Isabella had spent the rest of the morning clearing up the glass David had smashed, and taking a long, warm bath to try to get some heat into her. Since yesterday, a cold had settled in her bones and she was struggling to keep warm. She knew why though; David had been on a much shorter fuse recently and he was lashing out at her more frequently than she was used to. Her arms, and the rest of her body, was starting to look like that of a drug addict or someone with haemophilia, as bruises covered her like a map or patchwork. She sank deeper into the water, as a feeling of grief threatened to overwhelm her. Grief for the life she could've had if she'd had more luck, if her mother had been more like Tatum's, if she'd made similar choices to her sister. There were angry tears coming out now as well; anger at her father and the impact his behaviour had on her mother's and her life; anger at her mother; anger at her sister for having been stronger; anger at herself for settling and letting David treat her the way he did. But she was also angry because she knew that this feeling of angry determination, to make changes and stand up for herself more, wouldn't last. She was too tired, too scared, to stand up for herself. There was a definite amount of fear present too, not just for what David would do next, but that this life was the best she could get, that somehow it was the only way she deserved.
"Izzy, you home?" her sister's voice interrupted the pitiful voice in her head.
"I'm in the bath," the brunette called back after she'd wiped away her tears and cleared her throat in an attempt to sound normal.
"Lunch? I'm starvin'," Tatum called back as she went into the kitchen to find something to eat.
"Sure," Isabella answered and even managed a small chuckle. She'd noticed in the last week or so that the redhead seemed to have moved past the morning sickness for the most part and was starting to want more food. Carefully, she hoisted herself out of the bath and wrapped her towel around herself to dry off. She patted herself dry as gently as she could and made a quick dash for her bedroom, hoping her sister wouldn't see the state of her body; the sooner she could get her sweats and baggy hoodie on, the better.
"Oh, there you are," Tatum said when her sister finally came down, as she'd already started emptying the fridge to make herself a feast. "You okay, after earlier?" she asked, seeing the clothes she was wearing and the way she was holding herself.
"Yeah, just a bit stiff," the brunette nodded, taking a seat at the bar, watching what her sister was putting together for lunch. "That combination looks awful," she commented, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
"No way, it looks amazing," the redhead disagreed; pickles and relish on a ham, turkey, chicken and cheese sandwich was her idea of food heaven right now.
"So, any more pregnancy symptoms now you're no longer throwing up? Any cravings?" Isabella asked, watching in half-disgust, half-wonder as her sister started eating this doorstop of a sandwich.
"Hm-mm," Tatum made as she shook her head, her mouth full. The brunette couldn't help but laugh at her sister's face, the cheese and relish slowly dripping down her chin.
"You're disgusting," the Colombian laughed, "but so beautiful." Tatum frowned at her, wiping her chin, not getting what was so funny. "Never mind," Isabella laughed again, pulling the cucumber and an apple towards her.
"Not so tense man, loosen those arms. Feet at shoulders' width apart," Aaron reacted when he saw how David was punching at his boxing bag.
"I'm sorry, I guess I am tense. Tatum's such a pain in the ass," his new friend responded, shaking his arms out before clenching his fists again and moving his feet apart slightly. He was in borrowed kit, as he'd come over in his shirt and jeans, expecting them to play video games again. But Aaron had already been getting ready to have a gym work out, so he leant his guest some gear.
"Well I could'a told ya that," the Miller chuckled, aiming a hard punch to the other bag. "Are her symptoms gettin' worse yet?" he asked curiously; he was still intending to be the one to spread the news of her pregnancy, but he needed to know that her condition was becoming more obvious.
"No, but her attitude is," David grunted as he laid into the bag now. "She's just… always on my case," he added, and he couldn't help imagining that the bag was his girlfriend's sister. He was pretty sure he wouldn't feel guilty if he ever did lay hands on her, not like with Isabella. He never wanted to hurt her, it always just happened.
"Here you guys are," Sean interrupted their conversation, as he and the Sheriff filed into the work out room. His brother's guest barely looked around, instead concentrating on punching the shit out of the punching bag. "Geez, David's really goin' to town," the younger Miller added to his friend.
"Yeah, not sure I want him to get any better at punchin', to be honest," Austin couldn't help commenting back.
"What did you say?" David reacted angrily, as he whirled around to face the sheriff. The guy had been on his case ever since he'd come to town and he didn't care for it, especially given that he seemed to have some history with Isabella that he didn't know about.
"I said, I don't want you to get any better at punchin'," Austin repeated his comment. He knew he shouldn't antagonise him, as he couldn't lay a finger on him if he ever wanted to be able to arrest him. But since Tatum had come to him with her concerns, he just wanted any excuse to punch him himself.
"Austin," Aaron said warningly, already figuring out that his friend was about to repeat his previous accusations of hitting Isabella.
"No, it's okay. I want to hear what he's got to say," David said, stepping closer towards the sheriff. There was a small part of him that wanted to rile the law enforcer up, to get him to throw the first punch, so he couldn't get done for hitting a cop.
"I don't trust you and I don't like men who think they can beat up women," Austin said, righting himself to his full height as he stepped in closer as well. The new guy was actually slightly taller than he was, but the Sheriff had more muscles and was used to making himself more imposing as part of his job.
"None of us do, right David?" the older Miller said now, trying to defuse the situation a bit.
"Obviously," his new friend responded, not taking his eyes off of the sheriff. He was not going to blink first.
"Sure, you don't," the Sheriff said sarcastically, crossing his arms across his chest to make his biceps bulge menacingly. Austin looked a little confused when, instead of looking worried or scared, the guy in front of him smirked. "What?" he almost snapped.
"I think I know what your problem is," David said, still smirking as he took him in.
"Yeah, I'm looking at it."
"You're jealous. You can't stand the fact that she belongs to me, can you?" he goaded him now, pride seeping into his voice as if she was a prize bull or vintage car that he owned.
"Dude," Sean said warningly, his hand grabbing his friend by the shoulder when he noticed that Austin had balled his fists and was about to move forward to pummel the guy.
"I knew it!" the city boy almost exclaimed triumphantly. "You want her, but you can't have her, she's mine!" he continued, almost becoming like an excited little child taunting him.
The Sheriff took a deep breath to steady himself, especially when he saw a look he couldn't read on Aaron's face; he wasn't sure what was up with his friend, but he didn't like the look of his expression. That expression usually meant trouble. "There's nothing going on between me and Isabella," he said, to put the record straight; none of them needed to know that things had happened between them before, or that he did indeed want them to happen again. "I just really, really don't like you." He felt his friend's hand tighten its grip on his shoulder.
"Come on, man. We should go," Sean said now, gently pulling him back.
"I'm fine," Austin said, shrugging his hand off of him. "Just, watch yourself David. I've got my eyes on you," he warned him now, wisely jabbing the air with his fingers instead of the guy's chest; if David was hurting Isabella, he would catch him out. "Let's go," he turned to the younger Miller and stormed out of the gym.