Everything Isn't As It Seems

Chapter Twelve

"You're awake I see." The man's voice matched his sinister face, a long scar ran from the side of his eyebrow to the center of his cheek. "A shame really. I hate breaking promises." She couldn't help the curiosity this piqued within her. Promise? "You are a curious one. That much is obvious. He begged me to leave you alone, you and your little family I suppose. It was a man's dying wish and I saw no harm in giving him that small bit of peace, how could I have possibly foreseen your unrelenting quest for the truth?" Isabel ground her teeth once again. It was like he was placing the blame for his actions on her and although his words were almost kind in a diplomatic sense, she could hear the threatening tone behind them.

"Who begged you?" Was he talking about her brother? Surely...

"Why your brother of course, my dear girl." Isabel could tangibly feel her anger now. Had he really just practically confessed to murdering her brother?

"What did you do to him?" She spoke through her teeth. His eyes darkened, a shadow crossed over his face making him appear impossibly more cruel.

"That much, you already know." Anger had completely taken over rational thought. Isabel was on her feet in a matter of moments, a pin from her hair in her left hand. By the time Caywood had crossed the room she had freed her right hand, which was enough to punch him square in the mouth as hard as she could, screaming obstinacies. Her language switched between English and Gaelic, then back and forth. She could see the slight amount of shock on his face. Caywood's eyes flashed, his hands grabbed her wrists most painfully and he slammed her back against the wall. The shackle clicked back around her wrist, but his presence didn't move. Isabel glowered at him, daring him to make a move.

"Oy!" Max's sound of protest cut through the silence. Caywood grinned manically and pulled away from her, smoothing the front of her wrinkled dress with his hands in a nearly gentleman-like fashion.

"I've been waiting for you to awake, doctor."

"Get your hands off of her!" Isabel was a little surprised at Max's outburst. Caywood raised an eyebrow at him, taking a step toward him.

"Did you say something, Doctor?" Caywood's voice was menacing. Max's face darkened and Isabel knew he was going to repeat his words. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Her antagonism had clearly already angered the man and she feared he wouldn't be as gentle with Max. Max either didn't see her or simply ignored her warning, because he repeated himself.

"I said, do not touch her." This was not going to go over well. Caywood was no more than a few steps away from her so she did the first thing that came to her mind. Using the shackles to her advantage, she launched herself off the wall with her feet, swinging her legs outward with all her weight on her wrists. The balls of her feet made contact with the side of his head, sending him sideways, his head connecting with the floor with a sickening crack. There was no landing gracefully in her position, her momentum was stopped abruptly by smacking into the cement wall. She straightened herself as quickly as her throbbing body would allow, pulling another pin from her hair, her anger turning on Max.

"Are you insane? Provoking the man like that, get yourself killed you will." By the time she had finished lecturing she had freed her right hand and was moving on to her left. Max pushed the amazed expression from his face and gave her a look that called her a hypocrite.

"You're one to talk." Isabel paused momentarily after springing the lock on her left hand.

"How much of that were you awake for?"

"Right about the time when you punched him in the face and screamed at him. What was that, Gaelic?" Isabel pursed her lips, as if thinking, as she crossed the room to him, undoing his shackles just as she had her own. She gestured to the unconscious body on the floor.

"He is here?" Max took a step toward the door, then turned back toward Isabel. "How do you know?" Isabel clenched her jaw, her nostrils flared as she remembered the awful screaming.

"I heard his screams. They were muffled, but close." Max studied her face for a moment, but Isabel cleared her expression and headed for the door. "We need to hurry, they be no way to keep him silent once he awakes." She gave a small smile, trying to play down the seriousness of the situation they found themselves in. He gave a small patronizing smile.

Max stood with his back to the wall next to the door, Isabel shoulder to shoulder with him. She took a deep breath. "Ready?" She gave a slight nod and he turned the handle, opening the door just a crack. Max slid silently out of the doorway and Isabel followed, just as silent. Her fingers tightened around the handles, sweat coating her palms. She made a slight noise with her throat, gaining Max's attention, and nodded toward a door that looked similar to the one they had just went through at the end of the hall. He gave a nod and stepped around her, heading toward the door. Isabel walked backward, slowly making her way after him and keeping an eye out. Max tried the handle, locked. Isabel went for the pin in her hair, but before she had the chance to pull it out, he lifted his good leg and kicked the door with such force that the wood around the handle splintered. The door shuttered on old hinges and banged against the cement wall behind it. That wouldn't go unnoticed. The two rushed in at the same time. The room was nearly identical to the one they were held in, cement walls, wooden table, shackles and all. Except of course the body of Beau Scott on his knees in the corner. It was a heart shattering sight. His white skin even paler than normal with the blood loss. His arms were spread wide and shackled above his head. His head sagged over his chest, his damp curls obscuring his face. The air of the room changed subtly. Three large men stood in the doorway. There would be more coming soon. "I'll get him. Hold them off Max."