Limbo [h.s]

3

Cage The Elephant - Cigarette Daydreams (reverbed)

Chapter3 - Isabel's POV

I answered his call an hour ago.

My father needed me to come into his office for an important last minute meeting about last nights mission.

Apparently I hadn't been discreet enough, which in retrospect I hadn't.

The one night I'd decided to be sloppy with the cover up because my body still ached from the early morning activities that Michael had inflicted upon me had also been the one night my father decided to observe and critique my work ethic.

Waltzing through the front door of my childhood house should've brought back endless amounts of joy and nostalgic moments, instead I react like always and feel my body tense at the sight of the light brown walls that coat the inside of this house.

It's just a reflex at this point, knowing what's about to happen as soon as I close those office doors behind me, I know I've solidified my foreseeable future.

It's not like I haven't tried to stop it from happening over the years, I have. He's just very good at showing me different ways to give up, so over time I just kind of stopped fighting him and let it happen.

"Why didn't you clean up your mess from last night. Honestly Isabella you're getting sloppy" he shakes his head at me disapprovingly.

"I thought the security guards were gonna cover for me like last time." I say not looking up from my shaky hands.

Owning and running a private business where people can do whatever the fuck they want has its perks.

If someone does something illegal, the security team notifies my father. He then uses that information against them as blackmail to do sleezy jobs for him or if he's in the mood and wants some extra cash he demands hush money in return for his silence.

"That's not what I pay them for." He grunts back instantly slamming his hand down on the mahogany wood of his desk, standing up and stalking his way over to me.

Crowding back as much as I can towards the hard cushion on my chair I try to make myself look as small as possible. He hates it when people don't look coy around him. Makes him think he's not in control of the situation.

As he creeps closer towards me I inhale sharply, practically tasting the alcohol on my tongue from his breath.

"Stand-up" he demands, forcefully gripping the flesh of my upper arm and yanking me towards him like he's done so many times before.

***

Wiping away the tears that stained my cheeks I force myself to stand up.

The shower floor was getting colder by the second even though I had the water temperature turned all the way to the left. The scorching heat had turned into an icy sting after a while, notifying me that I'd reached my limit.