The quicker we eat, the quicker all of you can go and hash this out behind our backs and I can have my wicked incestuous affair with Theo. Nonna, you’re the exception in that sentence.”
Nonna, who I would argue is a little squiffy already, smiles and raises her glass in my direction. I return the gesture and give her a cheeky wink. My father tuts at the both of us before getting out of his chair and sulking off into the dining room.
_____
Izzy
Dinner is quiet at first, though my brother enjoys shooting us with the odd evil glare every now and then. However, halfway through the main course, Tilly launches into a long-winded memoir of her recent holiday with Gary. Lots of name-dropping, money-dropping, and a whole load of waffle which I don’t even bother to pretend to listen to. I’m sure I yawned all the way through her rambling, not that I could tell you for definite because I think I semi passed out through sheer boredom.
It isn’t until dessert that her monologue is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Theo gets to his feet, still reeling from my family’s reaction to our fake engagement. I think he’s exaggerating, given the circumstances, as well as deluded if he believed it would go any differently, but I choose to say nothing. Moments later, we all hear the sound of his parents entering the house with warm, genuine greetings for their son. Theo mentions something about getting their plates served before they tip-tap across the floor and into the dining room. I look up to see his slightly older-looking parents walk in, full of smiles and friendly words for everyone. It’s the first time I notice Dad smiling as he gets up to embrace his brother. He slaps Wyatt on the back, to which he nervously laughs and moves toward an empty chair as soon as possible. Typical Dad, trying so hard to impress everyone but me.
“There she is,” Frankie says, looking at me strangely, almost tearfully. I remember her always being kind to me, trying to form a motherly relationship because my own was so indifferent toward me. But she still left and forgot about me, just as her son did. “I’ve missed you, young lady.”
“Hi,” I reply awkwardly, “please, sit down, your dinner will get cold.”
She pinches my chin and continues to study me. It feels as if she’s seeing right through me; she can see beyond the mask. I shake her off and turn away, but I can still feel her frown on the back of my head. I don’t dare face them again until I hear the sound of her chair scraping back along the floor. Uncle Wyatt is kind to me, as usual, but it’s more like when a stranger holds the door open for you. I am sure he would be the same with anyone.
“So, what have we missed?” Wyatt asks the table while laying a napkin across his lap.
“Your son has taken leave of his senses and asked Isobel to marry him,” Tilly laughs before she gulps the last remnants of her wineglass.
Even I’m surprised by her announcing this to someone’s parents before the person in question can say it first. The bitch has outdone herself this time. Not that she has any clue about it, not even when Theo drops his fork onto his plate with a clatter.
“What?” Frankie clasps her hands over her mouth but not before revealing a huge grin across her face. His father looks momentarily stunned but then leans over to shake Theo’s hand with words of congratulations on his lips.
“Oh, Theo, Izzy, I’m so pleased for you both; I always knew you two were meant for each other!”
A pang of guilt bubbles deep inside of me and I can tell from Theo’s expression that he’s thinking the exact same thing. I couldn’t care less about lying to my family, but his parents genuinely love him. It must hit hard.
“Thank you, Mom,” he says when she comes to hug us both. “Though, I would have liked to have told you myself.”
He glares at Tilly, but she’s already moved on and is pouring another glass of wine for herself. Gary, on the other hand, looks beyond embarrassed.
“You’re happy about this?” Dad says to his brother, looking completely unconvinced by the joy and jubilation being cast out by his own flesh and blood. “Wyatt, they’re cousins, how will this look to everyone?”
“They’re not blood-related cousins,” Frankie argues before her husband can even open his mouth to speak. “Besides, who cares what other people think?”
“Relax, big brother,” Wyatt says before shoveling food into his mouth, “no one worries about appearances anymore. Apart from you, Craig. When are you going to learn that you can’t control everything?”
Word has it that Dad and my grandfather didn’t exactly approve of Wyatt’s choice of wife, being that she was American. When it came out that she was unable to bear a child of her own, my grandfather told him he should leave her and start again. Wyatt obviously stayed with Frankie despite the family’s fallout. In my estimation, this makes Uncle Wyatt considerably more respectable than my father.
“Are you coming?” Theo asks, holding out his hand and snapping me out of my reverie.
I look around and suddenly realize I have gotten lost inside of my own head for a while. Everyone is making a move to retire into the living room, and Theo was the only one who stayed behind for me. Figures.
“Where on earth were you?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Oh, er, Izzy world, I guess,” I reply with a shrug. I then make a move to grab his hand before remembering myself and pulling it back again. “Actually, I’m just going to go and get some fresh air.”
I signal to the front door before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. It shocks him at first, and he begins to smile. That is until he notices the audience behind us. When he turns back to face me, he looks almost disappointed. Doesn’t he realize it yet? Everything about me is fake, especially in front of my family.
“Ok,” he says quietly, “don’t be long.”
Before I can make it to the door, his hand pulls me back, right up close so he barely even needs to move when he kisses me. Kisses me chastely but meaningfully on my lips so I am in no doubt as to how real this kiss is.
“That, Izzy,” he whispers inside my ear so no one else can hear, “that was for you. When it comes to me, Twiglet, everything is for you.”
Chapter 15
Izzy
As soon as I’m outside, I run. I run like I’m trying to escape monsters. I’ve been running ever since Theo left me behind, but now that he’s here, I’m still running. The monsters have changed, mutated into things that live inside my head so I can never escape them. I can only subdue them, and even then, the only way I can achieve that is to stop myself from feeling anything.
The thing that stops me in my tracks is the sheer lack of breath that has me bending over double from the lactic acid now attacking my muscles. I’ve not been this far from the house, where the forest lines the perimeter of the extensive grounds, and the fir trees grow tall and bushy. Beauty in the face of all my ugly emotions. However, seeing as someone was kind enough to leave a bench on which I can privately break down, I decide to collapse in a heap and allow myself to cry. Except the tears don’t come; perhaps they have finally run dry.
“Izzy?” a small, female voice says from behind my huddled body, making me jump out of my skin. “Oh, Jesus, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to catch you alone.”
Frankie looks worried, so takes a seat next to me where she clasps her hands over mine. The moment her fingers touch my skin, however, I flinch. She sees it, as well as the goosebumps that are taking over my flesh on a perfectly warm day.
“That bad, huh?” she whispers.
My eyes finally fill with the tears that I had expected moments ago; she can see right through me, to the real me. I look away, suddenly unable to handle her eyes on mine. But she’s not going to let me get away with it that easily, because she takes me inside of her arms and holds me tight. My eyes close of their own volition, if only to release the tears that are now filling them. It all feels too much – Theo, seeing Ethan again, Frankie’s arms and soothing voice – so I dig my nails into my palms to the point of breaking the skin.
“You can stop doing that, Izzy,” she says, lifting my hand to reveal the crimson blood now seeping out of my self-inflicted wound.
“Please don’t be nice to me, Frankie,” I whisper my plea. “I’ve worked hard to resist my emotions, to push them away, but when you and your son are nice to me, it makes it a hell of a lot harder to do.”
“My son loves you, even if this whole engagement is a farce concocted by a desperate old woman,” she says, rummaging around her bag, all the while I look back at her in shock.
“How do you know?”
“Because I helped your grandmother come up with it,” she replies, smiling as she does so, complete with a tissue ready in her hand to pass to me. “As for Theo, well, he needs you just as much you need him.”
“I don’t need anyone,” I argue stubbornly. “And Theo doesn’t need me. I’m more likely to be the last person he needs.”
“Don’t lie to me, Izzy,” she scolds, soft as she sounds, she’s still calling me out on my usual bullshit. “I know you’re battling something deep inside of you, but I also know that when you’re ready to let it out, he will be there for you. As will I.”
“Please don’t be nice to me,” I finally sob, sounding loud and unable to control it. “Please…”
She moves so she is now crouching on the ground in front of me, smiling gently and removing some of my tears with the pads of her thumbs.
“There she is,” she says with a strange look on her face. “I remember those eyes, Izzy. Bright and always in search of more.”
“Everything ok?” Theo’s low, gentle voice calls out to both of us. Frankie doesn’t take her eyes off me, but I jerk my head up if only to try and block out the feelings swirling around inside of my head.
“Fine,” I lie, smiling as I make to stand so I can step away from my aunt. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom so I’ll see you in there.”
Before he can answer me, I walk away and back to the house with racing strides. I burst through the front door and head straight for my room. I used to think my room was my safe space, away from my family, but even that was stolen away from me. When Theo left, there was nowhere to hide anymore.
This room isn’t even mine, it’s fake, like me, but at least untainted. I walk frantically inside of it, running everything that ails me through my mind. I pace around and around in circles until I feel dizzy and have to sit down on the bed. Only then do I calm myself enough to look out the window to where Frankie and Theo are talking, both sitting on the bench, both looking grave.
I try to imagine what they’re saying about me; are they second-guessing themselves to stick with me? Are they trying to imagine what happened when they left me behind? Or do they simply pity the girl who refuses to show her true self?
The sound of someone clapping from behind me breaks my gaze and I instantly turn my head to see who it is. My blood runs cold, freezing. The moment I take him in, it feels as if all the breath in my body has escaped to allow his poison to seep in…all over again.
“Well, well, well, you’ve managed to upstage yourself again, you little idiot,” my brother says in his usual bitter tone of voice. It sends shivers down my spine, but instead of cowering, I remember who I’ve built myself up to be. I square my shoulders and get to my feet so I can at least face him on more of an even footing, despite our height difference. I must not show fear. “Don’t bank on this lasting, Isobel.”
“Jealous, are we?” I smirk with fake confidence as I shove past him.
“Of a little whore like you? Don’t make me laugh, Isobel.”
He catches my wrist before I can clear his area of reach and leans in to whisper in my ear. His breath is hot with the smell of liquor, just like it used to be, which makes me want to vomit.
“What will lover boy think when he hears what a disgusting little slut you’ve been?”
“Perhaps you should look up the definition of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, Ethan,” I tell him with conviction, “you might find you need to brush up on your vocabulary seeing as I’m neither of those things.”
At my rebuttal, he grabs me by the throat and pushes me up against the wall with one of his meaty hands. Unable to hide it any longer, I freeze in complete fear. He smiles with self-satisfaction over my reaction before looking down at my chest, which is now heaving in and out, struggling to get enough air with which to breathe. He sucks a breath in through his teeth before grinning like he so often has in my nightmares.
“Stop…looking…at…me…like…that,” I gasp between breaths, but he just laughs.
“You disgust me, Isobel,” he says with a sneer on his face, one that is ugly and threatening.
With his spare hand, he grips hold of my hair and wraps it around his wrist, pulling at my scalp so I wince with pain. He then covers my mouth with the hand that was holding my neck, allowing me to gasp for air. No sooner have I done so does he slam my head against the wall, stifling my cries the moment they come out into the open. He repeats this action two more times before the room around me begins to blur. I feel my eyes rolling back as unconsciousness threatens to take over, but I will not lose control with him here, I will not let myself become vulnerable around him. I know how dangerous he is, and I cannot let go of my senses, not yet. I fight the darkness as hard as I can, even though it would feel so good to just slip under the blanket of sleep.
Eventually, he releases me, and I fall to the floor in a heap of coughing and retching. The objects and furniture are still a blur; I cannot even see Ethan anymore. I get to my hands and knees and begin crawling in the direction of a long column of light, where I know the bathroom is. Once there, I lie flat against the cold, tiled floor until my normal vision returns. My bedroom door is slammed shut, signaling Ethan’s welcome departure, so I grasp hold of the shower tap and turn it to the coldest setting there is. I then crouch under the icy temperature of the water, shocking my system so I can wake from the darkness. After a while, it serves another purpose; a need to numb my body and my mind, so I close my eyes and let it consume me.
_____
Theo
Be patient.
Mom had said those words to me not ten minutes ago, but even now I’m trying to stop myself from running up to Izzy and demanding that she tell me what the hell happened to her. I want to help, I want to make whatever it is better, and I want to do it now. She’ll tell you when she’s ready, felt like a kick in the gut, even if I do understand that helping Iz means waiting for her to open up when she feels safe enough. Which is why I’m currently repeating Be patient inside of my head like a kid getting ready to take an exam.
I’m focusing so hard on those words that I almost miss the sight of Ethan walking down the stairs, looking punchable as always. However, when my head finally makes sense of his having been upstairs, I immediately decide to go and check out what the creepy bastard’s been up to. At first, I decide to head for my office, assuming he’s been rummaging around for something. However, something unnerving tells me to head to Izzy’s room.
Cautiously, I walk toward where I see light seeping through the gap beneath her door. When I step inside, I find what looks like the crime scene of a robbery. Furniture has been overturned, and personal items are scattered across the floor, but it’s the sound of the shower running at full pelt that has me rushing to the bathroom. I find Izzy, fully clothed, crouching beneath the shower head, her skin mottled with a bluish tint, her limbs shivering, and her eyes staring into nothing. I put my hand under the water and curse; it’s freezing!
“Izzy,” I shout as though she’s passed out, which in a way she is, for she remains slumped at the bottom of the shower tray. It’s not until I turn off the tap that she comes to again, gasping and shaking even more vigorously. My instincts have me trying to wrap my arms around her, but it only causes her to start thrashing around and trying to fight me away.
“No, no…don’t touch me!” she cries as I desperately try to grab at her wrists so I can show her I’m safe, a friend. However, she only ends up screaming.
“Izzy, please, it’s me!”
I try and still her and make her look at me, but it takes some time for her to see I’m not whoever she thinks I am; that I’m not going to hurt her. When she finally looks into my eyes with realization, she shudders, then turns away in embarrassment. I lift her carefully out of the shower, noticing how much she’s shivering. Without words, I place her on the bed and strip down to my bare skin, wearing nothing but my boxers, and then huddle under the covers next to her so I can hold her close to me. I then rub her arms and her legs to cause a heated friction between me and her mottled skin.
