Seventy Nine

Isabella

That pause is all they need to swarm around me. I try to pull free, but they won't budge, dragging me back inside.

Marco doesn't seem surprised. "Enjoy the fresh air?"

So many words burn my tongue. Most are creative versions of "fuck off," but I have to be careful with this man. "What are you going to do?"

"Come. Stand here, Isabella." He moves to the centre of the room, the rope in his hand. Looking over his shoulder, he tells his guards to bring me over. Even though I know there was nowhere for me to go, I take a step back.

It does no good. I am tightly held by the guards as they drag me over to Marco. "Hold her hands behind her back," Marco orders.

"No, please." I hate myself for begging, but I don't want this. My mind is completely terrified, and my heart is racing. Why does he need rope? Is he going to rape me? Torture me? Oh, God. I can't breathe.