The door slammed close, confining Isabella in the refuge her car offered. She stared ahead, unmoving, the words she had just heard replaying in her head.
Tears, stubborn and hot, trailed down her cheeks and she brought shaky hands up to cover her face. She pressed a hand over her lips, suppressing the small, involuntary sobs that slipped out anyway. She was so grateful her windows were dark, that way no one could see her break but then, anyone could pass by and hear her crying. Tears flowed freely now. She tasted the salt. Her vision blurred.
She leaned on the steering wheel and jumped when the horn blared. Her head jerked up, eyes darting. People turned. Her face burned.
*I should leave.*
She stared down at her trembling hands and pressed them together, hoping the tremors would stop.
They didn't.
*I'm too shaky to drive. María. Yes. She wouldn't judge. She never has.*
HAVE YOU EVER HANDLED ANYTHING YOURSELF? AS ALWAYS, WAITING FOR A SAVIOR.
She fumbled through her bag, dialed her emergency contact the moment her fingers were steady enough. She brought the phone to her ear, the tears falling in torrents down her face.
The phone rang in her ear. No answer. She dialed again, feeling lungs start to constrict.
*Please pick up. Por favor.*
Isabella's head leaned on the headrest and she shut her eyes with relief as the call went through.
"Isa, amor, lo siento—"
"Mar," she choked out.
There was silence on the other end. Isabella sniffed. She heard a chair scrape on the floor through the phone.
"I need to take this call, please."
"We are almost done, Miss. Danvers, if we could just—"
"Just a few minutes, it wouldn't take more than that."
*No. No. I need more than few minutes, Mar. Please.*
She heard a door close and then María's voice filtered in once again, filled with concern. "Isa, are you okay? I saw your note: how did it go?"
Isabella's voice was tight, hoarse. "Mar... please. I need you. I can't—I'm outside the building and I can't drive."
"Are you crying? What happened."
"I... I can't start explaining right now, Mar." sniff. "I just need you to come get me, please."
María's voice was soft, apologetic. "Isa, I can't: I'm in the middle of a consult. I'm so sorry." She released a deep breath. "Why don't you call a—no. Wait. I'll call Harry. He'll come. Right now."
Isabella flinched. "No. No. Anyone but him."
"There is no one else, Isa. You could call a taxi but you don't like being around strangers when you cry."
"Harry is a stranger."
María sighed. "He isn't, Isa. He's better than a taxi driver at least."
"Xander! What about him? I would take him over Harry," Isabella's voice was desperate.
María said nothing for a while. "Uh. Xander was on his way out on business the last time I spoke to him, I doubt he will be able to come either."
Silence.
"Listen, Querida," María started. "You need someone right now and I'll make sure to tell Harry to keep his mouth shut, okay? I'm almost done here, I would probably be arriving home at the same time as you guys, alright?" (Beloved)
Isabella nodded slowly and then she remembered that María couldn't see her.
"Okay."
"Hang in there, alright. I will tell him to be quick."
The call disconnected and Isabella's hand lowered to her lap dejectedly. She stared at the phone, a feeling of dread running down her spine.
*Why him? What if he pities me? I don't need saving.*
But the tremors had extended to her arms, it was as if she was coming down with something. She felt cold, feverish and the Aircon wasn't even on.
*But I can't drive. Not like this.*
She reclined into the seat, wrapping her arms around herself.
*Just breathe. Get it together.*
She shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. They came fast and heavy, on the edge of hyperventilating. She breathe into her nose — slowly inhaling, held it in for a few seconds and exhaled gently through her mouth. Her breathing slowed and her body relaxed against the seat.
Thud. Thud.
Isabella groaned, adjusting her head with a wince. Her neck hurt.
Thud. Thud.
*What's that sound?*
Slowly, her eyes opened and she shot up. She must have dozed off, the silence had stretched long enough to blur time.
Thud. Thud.
Her eyes snapped to the sound and they widened, standing on the other side of the car door was Harry.
*What do I do?*
"Ms. Montez?"
Isabella wiped her eyes furiously and pulled out a mirror from her bag to fix her face. She gasped at what she saw — she had mascara running down her cheeks, her face was as white as snow and her lipstick was smudged.
*Oh dear lord. I look like death.*
She fumbled to clean the mascara stain and smudges, glad she had pulled her hair into a ponytail. Once she felt she didn't look much like Tim Burton wife on a bad day, she pushed a button and the door unlocked with a click.
It pulled open and Harry's face appeared in her line of vision. His eyes took her in and she bristled.
"I'm fine," she snapped. Harry said nothing, his gaze fixed firmly on her face. "Are you getting in or not?"
Harry's voice was calm and surprisingly devoid of emotional undertone. "Slide over. I'll drive."
Isabella stared at him, her lips parting.
*What's with him?*
Harry cocked his head at her and Isabella hesitated but then, she noticed the eyes that Harry's presence drew. With a sigh, she scooted over to the passenger seat.
Harry got in, shut the door and within seconds the car's engine revved into life. Isabella strapped her seatbelt in and turned to look out the window, wrapping her arms around herself as goosebumps broke out all over her arms.
They stopped at a red light and Isabella jumped as a black leather jacket landed on her lap. She turned to Harry — who had his eyes on the road ahead — to see that he was no longer wearing his jacket from earlier.
She picked it off her lap and threw it on his with a little more force than was necessary.
"I don't need your pity," she hissed, shooting daggers at him when he glanced at her.
"Save your venom for someone who cares, Montez," Harry retorted, turning back to the road as the light turned green. "Your pride will be your downfall."
Tears brimmed in Isabella's eyes and she turned back to the window, obscuring her face from Harry. She blinked back the tears, determined not to give Harry the satisfaction of seeing her break down.
"You're shaking," Harry's voice came again.
Isabella shut her eyes against the hot tears trying to escape and brought her knees to her chin, her shoulders trembling slightly.
"Fuck it," Harry hissed. "Either cry it out, or talk. There is no freaking point pretending with me."
Isabella turned sharply, her eyes carrying the fire Harry was familiar with, except this time, its burn was dull.
"What the fuck do you want from me!" Her voice broke on the next words. "What do you all want from me."
Her voice became a quiet whisper. "Am I that obvious?"
Harry glanced at her. "What?"
"H— he said I contaminate everything. That I'm a disgrace and shouldn't be carrying the Montez name." She wrapped her arms around her legs. "They all looked at me like I was trash. Am I?"
Harry said nothing, his fingers digging into the wheel.
"They call me a loose bitch and a slut! Is it okay for them to call me that? Because I'm obvious, they can treat me like shit and think I won't get hurt?"
She turned a tear-stained face to Harry. "Why? Why do they judge and curse me? Why is it so easy for them? How can they read me so easily?" She pressed a hand to her chest. "When I—I— I don't even know who I am. They don't even know me but they've already decided who I am."
A sob racked her frame, her shoulders shaking. "I hate that it hurt. I hate that I care. What do I do?" She placed her forehead on her knees, her cries filling the car.
Harry glanced at her again, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He drove while Isabella sat in the passenger seat crying out her heart. Soon, her cries turned to sobs and the sobs, hiccups.
Still curled into herself, she leaned on the door, her head resting on the window. She stole a glance at Harry: his face was a mask of calm, his eyes narrowed slightly as he drove. Though fixed on the road, his eyes seemed to hold a depth and intensity she hadn't noticed before.
She hadn't realized how much she needed to vent, until she did. More to someone who had let her speak, said nothing, made no attempt to fix her and made no false promises.
Hadn't realized how much she craved his quiet strength. And how weirdly familiar he felt. She felt Spent, oddly comforted, still raw but not alone.
*Maybe he's not that bad after all. And he kind of reminds me of him. Maybe that's why his presence threw me off from the start?*
Her voice was small. "Thank you... for coming."
"I came because María asked."
*Yeah, right. Back to being a jerk I see.*
Isabella exhaled sharply, turning away. They drove in silence after that and Isabella watched the passing scenery, trying not to think about how the air between them felt different.
She wanted to stay awake, but her body and mind were exhausted, and against her wish, her heavy lids began to droop shut, her body relaxing against the door.
Harry pulled to the sidewalk and for few seconds, he just watched the soft rise and fall of her chest and the sporadic hiccups. He leaned over, draping his jacket over her.
His voice was quiet and intense. "They don't get to define you." A beat. "You do."
He pulled back into the road just as his phone rang. He glanced at the ID.
María.
"Is she okay?" María asked the moment the call connected.
Harry's gaze went to Isabella again. "She's asleep."
"Oh. That should be a good sign, right?"
Harry grunted.
"You didn't say anything dumb again, did you? The last thing she needs right now—"
"De nada," Harry interrupted. Click. (You're welcome)
The phone call ended but Harry's fingers lingered over the screen. He glanced at the rearview mirror, at the car he had noticed for a while now but kept mute about. She was already shaken enough. The black car turned when he did. Again. He frowned, tapping twice on the steering wheel.
*Coincidence?*
Isabella stirred slightly in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She looked so much younger like this, like the version of herself they'd tried to erase.
Harry's jaw clenched and He made a sudden right, eyes on the rearview again.
The car followed.
*Who the hell is that?*
He tapped on the name his finger had been hovering over and pressed the icon to put the call on speaker, placing the phone on the console.
"Hey Man."
"There is a black sedan tailing me, I need—"
"Did you say tailing you? I had no idea you had any business outside the house today."
"I don't fucking report to you, Xander. Listen to me, would you?"
Xander scoffed. "Do I have a choice?"
"No. The car number is KJA 854, find out who it is and let me know. Asap. I just sent my location to you, I want them intercepted before I get to the house, got it?"
Xander hummed. "I got the first part. What I don't get is why you need someone else to intercept the car when you can easily lose them. What? Feeling lazy?"
Harry's gaze went to Isabella's sleeping figure. The peace on her face was a huge contrast to the look on her face when he had opened the car door and it had taken everything in him not to reach out, and wipe the tears off her face.
"None of your business. I give orders because I can, got a problem with that?" He turned left, glaring at the rearview mirror when the car appeared right behind.
Xander sighed. "Stuck-up, bitch. Sometimes I wonder why we're friends"
"I wonder too. It would have been so much easier to put a bullet in your skull."
Xander's laughter filled the car and Isabella moaned, adjusting her head on the window.
"Keep it down, you dip shit. Any threats?"
Clacks of fingers on a keyboard filtered in from Xander's end. "Maybe. Maybe not. Seems it has been tailing you for a while now. How the fuck did you not notice?"
*I did. Just kept it quiet.*
"Want the bad news or the good news?"
"Bad news," Harry answered with no hesitation whatsoever.