Isela's Love (19 page)

The young man took off like a rocket. Guarros turned back to Brendan, giving him a smug smile. “See there? Now you can stay and get something done.”

Brendan said nothing. Clenching his jaw, he moved over next to Pete and began helping him as Guarros sauntered away.

“Tough break,” Pete said.

“I have got to find a way to talk to her.” He glanced over to the guard Guarros had personally assigned to him. “It’ll be some trick with robo-prick eagle-eying me all afternoon.” He kicked a discarded container out of frustration.

Pete eyed him curiously. “You’re really into this chick, aren’t you?”

“I don’t even know how this happened. I don’t do this. I’m far too transient to fall for a woman.”

Pete laughed. “Transient? I got news for ya, bro. You’re a level two. You ain’t goin’ nowhere any time soon.”

Brendan shot Pete a nervous look. “Yeah, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Probably how to get your lady back.”

“Any ideas?”

“Not me, dude. Chicks are a complete mystery to me. You are on your own.”

****

Once the coast was clear, Isela crawled out from under the table. She stood up, took a deep breath, and with her head held high, she marched out of the kitchen toward the duty board, praying her assigned tasks would take her as far from Brendan as she could get.

She could feel his gaze upon her as she walked by, but she refused to return it, ignoring him when he called out to her. The pain in his voice stabbed at her, just for a moment. She remembered the letter and suddenly the pain piercing her heart was her own.

She breathed, relieved when she read her name next to the chore of weeding Center Court. Center Court was an area outside where the inmates and servants could gather at designated times, in small, supervised groups without fear of being attacked by monsters. The prison buildings blocked off the square area from the outside world of Midland.

Benches and makeshift tables lined the well-worn path on the outer perimeter. Some of the servants had planted flowers, so the beds needed to be maintained. Isela was grateful for the opportunity to be outside, not to mention away from Brendan.

Glancing around the yard, inhaling the fragrances of the different flowers melding together, she noticed a section near the west side that hadn’t been touched in a while. The weeds had overtaken the flowers. Apparently, nobody had wanted to take on that big of a job. Isela welcomed it. She could concentrate on her work without having to make small talk with anybody, which was fine because she doubted she’d be very good company for anyone right then.

She attacked the offending plants with enthusiasm, trying not to think about Brendan. Despite her best efforts, her mind drifted to thoughts of the woman mentioned in the letter, Maggie. The letter said she loved Brendan. She and the baby.
A baby
.

How could he have kept that from her? Isela wondered. Did the child resemble Brendan? Did it have his silky brown hair or eyes like melted chocolate? Was it a boy or a girl? How long had he been with Maggie? Isela had so many questions, but she knew she’d never ask. She supposed Maggie was beautiful. Undoubtedly she had a perfect body and a voice like warm honey.

Why? Why had Brendan done this? All he’d have had to do was to ask her what he wanted to know and she would have told him. He didn’t need to pretend their relationship was anything more than it was. Whatever his reason for being here, clearly involved the hunter.

Were they working for Guarros? Spying? That couldn’t be it. Isela had been certain the hunter didn’t trust the warden. Why would he work for him? Unless he had to. Perhaps Guarros was blackmailing the hunter and that’s why he didn’t like him. And how did Bashua fit in? It didn’t matter. Whatever Brendan’s reasons were for pretending to be an inmate didn’t give him the right to trick her into sleeping with him and then walking away with no explanation.

He chose to lie to her. He made the decision to say all those lovely things to her without meaning them, to promise her a future with him, and by doing that, he’d given her hope. She’d given herself to him, completely, physically as well as emotionally. Then he betrayed her...as well the woman who was probably his wife.

After all, he’d slept with another woman, knowing all the while, he had his child and a woman who loved him waiting at home. Isela wondered how she could have been so wrong about Brendan. Did Maggie know her husband’s activities, impersonating an inmate and seducing servants? Doubtful.

Although, Isela was fairly certain Maggie had never lived in a prison, slaving away for someone like Guarros. She’d probably never even seen a prison. No, Maggie probably stayed at home doing all of the things a perfect wife and mother did. Not that Isela would know what that entailed.

Unable to stop herself, Isela thought of Brendan’s gaze, how it burned through her. She remembered the sweet taste of his kiss, how he held her so tenderly and yet with arms like steel. The way his touch sent electric heat spiraling through her body and how she’d miss him.

The tears began to fall slowly, streaming down her cheeks. Isela pulled weed after weed, clawing and tearing at the ground as her soft tears changed to wretched sobs racking her body until her fingers were raw. Finally, the beds were free of weeds and her tears had run dry.

She gathered the refuse and deposited the piles into the compost bin. The sun shined high in the sky. They’d be serving the midday meal soon. Isela headed inside to clean up so she could begin the preparations.

****

Out of the corner of his eye, Brendan watched Isela enter the kitchen area. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, wet, probably fresh from the shower. Unintentionally, Brendan’s mind wandered to the imagery of Isela standing naked in the shower lathering up her luscious curves, cool water cascading over her perfect breasts, puckering her nipples into taut little peaks.

Overly aware of the tightening in his groin, Brendan did his best not to stare at her. It sucked the air right from Brendan’s chest when she didn’t even glance in his direction. He had to talk to her.

Forgetting he had his own personal guard, Brendan dropped his tools and started after Isela.

“Stop!” the guard ordered. He tackled Brendan to the ground, pinning his arms behind him. Brendan cursed, attempting to break free. The guard rammed his knee into Brendan’s back, rendering him immobile. He grunted in pain.

As the guard hauled Brendan to his feet, he said, “You will return to your post and get back to work. You will not make any attempt to walk away, even for a second. Are we clear? Do you understand? Because if not, I’m sure the warden would be happy to explain it to you.”

Brendan held up his hands, glancing quickly at Isela. She stood facing him, her eyes frightened, both hands covering her mouth and nose. She might have been holding her breath.

“No, I’m good,” Brendan said. “Back to work. I’m going.”

When he looked up again, Isela was gone. Brendan continued to scan the dining area, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, desperate to get her attention, but he didn’t see her again. He spent the rest of the day working, knowing the woman he loved was avoiding him at all costs.

He returned to his cell at the end of the day, broken. Despite the fact that the guard, as usual, gave him plenty of opportunity to escape for a while, he remained in his cell. Where was he supposed to go? He wasn’t welcome in the only place he longed to be. He flopped down on his cot, fighting the desperate sadness soaking into his bones.

Chapter Eighteen

Isela hadn’t spoken to Brendan in four days. The time away hadn’t helped though. The ache in her heart hadn’t lessened. It had gotten worse, a festering hole, eating away at her.

That afternoon, she went to see Bashua. He smiled warmly, holding his hands through the bars of his cell. Isela squeezed them. Bashua rarely came out of his cell anymore. Isela had asked him why on several occasions, but he would simply shrug and tell her the company was more interesting on his side of the bars.

“Well, if it isn’t my emerald angel with eyes like the sea,” he sang out. Isela blushed. He’d been calling her that as long as she could remember. He said it was because her wild red hair reminded him of the Irish girl he’d once loved, explaining that Ireland was an emerald isle in the other world surrounded by an ocean the same color as her eyes.

“What can I do for you, angel?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, Bash,” she replied. “You know about the meat deal Guarros made with the hunters, right?”

“Sure, everybody’s talking about it.”

“Right after that we got a new inmate. He and I sort of became friends, close friends.”

Heat flooded her face. Bashua leaned in closer, an eyebrow raised, but said nothing.

Averting her eyes, Isela continued. She told Bashua about the day Brendan saved Darrios. Then she brought up the letter. “I saw the hunter slip something into Brendan’s pocket then remove something. I meant to ask him about it, but I forgot. Next thing I know, he’s acting all lovey-dovey to me.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears not to form. “Then I found a letter the hunter wrote. I think something’s going on. I was hoping you could help me figure it out.”

“Why me?”

Isela looked him straight in the eye. “Because the hunter mentioned you by name in his letter, Bash. He told Brendan he needed to talk to you.”

Bashua stepped back away from the bars of his cell. Rubbing his chin, he paced for several minutes. Isela took a step closer to him. Finally, he turned to her.

“First thing we need to do is find out who this hunter is. Then we find out his relationship to your boy and to Guarros. You need to stay cozy with him without letting on any suspicion so you can get me that information.”

Isela paled.

“What is it?”

Isela stared at her feet, kicking out at nothing. “He’s married, Bash.” She met his gaze again, her eyes rimmed with tears. “The note the hunter slipped him? It fell out of his pocket. That’s how I found it.”

Isela told him what the letter said. She’d read it so many times, she knew it by heart.

“Isela, are you in love with this young man?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t known him very long, but I think that’s where it was heading...at least I thought so, before I found out he’d lied...about everything. Now I just want to get him out of my head.”

“I know it hurts, honey, but if we’re going to figure out what’s going on, we need to know a little bit more of the game.”

Isela rubbed her arms. “What do you want me to do?”

“Is there any way you can make up with him without making him suspicious?”

“He’s been diligently trying to get me to talk to him. He says he can explain everything. I just don’t want to listen to any more of his lies.”

“Okay, honey,” he said with a fatherly pat to her hand. “Next time they open up these doors, I’ll take a walk. I’ll find this Brendan fella and see what he’s all about.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure I would. We gotta look out for each other, you and me. Seems nobody else does.”

****

Brendan had spent the entire morning scanning the room for even a glimpse of Isela. He needed to catch her eye so he could make her understand how much he needed to talk to her. Nothing. It was as if she’d vanished like a ghost. This was the fifth day in a row he’d gone without her. He was about ready to go out of his mind.

Because Isela’s rejection consumed him, he’d been kind of slack on his investigation. He needed to come with something fast or Darrios would have his head. He’d tried talking to a few people, but his mind kept wandering. Where was Isela? What was she doing? Did she miss him even a fraction of how much he missed her? How was he going to get her back? With those thoughts swirling around in his head, he couldn’t even put together two and two, let alone, solve any mystery around here. And that didn’t even include the dreams.

He dreamed of her every night, sexy, raw, hot, dreams of the two of them. He’d wake up rock hard, bathed in sweat. If he got back to sleep at all, it was lonely and frustrated, which didn’t bear for a great morning either.

Pete had all but stopped talking to him his mood had been so foul. He’d about given up when he noticed Mae wander in. He waved her over, calling out to her. Her eyes met his and then narrowed. She stomped over, hands on her hips.

“What?” she asked, her tone hostile.

“Have you seen her?” he replied, not bothering to try to hide the desperation in his voice.”

“Why should I tell you anything? You lied.”

“I know, Mae. You’re right, but I promise I can explain if I can just get her to talk to me.”

“Oh, so you can tell her more lies, so she’ll have sex with you?”

Brendan sighed. He slumped down on a bench, shaking his head. “I know you have no reason to believe me, Mae. I lied. I admit it. Look at me. Look into my eyes. I love her. I love Isela and I need to let her know. Please help me. Please try to get her to listen to me.”

Mae started to soften. Brendan could tell he was getting to her. She sat down next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“What are you going to tell her? I mean, what can you possibly say to excuse what you did? You hurt her terribly.”

“I know, I know, and I intend to make it up to her. Believe me when I tell you, Mae, I had a really good reason to lie.”

Mae’s eyes went wide and then hardened again. She jumped up, kicking Brendan in the shin again.

He grabbed his leg. “Shit, Mae, will ya quit doing that? What did I say?”

She pointed a finger at him. “You know perfectly well,” she shrieked. “A really good reason to lie? Yeah, I know all about your reason. Both of them. You’re such a pig!”

Before Brendan could say another word, she turned and stormed off. Brendan rubbed his shin wondering what the hell had just happened.

Pete approached him, smirking. “That went well,” he said.

“I don’t have a clue what I did to piss her off,” Brendan replied.

“You mean besides hurt her best friend?”

Brendan shook his head, but said nothing. Pete looked past him, his smile fading.