Page 123 of Isabella

I grab ahold of it, knowing exactly what it is, and now it’s all coming together for me.

My fucking girl.

“Feelings will always cloud your judgment, Niccolò. I’ve said it from the beginning,” my dad says as he paces back and forth likehe’sthe one trying to reign inhisemotions.

“I don’t think they’ve clouded mine too much,” I say. “If anything, they’ve enhanced my judgment.” I need to keep him talking to distract him long enough so I can cut through the zip ties around my wrists.

The angle at which I have the knife makes it difficult to get any kind of leverage to put pressure on the ties. With a sharp blade, it shouldn’t be too difficult to cut through, but the position I’m in is making it fucking difficult.

Think, Nicco.

I start fidgeting with the knife, lifting it up and down to see if I can get any friction against the plastic ties to hopefully snap them open. I’m so focused on picturing in my head exactly what I’m doing that I don’t hear a word my dad says until I feel the snap of one of the zip ties being broken. My eyes widen, and I quickly move the knife to the other zip tie.

“Well, Niccolò?” my dad barks, causing my attention to snap to him. He stands there giving me an expectant look.

“I’m sorry?” I say, picking up my speed with the knife.

I need to fucking hurry.

My dad’s face heats when I ask him to repeat his question.

“You know what,” he says. “You want to play games? Fine, let’s play a game.”

Shit.

My heart rate begins to pick up.

“Mauricio,” he yells. “Get over here and pick your favorite knife up off the floor. Niccolò’s decided he wants to play games, so we’re going to indulge him and start playing back.”

Wait a minute.

Mauricio saunters over from behind me, and while I internally panic because I know exactly what my dad means byplaying games, I also realize Mauricio isexactlywhere I need him to be to take them both down.

Mauricio and my dad are still holding their guns, but they’re aimed at the floor.

“Choose your favorite knife and then move the girl so Niccolò has a perfect view of you carving up that smooth skin of hers,” my dad says.

“Nicco,” Isabella breathes out, and the worry in her voice seeps into my skin, making my blood boil with rage. I haven’t been able to break through the last zip tie with the knife, but I know this’ll be my only shot at catching them off guard.

Knowing I have little time, I pull my wrists as hard as possible, fucking praying the knife cut through enough for me to break through the final remnants.

The hard plastic cuts through my skin, and I grind my teeth to keep from hissing out in pain, but after a few seconds, the faint popping of the plastic breaking sounds, and a speck of relief washes through me.

I whip my gaze to my dad whose eyes are on Mauricio as he bends over to pick up a knife, and that’s when I make the split-second decision that could be the biggest mistake of my life.

With my upper body still taped to the chair, I push myself up to as much of a stand as possible and hurl myself at Mauricio who’s closest to me, slamming into him as hard as possible with the back of the chair.

Just as I’d hoped, the force of the impact splinters the old wood. The pain hits me hard, but Isabella’s scream pulls me out of it. I don’t have time to waste recovering from the fall.

I kick my foot out, making contact with my dad. He falls to the ground, groaning and hitting his head on the edge of the table on his way down. His gun slides across the cement floor.

Rolling over, I push myself off Mauricio, my balance hindered by part of the chair still attached to me.

I glance over to my dad, and he’s barely moving, so I bring my attention back to Mauricio who’s grunting on the floor but still very much alive.

Turning around, I use what’s left of the wooden seat and slam my weight down onto his face, smashing it in. His muffled cries are subdued by the chair, and I do it again and again and again until the noise has deceased from within him. I’m panting by the end of it.

Still strapped to the chair, I grab a knife that’s poking out from under Mauricio’s leg and rush to cut the duct tape when a deep voice sounds from behind me.

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