I don’t, however, rejoice just yet though because Sacha has stopped moving. He’s not moving at all and he’s not making a sound.
My heart squeezes and I rush closer to the screen pressing my hands on the surface like I can go through it.
Everything inside me stills when I see blood dripping from his nose on to his lap.
Everything else fades when he doesn’t move and all I can think of is the obvious. He’s dead.
Sorrow closes my throat, and constricts my lungs, and I can’t breathe.
I back away, not knowing where I’m going and then I run not knowing where to go.
I head to the front door I saw on the way down as tears pour from my eyes and I run outside.
I run into the rain as it falls from the sky and joins with my tears. I run until I see sand and then I trip over something and fall into the mud.
I don’t notice the heavy thud of footsteps behind me until I’m on the ground then I see Tristan running up toward me.
Realizing I must be in trouble because I ran outside, I try to back away from him but keep slipping in the mud.
He grabs me and pulls me toward him, but I try to fight.
“Let go of me, you monster, you killed him! You killed Sacha,” I shout. “I hate you. I hate you so much. Let go of me.”
The tears fall harder when he tightens his hold around my waist and I genuinely believe this is it for me. He’s going to kill me now.
Shock, however, suffuses me when he envelopes me with his arms, cocooning me within the walls of his chest to hold me.
“Sacha’s alive,” he says against my ear. Those words are the only thing that stop me from thrashing against him. “He’s alive, Isabella. I’m sorry.”
I lift my head to look at him as he cups my face and I search those eyes. That’s when I see him. The real him. The man from the park who showed me compassion.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats with more fervency, his tone calming my racing heart.
“I don’t know where my father is Tristan. You have to believe me. I don’t know where he is. If I did, I promise you that I would tell you.”
He rivets his gaze to mine and when he nods, hope sparks my heart.
“I believe you,” he replies.
Chapter Nineteen
Tristan
The sky is still dark from the storm.
It’s still raining, just not as heavily as it was earlier.
I’ve been sitting on the veranda outside my room for the last few hours watching the rain fall, thinking about my actions today. It’s almost night now and I feel no better than I did earlier when I assumed my post in this chair.
I’m not sure if it suffices to say I’m ashamed of myself. Shame doesn’t quite describe the way I feel.
I can be just as callous as the next mobster who has to do what he needs to, to get a job done, but there are no words for the way I’ve treated Isabella. It’s even worse when I think of the fact she’s a woman I have feelings for.
I can honestly say that both Alyssa and Pa would have been ashamed of me if they’d been here today and seen the way I behaved. I think both would have frowned upon me from the moment I had the idea to get Sacha to force Isabella to talk. I knew she was going to hate me, and I didn’t care. I knew there was a chance Sacha could die from the torture and I’d have to make her watch, but I didn’t care.
The fucking beast reared its ugly head in my soul and all I cared about was getting the information I needed. No matter what.
What the hell happened to me?
At what point did I truly lose my soul and go so far over the line of reason I lost my humanity too.
Shit can happen to you to seriously fuck you over, but there comes a point when you have to take stock of your inner desire to bring those to justice for the wrongs they’ve done you. It’s that point where you either allow revenge to consume you and you lose yourself, or you become the master of your passions.
That’s the difference between being a human seeking justice, or a mindless killer who’s lost his soul.
While I feel like I’m caught between both states of being, I