Page 147 of Changing Rules

“Love you too.”

I put my phone on the bathroom countertop and apply mascara, smiling at my reflection. My skin is glowing, and this glint in my eye is new. I’m happy, content. But also, I’m loved. So loved it makes me dizzy.

The knock on the door sounds at the same time my phone buzzes.

As I head to the front door, I accept the call. “Hey.”

“I’m running a little behind,” Kaden says. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up. I’ll be there in about twenty. Okay?”

“Of course,” I say as I absentmindedly pull the door open. As it bounces off the wall, I freeze.

What the fuck?

Jake stands on the front porch, his feverish gaze fixed on me. The bags under his eyes and his uncombed hair make my hackles rise.

“Sure. See you in five.” I keep my voice even though my insides are rioting.

“I said twenty.”

“Yeah. Yeah, five minutes is perfect.”

“Is…is Xander home?” Kaden hedges.

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—”

Jake snaps the phone out of my hand and smashes the end button. He powers the device down and then slips it into his pocket.

I clench my jaw and hold his gaze. It’s two o’clock, which means there’s a good chance Mr. Jensen is out walking Pup. If he sees Jake, he’ll know I’m in trouble.

“Hey, Isabella,” Jake hisses, his lip curled. “Can I come in?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d stop by for a visit.” He moves closer, his massive frame completely blocking the doorway. “You blocked me on Instagram, blocked my number. You didn’t leave me many ways to contact you.”

“You should’ve taken the hint.” I take a step back and grip the door, ready to close it in his face. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. My friend will be here in five?—”

“It’s such a pity that I don’t care.”

He lunges forward, his fist making contact with my nose. I stumble back, spots flashing in my vision, my eyes welling with tears. With a gasp, I clasp my hands to my nose. The pain sends a wave of nausea rolling through me, yet I find the strength to yell, “Help! Mr. Jensen! Help!”

“Damned cunt.” Jake slams the door shut and stalks toward me. “Does it hurt, Isabella?” He grabs my wrists and tears my hands away from my face. “Does it fucking hurt?”

“Go away,” I grit through my teeth.

He wraps his hand around my throat and pushes me against the wall. “I asked you a question.” He squeezes harder. “Does it fucking hurt, Isabella?”

“Mr. Jensen!” I yell again, thrashing against Jake, clutching at his arm, digging my fingernails into his skin.

“You’re so fucking dumb.” He laughs, and the menacing sound sends a chill through me. With a yank, he pulls me forward and slams me against the wall again, this time causing my neck to snap back and my head to make contact. “Shut the fuck up, bitch.”

Pain ricochets through me, and my knees give out.

But I don’t fall. He keeps me pinned to the wall with one hand before he yanks me forward again and fists the hair at the back of my head. I whimper, clutching at his arm again. He forces me onto my knees, then onto my stomach, digging his knee into my back and making it hard to breathe. He’s twice my size and in peak physical condition. It’s impossible for me to free myself.

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