Page 34 of Reclaiming Izabel

“Whassup,” Marcus said.

The ginger-haired man’s smile was shark-like. “We need both of you to come with us. Quietly.” Though the man was dressed like a homie, his military bearing gave him away.

Marcus puffed a derisive laugh. “No can do, bro.” He cupped my bicep and backed us away. “Whoever hired you guys to intimidate the developers can go fuck themselves.”

Ginger-Hair lowered his gaze to Marcus’s side where I figured he had his hand on his gun. Ginger-Hair’s companion grew alert and moved his hand, likely to reach for his firearm.

Shit.

“There’s no need for that, Marcus,” Ginger-Hair said softly.

My friend froze.

“Who the fuck are you guys?” Marcus growled.

Ginger-Hair shrugged. “If you come with us, we can tell you. I can’t believe you’d put Drake’s wife in danger.”

Indignation dissolved my fear and fueled my bravado. “Tell my husband he can go fuck himself. Marcus and I have a job to do.”

I spun around and marched off, expecting the men to respect my wishes. I couldn’t believe this was how Drake intended to tell Marcus he was alive! Scaring us like this. What if Marcus reacted and someone got shot?

A scuffle erupted behind me, and I turned in time to see Marcus taken down by Ginger-Hair and his cohort.

“What are you guys doing?” I shrieked.

A hand clamped over my mouth, and I was yanked against a hard chest.

Marcus’s eyes widened at the man behind me before Ginger-Hair stuck a needle in his neck.

“Sorry it has to be this way, Iza,” Drake’s voice murmured in my ear before he half-lifted, half-dragged me in between two houses and bundled me into a waiting van. Drake got in beside me. Ginger-Hair and his partner carried Marcus. A few of Glen Ford residents watched the scene unfold, but just like they were taught to do to survive in the rough neighborhood, they turned away.

Marcus was dumped in the back of the van, and his head hit the side of the vehicle.

“Be careful!” I yelled, then spun on Drake. “Why are you doing this? Why are you treating Marcus like this? Hasn’t he been through enough?”

Drake’s eyes were cold. “He has a lot to answer for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Can’t tell you yet.”

A derisive huff escaped my lips. “Figures.”

“But I will.”

“When? Will that be your story after another three years of pretending you’re dead?”

The van pulled away from the curb and sped off to the back streets away from the development.

“Enough!” Drake growled. “If you can’t forgive me for what I’ve done, there’s nothing else I can do.”

A feeling akin to fear and panic gripped my heart. “What do you mean?”

Drake sighed. “If you can’t trust me again, then maybe it’s best if we stay separated for a while instead of tearing each other apart like this.”

Oh! He was giving up? Didn’t I have the right to come to terms with the fact that I’d been lied to and made to suffer for three years? Tears burned the back of my eyes. A stricken look replaced the anger on Drake’s face. “Iza…”

“Maybe it’s for the best.” My chin tipped up, feeling stubborn, holding on to my indignation, my fury.How dare he? “Better yet, don’t change your name back to Drake Maddox and we won’t have to separate or divorce or anything. Let the dead stay buried.”

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