Isela's Love (20 page)

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Pete said under his breath.

Brendan turned to see what Pete was referring to. “What?”

“It’s Bashua. He hasn’t left his cell in...I don’t even know it’s been so long. He’s kind of a legend around here.”

The man was old. He had a well-trimmed white goatee and mustache and a weathered complexion. A thick scar ran across his forehead at an angle. His hands were heavily calloused. This man had definitely seen some action. He walked with a limp, but his step still determined.

Brendan and Pete stood there watching Bashua as he continued toward them. They glanced at each other nervously.

He stopped in front of them, looking Brendan up and down.

“You Brendan?” he asked in a deep, gravelly voice.

Brendan nodded. “Yeah.”

Bashua smiled broadly, then drew back and punched Brendan in the face. The sound of his fist connecting with Brendan’s jaw echoed like a gunshot. Pete cursed as Brendan dropped to the floor. He shook his head, seeing stars then stood slowly, eyeing Bashua and rubbing his jaw.

“Do I even know you?” Brendan asked.

“Nope, but you know Isela. That girl’s like a daughter to me. I don’t take kindly to a fella usin’ her the way you did.”

“I didn’t use her. I never—”

Bashua held up his hand. “Save it. We need to talk.”

He motioned for Brendan to follow him. Brendan glanced at Pete then hesitantly followed Bashua down the hall leading to the servant’s quarters. A lump formed in Brendan’s throat as they passed Isela’s door. The memory of the heated nights they spent together in that room flashed through his mind. He sighed.

Bashua stopped and knocked on a door. A small-statured man with a receding hairline and a thin mustache opened the door.

Towering over him, Bashua nodded. “Ralph?”

Ralph’s eyes grew wide. “Bashua, um...Come in, come in,” he said stepping aside.

Bashua ducked under the doorframe, Brendan right behind him.

“Ralph, me and Brendan, here need a private place to talk. Do you mind?”

“No, no, of course not. I’ll get right out of your way,” he said as he backed out the door. “Take your time. I’ll be in the parlor.”

Bashua shut the door before the man finished speaking. He limped over to the small table and sat down. Brendan stood there, waiting for him to speak.

Bashua rubbed his furry chin. “You gonna sit?”

Brendan sat down, without taking his eyes off Bashua.

Bashua met his gaze, thoughtfully. “So, why you so interested in me, boy?”

“We have a mutual friend.”

“I’m pretty sure Isela don’t wanna be your friend, no more.”

“I’m not talking about her, but I really do care for her.”

You sure have a funny way of showing it, son. You care for your wife and child the same way?”

“What?”

“Your wife. You know, the woman you married...till death do us part and all that nonsense. The woman who’s child you fathered.”

Brendan jumped up, rubbing his palms down his thighs. “What are you talking about, Bashua? I assure you. I’m not married and I do not have any children.”

“Why does Isela think otherwise?”

Brendan couldn’t catch his breath. He began pacing. Oh my God, no wonder she hates me...but why would she—”

“The letter.”

“Shit! That goddamned letter.”

“You gonna explain?”

“I gotta go find her.”

“Cool your jets, hot stuff. She’s not feelin’ real warm toward you right now. Tell me what you need to talk to me about. We’ll conduct our business and if I like what you say, maybe I’ll put in a good word.”

“My brother-in-law sent me a letter. He told me my sister and the baby, their baby, missed me and wanted me home. Oh God, he didn’t say ‘your sister.’ He said Maggie. Isela must’ve assumed Maggie was my wife. I need to tell her. She must think I’m just as bad as Guarros.”

“Later. First, who’s this mutual friend we have?”

Brendan sat back down, trying to remain focused on the actual reason he was there. “My brother-in-law, Darrios Derosa.”

Bashua’s eyes widened. He leaned back and blew out a breath.

“Wow, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Darrios Derosa is your brother in law? He got married?”

“Yeah, to my sister.”

“Huh...Darrios married. Hard to imagine. And a baby too. Heh-heh, some things sure do change. How does he feel about you being in prison?”

Ignoring the question, Brendan leaned in closer. “Darrios hates the warden. He doesn’t approve of—How shall I put it?—some of Guarros’s activities.”

Bashua erupted into full belly laughter. Brendan stared at him, puzzled. Finally, Bashua wiped his eyes.

“Oh, now that’s funny, son. Everybody in here hates Guarros, and everybody in here knows what a shifty snake that motherfucker is. So what?”

“Darrios wants to take him down.”

Bashua’s smile faded. “Ain’t gonna happen. Nobody wants him dead more than me. Well, maybe Isela, but he’s too powerful. He’s got Council members in his pocket. No one can touch him.”

“What if we can prove he’s dirty? What if the council couldn’t protect him without exposing themselves? Don’t you think they’d let him fry to save their own skins?”

Bashua narrowed his eyes. “Whadaya got in mind, boy?”

Brendan straightened in his chair. He shook his head. “Uh-uh. First I need to know if we can trust you.”

“We?”

“Yeah, along with Darrios, there’s a few others willing to take on this mission.”

“If it means ridding the world of that piece of shit Guarros, I’m one hundred percent on board.”

“How do I know you won’t turn me in?”

“You must already have some idea about my character or Darrios wouldn’t have sent you to me. He hates criminals.”

“He thought you were dead.”

“I expect anyone who ever knew me out there thinks that. Honestly? I don’t know why Guarros kept me alive.”

“What are you talking about?”

“How do I know I can trust you, Brendan?”

“I came to you, remember?”

“It could be a setup by Guarros, to find out how much I know. Tell me something about Darrios. Something Guarros wouldn’t know.”

Brendan thought about all the things Maggie had told him about Darrios. “When Darrios first came to Celio, Jezbah’s sister took him in. When she died she left him her house in Inland.”

“Something else.”

Brendan sighed and scratched his head. “He likes pickles, a lot. In fact, he’d pickle anything and eat it.”

Bashua laughed. “That he would. “Okay, son, what’s the plan?”

“We need some evidence. We have several witnesses, but it isn’t enough. We need concrete, irrefutable proof. That’s why I’m here. Unfortunately, the warden hates me because of Isela.”

Bashua stood up so quickly he tipped the chair over. “The warden knows about you and Isela?”

“No, no. He suspected I was attracted to her when I first arrived. He warned me to stay away, and he’s done everything he can to keep us as far apart as possible.”

Bashua sat back down, outstretching his legs. “And still you managed to find each other,” he said sarcastically. “Isela thinks you used her to get to me.”

“No, sir, I swear, I didn’t. I never planned on falling for her. From what I hear, it’s the unhealthiest thing to do around here. Judging by the ass-kicking I got when the warden only suspected my attraction to her, I’d wager he’d kill me if he knew.”

Brendan glanced down at his hands, resting in his lap. He took a deep breath, returning his gaze to Bashua’s. “From the moment I saw her, I knew we were meant to be together. It was as if we were two halves of the same whole. We both felt it, I know it. If I could just explain things to her—”

“What’s stoppin’ you?”

“She is. She refuses to talk to me. Hell, she won’t even be in the same room with me.”

Bashua smiled. “Seems to me, you must be pretty crafty to have come up with a plan to destroy Guarros and pretty strong to endure this place. You gonna let one itty bitty girl take you out?”

Brendan furrowed his brow. “What are you saying?”

“I’m sayin’ you need to get control of the situation. What’s done is done. If you let your guilt run the show, you’ll never get her back. If all of this is just a misunderstanding and you do really care, you need to make her see that, no matter what. What have you got to lose?”

Brendan jumped up again, smacking the table. “You’re right. I’ll go right now. Are you going to say anything to her?”

“Nope. I reckon this is something she needs to hear from you. You don’t need me stickin’ my nose in it.”

As Brendan reached for the door knob, Bashua called to him.

“Brendan? You need to understand that this thing with Guarros? Once we start, there’s no turning back. It’s likely to get dangerous.”

“I know. But I promised Isela her freedom. And it’s like she said. I’ll get it or die trying.”

Chapter Nineteen

Isela dried the last dinner dish, relieved she could finally return to her room and not have to worry about running into Brendan. The buzz around the dining area had been all about Bashua coming around.

Wild speculation ran rampant throughout every sitting. Isela never commented. She kept quiet, burying herself in her duties. She knew why Bashua had come out. He’d done it for her. She’d return to her room tonight then go speak to him at her first opportunity tomorrow.

She folded the towel in half and hung it on the towel bar. Before she reached the doorway, one of Guarros’s minions popped his head inside.

“Warden wants to see you in his office,” he said crisply.

Isela rolled her eyes. What now? She pushed past the guard and slowly made her way to Guarros’s office. She knocked softly on the door, hoping he wouldn’t hear it. No such luck. He bellowed for her to enter.

He smiled a sickly lizard-like smile. “Ah, Isela, I’m so glad to see you.”

“Why?”

“Now, now, come and sit down. I’m always glad to see you, you know that.”

Refusing to make eye contact, she glanced to the left. She rubbed the palms of her hands over her thighs like she was cold.

“Are you all right, dear? Are you warm enough?” he asked feigning concern.

Isela ignored his question. “What do you want, Warden?”

“I’ve been worried about you. Rumor has it you haven’t been yourself lately. Why is that?”

“Talking to Keeri again I see,” Isela said, bored with his games.

“Actually, no. Several people, including my own, have been whispering about the possible reasons for your recent behavior.”

“And what behavior is that?” Isela demanded, becoming irritated.

Guarros got up and began parading around his office. “Well, for one thing, people say you’ve been withdrawn, quiet, as if you’re unhappy. One fellow used the term ‘brokenhearted.’”

Isela clasped her hands together and stared at them. Guarros came up behind her, grabbing her shoulders, applying just enough pressure not to cause her pain, but enough to let her know he could. She breathed in slowly as he loomed over her, speaking right into her ear.

“So tell me, Isela, is your heart broken? Who would do such a thing to you, my dear?”

She cleared her throat, attempting to squirm out of his clutches, unsuccessfully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking and giving her away.

Guarros stood up straight, tapping his lip with his finger. “Really, because if the rumors were true and someone hurt you romantically, I’d take care of him for you. You of all people know how swift and unforgiving I can be with punishment, don’t you?”

Isela nodded, afraid to take a breath. Did he know about Brendan or was he fishing? Was he going to bring Brendan in from the next room all beaten and bloody?

“Well?” Guarros asked indignant.

“Well what?”

“Who was it? Who dared to hurt you under my watch?”

“I told you, sir, nobody. You know how I feel about men. After all you are the one who made me feel that way, after what you did to my mother.”

Guarros spun her chair to face him. Grabbing her chin in his hand, he glared down upon her. “You’d be wise to watch your mouth, little lady. I will not put up with your insolence.”

Isela had had it. Between her grief over Brendan, her hatred for Guarros, her quest for freedom, and her newfound loneliness, something snapped. She jerked her chin out of Guarros’s hand and stood to face him. Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “You’re the one who summoned me. If you don’t want me to talk about how you repeatedly raped and tortured my mother, why don’t you leave me the fuck alone?”

Guarros backhanded her with enough force her teeth rattled. She fell to the floor onto her side. To clear the blur in her mind, she shook her head a little, tears burning in her eyes. She willed herself not to cry, but the tears fell anyway.

“Oh, you think you’re crying now, you just wait,” Guarros thundered, pulling his belt off.

Before Isela could regain her balance and stand, he doubled the thick leather strap into a loop, raised his arm high, and brought it down across her backside. Isela cried out, attempting to scramble away. Guarros raised his arm again, bringing it down across the back of her thigh. Isela was sobbing now, trying to crawl toward the door.

“I think one more should do it,” Guarros said sprightly, raising his arm once more. He brought it down across Isela’s back. She collapsed, bawling uncontrollably. Guarros replaced his belt and picked her up off the floor.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I do not, for the life of me, understand why you do that to me, Isela. Do you think I enjoy punishing you?”

“Yes,” she whispered through her tears.

His face clouded into something quite menacing. He tightened his grip on her arm. “If that were true, then I wouldn’t have stopped at three. You should be getting the beating you deserve for talking to me like that.”

He smiled and let her go. “But I’m going to give you a break. I’ll assume it was just your broken heart talking. You may go now.”

Guarros opened the door and shoved Isela into the hall, still sniveling. Wiping her eyes on the hem of her shirt, she hurried into the first restroom available, attempting to avoid all the knowing stares. She blew her nose then pumped water into her hand, splashing it on her face, enjoying the sensation of the cool water washing away the sting of her tears.