Hammer & Anvil (Steel Rebels MC #2) [Ongoing]

EIGHT - Spaghetti Carbonara

Isabella

"Hello."

The serious voice of Roman's best friend greeted Isabella after the line had rung twice.

"Hi Anton. It's Isabella," she said nervously as she stared out of the window in her room.

For some reason using the mobile that her mother had just given her seemed wrong. It made her feel like she was getting even more caged in by her parents.

More monitoring. More control over her.

"Sorry that my phone was off earlier."

Anton knew that her previous phone had been lost and she hoped that he would be smart enough not to ask any questions right now.

"No problem," he replied but he sounded very clipped.

Isabella tried to not read anything into it, but she didn't know Anton well enough to understand if this tone meant that he was upset.

Maybe he was just having a bad day.

Maybe that was how he usually spoke on the phone.

"You tried to call about us practicing together," she continued and started pacing in her room, unable to contain her nervousness.

Anxiety was rising inside of her.

"Yes."

Again he was short with his answer.

"Is this a bad time? We can also talk later."

It occurred to Isabella that Anton was probably still at work. It was only early afternoon. Maybe she had disturbed something important.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted you. I didn't mean to."

Anton exhaled loudly.
"It's fine, don't worry."

His voice had lost some of its sternness.

"I'll have a long day but can you be at my parents' place tonight at seven? We can have dinner there and they want to talk to you. I also haven't had time to arrange a piano to be set up at my place. We can use the one that's in my parents' living room for now. Would that work for you?"

Isabella had stopped walking back and forth. She didn't know if she was ready to face Anton's parents. Had he explained them the situation? Or had he kept her secrets? Would they be hostile towards her? Would they blame her for Benjamin's death?

"Isa?"

The use of the nickname ripped her from her spiraling thoughts. Only Roman had called her Isa before.

"Yes?"

"Are you coming tonight?" Anton asked, sounding a lot friendlier than before, like he knew that she had started to worry.

"Umm, okay, yes." She stumbled over her answer. "Should I bring something?"

"No, it's fine. Just be there."

After hanging up Isabella rushed out of her room. She had to at least organize flowers for Mrs. Sturbinger if she went for dinner. That was the minimum that was expected, even if she wasn't asked to bring anything. And then she would need to select her outfit for the evening. She couldn't just show up in jeans and shirt like she had planned if she had visited Anton. This was suddenly becoming even more stressful than she had hoped it to be.

***

At seven on the dot Isabella rang the door bell of the Sturbinger residence. It was a modest sized, modern villa on a large property that gave a lot of privacy. Behind her the security guard that had driven her here slowly pulled out of the yard. She guessed that he would park somewhere close by, as she was to call him when she was ready to head back home. With her heart beating in her throat, Isabella pulled on the sleeves of her dress. She had had to change ten minutes before leaving the house because the other dress hadn't covered the bruise that was forming on her upper arm.