"Why?" I dared to ask.
"Because," Sofia answered, "There's bigger forces at work here. Ones you shouldn't get caught up with. It's not worth it."
Her words were like a gunshot to my mind. It wasn't worth it to escape the Isles? Didn't she know what my father is like?
An angry, scratchy voice hollered from my house, "Bella!" A crash followed, like porcelain shattering.
Even as I attempted to school my expression, blood still drained from my face.
Ralph sighed, "Speak of the damn Devil."
Sofia took that as her cue to leave. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, right, Bells?" Sofia had the unique ability to attack with her eyes. The Jaguar of the Isles was truly a force to be reckoned with.
But I kept my mouth shut, and she just left. We were at a stalemate, but I wasn't a liar.
I was itching to get back to the house, as if it would lessen my punishment. But Ralph put a calloused hand on my shoulder before he left. He bent down to my height and whispered low enough that others couldn't hear, "If anyone does so much as anything to you, just know that me and Sofia would do nothing less than destroy them."
I could tell by the murderous glint in his eyes that there was truth in his words. I nodded, and once he believed I understood, he left as well.
I sprinted back to the house, debating if I should just leave altogether. But my father treated me so fondly sometimes. I prayed that this would be one of those times.
"Bella!" He screamed, and I winced. Anger scrawled over his lumpy features as he stalked toward me. Features that loosely mirrored my own.
"You stupid child!" He reeked of rum and chucked a glass bottle at me.
I swiftly avoided it, feeling nothing but sharp fear, "I am sorry, Father. I will not do it again."
He snarled and lowered his voice. That was worse. "Do you know what you did?"
I swallowed, "Yes, Father."
"Tell me."
"Dinner was not ready for your arrival."
"No. Thats wrong."
I hesitated, and I knew it would cost me, "There's not enough money for the heat bill."
"No."
"The drink is gone?" panic and dread filled my veins. I hated this game.
"No. It's–" Ring, ring, ring. He paused and took a breath, "I–" Ring, Ring, Ring. "This Goddam–" Ring, Ring, Ring. "THIS GO–" Ring, Ring, Ring.
He violently stomped up the dark stairs to the office and relief enveloped me. Bits of the conversation seeped through the wooden slats as he talked.
"I called before? It must have been Lillian. Yes. Well I am more than happy to send her off. Oh, and remind me when the money will be.." The conversation dragged on as I made dinner, feigning ignorance.
He came down the creaky stairs later, cooled off from his earlier rage. He thumped down in his chair. "Get packed."
He offered no other context. I blinked and sauntered upstairs, thankful that I knew what was happening. "Faster!" He yelled.
___________
Authors Note:
Why do you think the father is so mean?
Also, Part = Chapter
YOU ARE READING
An Assassins Escape
Történelmi fikcióIm pretty much fucked. I'm a lot of things, but now I can confidently say that I'm stupid as well. But would I do it again? Yes, yes I would. If it got me off these horrible Isles, I would do pretty much anything. ________________________________...
