"Tell me you are making some kind of stupid joke," Isabella said as she felt an unstable shiver in her legs.
"It is no joke. Your father is-"
"I heard you already!" she exclaimed, her eyes darting in confusion. Without seeing his proof, she sort of believed him. It made sense a bit. Her father's death explained his prolonged silence.
But... why?
"Here."
As she received the images Charles stretched toward her, her legs failed her and she hit the floor before Charles could help her.
When she flipped through the photos which revealed all- her father's body, his death certificate, his funeral- she wondered why she was kept in the dark.
According to the pictures, he died a year ago.
Uncle Ben had been lying to her as well. According to the pictures, he also attended the funeral. But he said nothing to her, he just kept assuring her that her father would someday call.
Isabella was resisting the urge to laugh at her life. Her sad life. The reason she was in a damned marriage was dead and she had no idea.
And, the man who knew how much she craved freedom from her shackles said nothing to her but made her feel slightly okay about her sorry life.
Her life was sorry indeed.
As she looked up at Charles who had leaned against the wall and watched her silently, she asked, "Did you come with your car?"
His short nod was all she needed and she was on the way to her godfather's place, her whole body screaming silently.
Almost an hour and thirty minutes later, Isabella was parking Charles's BMW in the little space that was available in front of the comfortable-looking suburban-ish building which was alike in structure to the other houses that formed the community tucked inside a part of New Jersey.
From outside, thanks to the little peep his curtains offered, Isabella could tell that Uncle Ben was in.
Without wasting a second, she rang his doorbell. After another second she rang it again...The man had to know that his visitor was an impatient one.
"Why... Isabella." No doubt, he was surprised to see her standing by his doorstep.
"Hello, Uncle Ben." Isabella did not wait for his invitation as she helped herself into the house.
"Why... You should have mentioned that you will be coming over when you called earlier. This is quite unexpected."
Her eyes roamed the room as she walked into his scanty living room. Not much had changed but his way of dressing. Thankfully, he gave up the funky lifestyle for a look that suited his age.
"I did not think I would have a reason to be here either." She swiftly turned to face him. "Where is my father, Uncle Ben?"
"Uh..." His palms danced together as his eyes narrowed. "He should be at home. I left him there after he came back from work."
Isabella sighed. "He is at home. He went to work," she repeated to herself.
"Y-yes, he did. I made sure to remind him that you called though."
Isabella's hands just had to clench into a fist.
He was telling her lies, right to her face. It was taking every ounce of leftover patience in her to not go on a shouting spree.
After a deep breath was released, she finally said, "Why are you lying to me?"
He took a step forward. "What do you mean?"
Isabella felt her knees shake again. Reaching into the small bag she had found in Charles's car, she wondered what the man who was looking at her like she was acting like a potential mental hospital patient was thinking.
"Here, explain this."
He reached for the pictures and when his eyes settled on the first one, the furrow on his face gave Isabella the response she needed.
"Isabella..." he whispered into the room as his legs failed him and sent him almost staggering into the wall behind him.
"You have been lying to me, Uncle. And, that is one thing I don't understand. So, why?"
"Isabella... I..."
She did not let him continue. "Why did you leave me in the dark when you of all people know how much I would love to leave the murdering position my father kept me in because of his debts?"
Uncle Ben dropped the pictures onto the floor, his face now wearing a rather serious look. "It would have made no difference. Even in death, your father continues to owe that debt and there is no coming out of it."
Isabella frustratingly grabbed the side of her head as her feet became restless. "I want to come out of it. I want to freaking come out of this payment I am making. It is killing me, Uncle Ben."
"I am afraid that is not possible, Isabella."
"Well, I guess I will just have to make it possible because I am fed up of living a life that is not mine."
Uncle Ben sighed again. "I repeat, it is not possible. If you leave that Manifold man, he is going to come after you and when he catches you, he will become very, very rough."
Rough.
Isabella scoffed almost loudly at that word. She definitely wasn't going to wait around for Gabriel to use her again like a rag.
She was not going to let her father drive her around even in death.
And... speaking of deaths...
Isabella's raging yet calculating eyes traveled back to the man in the room. "Why didn't you tell me that my father was dead? Is my life so terrible, that denying me such information seemed like a good thing to do?"
"I did it to protect you."
An amused look took over her face. "Protect me? Really? Protect me?" The shift in his eyes showed how much the glare that had already taken over her face affected him.
"Listen to me, no one, absolutely no one, for the past goddamn years I have spent in that hell has ever protected me. Only me! I am the only one that has done a good job when it comes to that and starting from this moment, I am going to be doing more than that. I will be setting myself free."
"Isabella, I told you..."
"I don't care whether my father owes the entire Jupiter money, I am no longer interested in being his mode of payment. And trust me, I am going to work my way out of this one."
He ran his hand through his greyish, full hair whose style was quite confusing. "Isabella..."
She reached for the pictures on the floor and made for the door in no time. But before she stepped out, she turned to say, "Uncle, if you want to protect me, support me leaving Gabriel, then I would know for sure that you care about me."
A breeze blew past as she stepped outside.
And, no kidding, she needed the cool air to calm her sweating system. In fact, she needed tons of chilled juice at that moment.
But that was not possible.
For her next stop, she would be going to the war front.
~
"Gabriel!" She hit the locked entrance door again as the loud music from inside devoured her shouts. Not bothering to stress herself by wondering what was going on in the house, she continued to bang the iron door with the little stone she had found around.
"Gabriel, open the door!"
The door opened. "H-hey are you the s-stripper?" The drunk, fat, shirtless dude in front of her raked her with his uncoordinated eyesight. "Wh-why are you not dressed?"
"Where is Gabriel?" Isabella was about to push her way into the house
"Ga-" he belched loudly, Isabella instantly jumped back at the stench that came with his release. "Sorry, I ate something from the kitchen." Isabella was keeping the urge to not throw up all over the man, so she just watched him as he tried to maintain balance and form his words. "Gabriel!" the man suddenly howled.
"What? Isn't that the stripper?" When Gabriel showed up and saw Isabella, he let out a little hiss before he stepped out. "Hey buddy, could you go and check on those ladies inside?"
"B-but I should let the stripper in," the man whined as Gabriel kept patting his bare chest.
"That is my wife, Tim. She is my personal stripper." Isabella shook her head.
"Ugh... so I don't get to see her strip." The drunk man was such a baby.
"No, you don't." Gabriel pushed him inside. "Off you go now."
When it was sure that the man-baby had entered, Gabriel closed the door and faced Isabella whose arms were crossed to do the job of keeping her aching fists to herself.
"Why are you here at this time of the day?" he asked.
"Did you know that my father died?"
"Yeah," he shrugged. "Didn't you know?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
" Do I look like a newscaster? Why would I stress myself with such rubbish?" Isabella's eyes dashed to the side as she sucked in some air. "Did you bring some money? I need some for this party."
"This one with the strippers?" A smile that felt like just the right amount of creepy took over her face. "Of course, I brought money for this party. I really enjoy it when you spend my hard-earned money on women, gambling, and parties."
A brief pause occurred. But Gabriel broke it when he asked, "So, where is the money?" Isabella was swift to reply with her fist landing hard on his nose. "What the hell bitch!" he exclaimed as he held his nose.
"Oh I am sorry, I thought you were asking for my money."
"What..." He removed his hand to check if he was bleeding. "What on earth is wrong with you?" He stood straight and made for her. As soon as he grabbed her tightly by the arms, she disengaged him with a brutal kick in his nuts.
"You bitch!" he howled as he took steps back to her viewing pleasure. "What do you think you are doing?"
She walked to him, grabbed him by the collar of his Hawaiian shirt, and made him stand straight against the wall. Then, she stared right into his eyes which were still silently and she said, "I am leaving you, Gabriel."
"Wh- what do you mean?"
"You heard me, Gabriel."
"You are joking right?"
"Do I look like I am joking?"
A small smile appeared on his lip. Then, it grew into a burst of muffled laughter which went on to burst into full craziness. "You want to leave me." He laughed maniacally. "This bitch thinks she can leave me."
Isabella's eyes narrowed. "I am leaving you," she repeated in case he did not hear her properly.
"You..." he growled as he grabbed her by the neck, twirled, and had her against the wall the next second. His breath trickled down her neck as he inhaled her scent like a psycho. "You are going nowhere. You are mine until I say otherwise."
With every ounce of strength inside her, Isabella broke out of his hold and made a quick run away from him. When she made it to Charles's car which she considered a safe distance, she faced Gabriel and cried into the air, "Listen to me Gabriel Manifold, I will no longer be your wife. I am leaving you!"
His laughter came louder and scarier. "My dear wife, we shall see about that." He took a few steps forward, she grabbed the door handle. "Be a darling this minute and enter this house. Once you do, I will overlook this drama you are acting."
"I said, I am leaving you!"
"Once you enter that car and leave this premises, consider yourself my enemy."
Isabella found herself chuckling. With her middle finger directed at the bastard a few distances from her, she said, "You have always been my enemy, Gabriel. I have always hated you."
"Well then, bitch," he picked a flower vase that was laying around and smashed it on the floor. "This is war."
She surprisingly wasn't scared of those words. And without giving any fucks, she entered the car and drove towards what she would call a new chapter in her life.