Nothing On You

Chapter Seventeen

Izzie's POV

The dank smell of wet mold corrupts my first conscious breath. With another the putrid scent of rotting trash enters my lungs. I cough. My chest instantly feels like it's going to cave in, crushing my most important internal organs.

It smells like something died in here...

I focus all the strength and energy I can muster on opening my eyes but my head is throbbing so hard I can't think straight. My body aches as I push past the pain, using my arms to sit up.   I feel around blindly on the surface I'm laying on.

Cold rusting metal meets my fingertips along with the chipping away of paint that crumbles at the touch. I try to lift my hands to my face but they are roughly tugged back down by tight heavy chains around my wrists. I don't know how I didn't notice them before.  

I lean down, brushing my hair from my eyes and rub them before I open them; they adjust to the low light. I'm in a room with only one door and windows positioned up by the rafters of the ceilings. Chains, very much like to ones I'm bound with are hanging from metal beams that criss-cross the lower section of rafters, holding the large dim lights tens of feet above my head. I look up and close my eyes.

"Dear Lord Jesus," I whisper. "I pray that you will will put your angels around me in protection, from whom ever may try to harm me. I thank you for keeping a watchful eye on me and I just pray that you will send someone to come and get me. Only you know why this has happened and even though Natalie might have caused this I pray that you bless her; Thank you Father, Amen."

Every breath I breathe is painful, throbbing racking my whole body with pain. I lift my shirt just enough to see the lower section of my ribs. There is a purple-ish black mark, the size of my fist that seems to be growing, spreading up my side.  

Tears crawl down my cheeks as I pull my legs to my chest wrapping my arms around them, I hide my face. The one feeling that I've been denying--- the thought that I've been trying to force myself to dismiss creeps back into my mind.  

I want nothing more to be with him, in his arms. Bathed in his soft kisses.   "Bruno." I whisper. My chest heaves and all the tears come.

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Bruno's POV

With the studio door closed behind me, I make my way down the hall exiting the building. I drive my car to my apartment complex and park it in it's usual spot before I head up to my apartment. Tossed on the counter my keys slide to a stop. I shrug my coat off and hang it by the door. G meets me. 

"Hey boy," I say petting him feebly. He trots into the living room, laying down beside the couch. 

After showering I throw on sweats and then put some left overs into the microwave, heating them up for dinner. Just as I am about to sit down my phone rings. I rush and answer it. "Hello?" 

"Good, I got you." Phil starts. I sigh. "I know a guy who's having a party tonight, down at the lounge; let's go to it."

"No thanks man, I'm not up for that tonight."

"You sure? All of the guys are going." he asks, I can hear the concern in his voice. Without even telling him, he already knows. 

"Yeah, I'm staying in."

"Alright, see you." he says.

"Yeah." I reply before hanging up the phone. I put my phone on the coffee table and fall back into the couch. Lazily, I pick up the remote and start channel surfing. I land on Criminal Minds, instantly remember how Iz and I would sit and watch episode after episode, totally invested in each. How she would, talk to the tv, aggravated or happy with the characters. Just watching her was amusing, the way she looked at me, the glow in her eyes; how she would cook for me even when I didn't expect or ask her to. The way she would bat her crazy--long eyelashes each time she blinked, how peaceful it was sleep next to her. I remember the day I met her like it was yesterday, how she and Cristina met Phil and I backstage. All the pictures we took together that day. That party that I invited them to, I remember it all.