Isela's Love (9 page)

“Not in the slightest. I have work to do.”

She began pumping water into the sink. The young women ogled for a few more minutes until the supervisor shooed them away from the door.

“Get to your duties,” she ordered. “Or you’ll be doing double time like Isela here.”

They obeyed, their eyes cast downward. The supervisor went back to the dining area, the door swinging shut behind her. Isela heard her scolding the new inmate about the way he was scrubbing the floor. She glanced up toward the door, feeling sorry for him.

After loading another stack of plates in her arms, Isela made her way to the sink. The supervisor swung the door wide open to check on them, giving Isela a clear view into the dining room. She gasped, dropping the entire stack of plates.

All she could hear was her own heart pounding in her chest as the plates crashed to the floor, shattering to pieces. He looked up, meeting her gaze. It was him. Oh God, it was him.

She wanted to run, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She stood rooted in the remains of the dishes she’d been about to wash, staring at the most handsome face she’d ever seen, the face from her visions.

The supervisor yanked Isela forward, snapping her out of her trance. Reflexively, she tried to jerk her arm free, but the large woman held on.

“Now you’ve done it,” she snapped, dragging Isela through the dining area. “We’ll just see what the warden has to say about this. He’ll punish you good, I’ll bet, you clumsy little twit.”

The new inmate stood up and said, “Let her go.”

The entire room stilled. The supervisor smiled smugly, never loosening her grip on Isela. She motioned to a couple of the guards. “Bring him. He obviously needs to see how things are done around here.”

The guards grabbed the man. He didn’t fight. They each had one of his arms, leading him to the warden’s office. Isela’s heart raced, not in fear of Guarros, but of this man. What did his presence mean? She wanted to turn around, to get a better look at him, but she didn’t dare.

The supervisor knocked on Guarros’ door. They heard some shuffling then a female servant, a couple of years older than Isela, opened the door. She kept her eyes on the floor, her face flushed. Isela clenched her teeth, knowing what Guarros had been coercing her to do. At least his victims were old enough to give consent, not that it mattered. He was still a degenerate. Waves of loathing and disgust rolled off her.

“What is it?” Guarros barked without even looking up.

The supervisor cleared her throat. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we had a problem with these two.”

Guarros finished tucking in his shirt, shaking his head. “It is your job to handle the prisoners, Harriet. If you can’t manage—”

“One of them is your servant, sir.”

Isela cast her a hateful stare at her use of the words
your servant
.

Guarros glanced up, smiling broadly. He sauntered over, shamelessly looking Isela up and down, his hands behind his back.

“Well, well, Isela, what have you done this time? Terrorizing the newest member of our little family?” he asked, tilting his head toward the new inmate.

“No sir,” the supervisor said, “First of all, she was late.” She gave Isela a smug look, “Yeah, I knew. She carelessly did her work, making a mess out of the kitchen. I assigned her extra duties at that point. Then she dropped an entire stack of dishes. I think she did it deliberately.”

Guarros nodded at the supervisor to release Isela. As soon as she let go, Guarros grabbed a handful of her hair. He hauled her to him, holding her hair so tight it brought tears to her eyes.

“Is that true, Isela?” he asked.

“No, no, it’s not.”

He released her so suddenly, she stumbled. “So you’re saying your accuser is a liar?”

“No—”

“Then you’re lying.”

“No, I’m—”

Reaching out, his hand as quick as a snake, he slapped Isela open handed.

“My people do not lie to me, Isela. But you do, don’t you?”

He turned his attention to the new inmate, who stood glowering at him.

“What’s his story?” Guarros asked, glaring back at him.

“He defended her,” the guard said nodding toward Isela.

Guarros raised an eyebrow. His lips curled into an evil smile. “Really? How gallant of you...what was your name again?”

“Brendan Malone.”

“Well, Brendan Malone, since you’re new here, we’ll assume you’re unfamiliar with the rules. A mistake I’m sure you won’t make again.” He turned to Isela, grabbing her chin in his hand. “Watch, darling. This is because of you.”

Guarros punched Brendan in the gut, doubling him over. He then, took Brendan’s head and slammed his face into his bent knee. Isela looked away.

Brendan stood, struggling to breathe, his nose and mouth bleeding. He looked Guarros straight in the eye.

“We do not interfere when another inmate or one of my servants is being disciplined. Is that understood?”

“She didn’t do anything wrong,” Brendan replied.

Guarros punched him in the face. Isela looked at him desperately, her eyes pleading with him to say no more. He met her gaze, nodding slightly.

Guarros got in his face. “Are you slow, boy? I don’t care what you think. That’s why Harriet is my supervisor and you’re not. Get it? She decides who needs to be punished and who doesn’t. End of story.”

He took a step back, clapping his hands together. “What did we learn here, boys and girls?”

Isela resisted the urge to scream, “That you’re a filthy, heartless pig.” Instead, she answered for the two of them to spare Brendan further abuse at Guarros’ hand. “We learned to be careful and prompt when it comes to work and we don’t interfere.”

She looked over to Brendan, giving him that same pleading glance.

“And you, boy? Do you agree with our lovely Isela, here?” Guarros asked condescendingly.

Brendan nodded, his eyes still locked to hers.

Guarros clapped his hands together again and smiled. “Take him back downstairs. Leave her with me.”

Isela’s heart sank. She’d have rather worked all day and night than to have to spend one minute alone with Guarros.

Guarros shut the door behind the guards then turned to face her. The angry expression on his face told Isela this wasn’t over. She tried not to wince as he approached her, his fists clenched. He walked a complete circle around her, stopping in front of her.

“You don’t think I saw that?” he hissed.

She blinked nervously a couple of times, unsure of what he meant.

“Oh, what? You’re going to pretend nothing’s going on?” he demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isela whispered.

He nodded, tapping his lip, pacing back and forth in front of her. “I see. So you haven’t taken a shine to the new inmate.”

“What?”

“He hasn’t been here long enough for you to have screwed him.” He stopped, pointing his finger at her. “You must’ve told him you’d screw him.”

“No, I didn’t! I don’t even know him.”

He laughed bitterly. “You expect me to believe this young man, whom you’ve never met, just stood up for you for no reason.”

Isela gritted her teeth. “Maybe he’s just a good guy, not like you’d know anything about that.”

He raised his fist, pulling back his arm. Isela squeezed her eyes shut, cringing. Guarros stopped. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

“Do you see what you do to me?” he yelled. Taking a deep breath, he pressed her against the wall. His eyes boring into hers, he spoke quietly, but in a tone that made the hairs on Isela’s neck stand on end.

“I will not tolerate it, Isela. If you allow that man to touch you, you’ll sentence him to death. Do you understand me?”

Isela nodded, afraid for herself, but more afraid for Brendan.

Chapter Ten

Mae was pacing up and down the hallway when Isela returned to her room. Mae rushed up to her, flinging her arms around her friend.

“Omigod, omigod, omigod,” Mae chanted. “I was so scared. Everyone said you and the new boy had a problem. What did he do to you?”

Isela hugged Mae back, shushing her, trying to get her to calm down.

“Let’s go inside,” she said, glancing around.

Mae followed her in, flopping down on Isela’s bed, wringing her hands. Isela sat down next to Mae.

“Mae, I’m fine,” Isela lied.

Her heart raced and her mouth was dry. Every time she thought about Brendan, her mind wandered back to her visions. She felt hot all over.

“So, tell me about the new boy,” Mae said.

“He’s a man, Mae, not a boy.”

Mae looked at Isela, puzzled. “Okay, he’s a man. What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t do anything. He defended me. He stood up to the supe and told her to let me go.”

Mae blew out a breath.

“What?” Isela asked.

“Um...you tell me. You had this weird, dreamy smile on your face when you said that. Are you all right?”

Isela shrugged. “I don’t know. It was nice to have someone speak up for me for a change...Oh my God, Mae. He got his ass kicked for it. We have to find him. I need to find out where his cell is.”

“Why?”

Isela jumped up. “I have to get into the kitchen.”

“No, no way. You’re in enough trouble. Why do you need to go back into the kitchen?”

I need to get some towels...and something to clean his wounds.”

Mae stood up. She stepped in front of Isela, grabbing her hands. “Isela,” she said softly. “Stop. What are you doing?”

Tears filled Isela’s eyes. “I had a vision, Mae. Just like before. Red haze and everything. I couldn’t save my mother, but I will save him.”

Mae tried to hug her but she pulled away. “Please Mae, help me. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I need you to trust me.”

Mae nodded, dropping Isela’s hands. “I’ll go to the kitchen. You stay here. I’ll get the things you need and I’ll find out where the new bo...new man’s cell is.”

“His name is Brendan.”

Mae nodded again. “Stay here, Isela. I’ll be back.”

****

Brendan dabbed at the cut above his eye. The prehistoric mirror in his tiny cell barely allowed him to see his face, which he guessed was a good thing based on how much it hurt. He didn’t think his ribs were broken, but they were definitely bruised.

Nothing like drawing attention to himself on day one. “You’re supposed to be undercover, dumbass,” he said to his warped reflection. Why had he opened his mouth? He knew why. He couldn’t help himself.

When he saw that girl, Isela, he couldn’t look away. Her unusual aquamarine eyes revealed so much, her strength, her suffering, her fear, and her confidence. She was a soldier...and she was the most beautiful sight Brendan had ever seen. Something he did made her drop those plates. He couldn’t just stand by and let that Neanderthal woman drag her away. He had to say something.

Then when that sadistic son of a bitch Guarros hit her, something snapped inside of Brendan. His heal-all attitude was suddenly replaced by a killer instinct. He hadn’t even felt Guarros’ blows, his rage had run so hot.

When she’d given him those looks, her beautiful eyes begging him to stop, his heart constricted, causing him physical pain. He would have done anything to ease that look.

A loud pounding on the outer door made him jump.

“Who is it?” he yelled.

“It’s me, Isela...from earlier,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The cells weren’t locked at this time of day on this block so the inmates could work their shifts.

Despite the pain he was in, Brendan raced to the door, flinging it open. She was a vision, standing there in the hallway, her penny-colored hair, slightly mussed, framing her face. A chunky wide-eyed girl stood next to her. Grabbing Isela’s hand, he pulled her through the entrance. Her friend stared at him with a wrinkled brow for only a second before she followed Isela inside and shut the door.

“Are you all right?” he asked, a bit breathlessly.

She nodded, glancing down at his hand clasping hers. He let go, leery of spooking her.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I was worried about you.”

His breath caught in his throat. “You were?”

“Of course. Why did you stick up for me? What were you thinking?”

He gazed hard into her eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I must’ve done something to make you drop those dishes. It was my fault, not yours.”

Isela took a step back. “No, you didn’t do anything. I wasn’t paying attention, and I dropped them...after already being in trouble. You should probably avoid me like the plague. I tend to attract trouble.”

Mae snorted.

Brendan took Isela’s hand in his. “I have no intention of avoiding you. In fact, if I have my way, we’re going to get a lot closer.”

Mae squeaked behind them. Isela sucked in a breath as a hot wave of energy crashed over her. Pulling her hand away, she avoided his gaze. She shook her head.

“You don’t understand. Guarros...he won’t allow us to be...friends.” She looked into his eyes. “He’ll kill you. You have to ignore me...for your own safety.”

“Isela—”

“No,” she said, tearfully.

She snatched the cloths and other items from Mae’s hands, shoving then at him. “Here, for your wounds,” she said, right before she turned and ran away, Mae right behind her.

Chapter Eleven

Darrios did a double take when he saw his brother-in-law’s bruised and battered face. He bit back the rage now coursing through his veins as Evan stepped up behind him, placing his hand on Darrios’ shoulder.

“Be cool,” he whispered.

Darrios nodded, breathing deeply. When he caught his eye, Brendan gave him a lopsided smile. Guarros entered the room, his goons trailing behind. He noticed Darrios staring at Brendan.

“New inmate,” he said, “Started giving me trouble on his very first day. I had to set him straight.”

“So you beat your inmates into submission? That works for you?” Darrios asked acidly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Derosa, is there a problem?”

Evan shot Darrios a warning glance. Darrios glanced over Guarros’s shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he extended his hand.

“No, Warden Guarros. I apologize for my rudeness. It was a rough trip over.”