Temere Mortis

Chapter Eighteen

"Isla wake the hell up!"

Emma's not-so-dulcet tones awoke Isla the next morning. That, and the loud thumping on the door as Emma tried to rouse her flatmate from a deep sleep.

"I don't know what you drank last night, but I really need to talk to you!"

Isla groaned and rolled onto her back. She tugged the covers high up to her chin and felt herself sink deeper into the memory foam mattress.

"How could you Isla!"

"Shut up," Isla demanded weakly from her bed.

"I knew you were awake," Emma cried triumphantly, forcing the door open with a large swing. She ran into the room and that was when Isla saw that she was crying. Not delicate, reserved crying but openly sobbing. Tears cantered down her cheeks and her face was red with emotion.

"I can't believe you Isla," she accused the confused girl in the bed. "I actually thought you'd come around."

"What are you talking about?" Isla demanded, sitting up in bed. "What do you want?"

"I need you to be honest with me about something," Emma requested, bluntly. "And don't get all annoyed and defensive like you usually do." Isla nodded, shocked. "What did you tell Max about the party?"

"Nothing," Isla admitted, immediately. "I know it looks bad, but I have no idea how he found out." Isla didn't want to inform her that Max had followed them there. It would only lead to more questions that Isla didn't have the answers to yet.

"Forgive me Isla, but I don't quite believe you," Emma told her brutally, looking surprisingly ashamed. Isla bowed her head sadly as Emma continued to cry.

"Look, I know I don't have the best track record with this group Emma," she replied shrewdly. "But I genuinely didn't tell him about it. It was just as illegal for me to be there as it was for you".

Emma appeared stricken for a moment before shaking her head, eradicating her doubtful thoughts.

"They're shutting us down," she notified Isla brutally. "And it's all your fault." Isla gasped, her eyes widening with alarm.

"What?" she gaped, stupidly.

"It's exactly what I said, Isla," Emma tutted impatiently. She pointed a finger at her flatmate accusingly. "Your psycho boyfriend Max must have told someone."

Isla was appalled; she had no idea Max was capable of such a thing. She especially never would have thought that he would play into the government's hands like that. His behaviour last night had been erratic and concerning, but she hadn't imagined that he would try to hurt everyone in the building; his attentions had seemed solely focused on Isla.

"I'm so sorry, Emma," Isla said hurriedly, hands pulling harshly at her hair. "This is all my fault." Emma watched her silently before speaking.

"Who are you mixed up with?" she asked Isla, imploringly. "Why did he do this? I might never see Megan again," she spoke the last part impossibly quietly, heartbreak in every word. Isla shook her head mutely, falling onto her back.

"I guess I have no idea," she told her friend sincerely. "What do we do?" Emma glared at her with extreme hatred.

"I don't know why you're talking of 'we'," she spat in disgust. "I don't want anything to do with you".

If Emma had said that to Isla weeks ago she would have been overjoyed, she would have leapt to her feet and danced merrily. Now however, Isla panicked.

"What?" she asked her searchingly. "Please Emma, I had nothing to do with it."

"You told him!" Emma cried. Her face if it was possible, got even redder. "And now they're going to take my sister away".