Blackmailing His Runaway Bride by Dance-is-me (carter reed .txt) 📗

Eleven

"Tell me you are making some kind of stupid joke," Isabella said as she felt an unstable shiver in her legs.

"It is no joke. Your father is-"

"I heard you already!" she exclaimed, her eyes darting in confusion. Without seeing his proof, she sort of believed him. It made sense a bit. Her father's death explained his prolonged silence.

But... why?

"Here."

As she received the images Charles stretched toward her, her legs failed her and she hit the floor before Charles could help her.

When she flipped through the photos which revealed all- her father's body, his death certificate, his funeral- she wondered why she was kept in the dark.

According to the pictures, he died a year ago.

Uncle Ben had been lying to her as well. According to the pictures, he also attended the funeral. But he said nothing to her, he just kept assuring her that her father would someday call.

Isabella was resisting the urge to laugh at her life. Her sad life. The reason she was in a damned marriage was dead and she had no idea.

And, the man who knew how much she craved freedom from her shackles said nothing to her but made her feel slightly okay about her sorry life.

Her life was sorry indeed.

As she looked up at Charles who had leaned against the wall and watched her silently, she asked, "Did you come with your car?"

His short nod was all she needed and she was on the way to her godfather's place, her whole body screaming silently.

Almost an hour and thirty minutes later, Isabella was parking Charles's BMW in the little space that was available in front of the comfortable-looking suburban-ish building which was alike in structure to the other houses that formed the community tucked inside a part of New Jersey.

From outside, thanks to the little peep his curtains offered, Isabella could tell that Uncle Ben was in.

Without wasting a second, she rang his doorbell. After another second she rang it again...The man had to know that his visitor was an impatient one.

"Why... Isabella." No doubt, he was surprised to see her standing by his doorstep.

"Hello, Uncle Ben." Isabella did not wait for his invitation as she helped herself into the house.

"Why... You should have mentioned that you will be coming over when you called earlier. This is quite unexpected."

Her eyes roamed the room as she walked into his scanty living room. Not much had changed but his way of dressing. Thankfully, he gave up the funky lifestyle for a look that suited his age.

"I did not think I would have a reason to be here either." She swiftly turned to face him. "Where is my father, Uncle Ben?"

"Uh..." His palms danced together as his eyes narrowed. "He should be at home. I left him there after he came back from work."

Isabella sighed. "He is at home. He went to work," she repeated to herself.

"Y-yes, he did. I made sure to remind him that you called though."

Isabella's hands just had to clench into a fist.

He was telling her lies, right to her face. It was taking every ounce of leftover patience in her to not go on a shouting spree.

After a deep breath was released, she finally said, "Why are you lying to me?"

He took a step forward. "What do you mean?"

Isabella felt her knees shake again. Reaching into the small bag she had found in Charles's car, she wondered what the man who was looking at her like she was acting like a potential mental hospital patient was thinking.

"Here, explain this."

He reached for the pictures and when his eyes settled on the first one, the furrow on his face gave Isabella the response she needed.

"Isabella..." he whispered into the room as his legs failed him and sent him almost staggering into the wall behind him.

"You have been lying to me, Uncle. And, that is one thing I don't understand. So, why?"

"Isabella... I..."

She did not let him continue. "Why did you leave me in the dark when you of all people know how much I would love to leave the murdering position my father kept me in because of his debts?"

Uncle Ben dropped the pictures onto the floor, his face now wearing a rather serious look. "It would have made no difference. Even in death, your father continues to owe that debt and there is no coming out of it."

Isabella frustratingly grabbed the side of her head as her feet became restless. "I want to come out of it. I want to freaking come out of this payment I am making. It is killing me, Uncle Ben."

"I am afraid that is not possible, Isabella."

"Well, I guess I will just have to make it possible because I am fed up of living a life that is not mine."

Uncle Ben sighed again. "I repeat, it is not possible. If you leave that Manifold man, he is going to come after you and when he catches you, he will become very, very rough."

Rough.

Isabella scoffed almost loudly at that word. She definitely wasn't going to wait around for Gabriel to use her again like a rag.

She was not going to let her father drive her around even in death.

And... speaking of deaths...

Isabella's raging yet calculating eyes traveled back to the man in the room. "Why didn't you tell me that my father was dead? Is my life so terrible, that denying me such information seemed like a good thing to do?"

"I did it to protect you."

An amused look took over her face. "Protect me? Really? Protect me?" The shift in his eyes showed how much the glare that had already taken over her face affected him.

"Listen to me, no one, absolutely no one, for the past goddamn years I have spent in that hell has ever protected me. Only me! I am the only one that has done a good job when it comes to that and starting from this moment, I am going to be doing more than that. I will be setting myself free."

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