Page 62 of Scarred Redemption

Isabel

There was something almost peaceful about meandering through a person’s home when he wasn’t present.

Almost.

Except with Maxsim, I couldn’t be certain what I’d find while roaming the hallways. In the crazier moments of being held prisoner, I’d devised very painful, even torturous ways the brooding Russian would deal with the jerks once he discovered their identities.

I’d been very creative, including having Maxsim keeping them shackled naked to chains in the basement of his home. Easy access for inflicting anguish whenever it suited him.

There was only one problem about my vicious, bloody, and very satisfying daydream.

The lovely three-story home had no basement. My whacked-out brain would need to create another imaginary dungeon. Since my admittance with Maxsim or maybe I should call it my permission to hunt and kill the people who’d hurt Mina, my mind had been working overtime with crazy, violent scenarios.

I still had to believe that I was doing so as a healing mechanism, much like Mina had her drawings.

The third floor held a library, guest room and bathroom, and a beautiful entertainment area with a deck. There was a large closet, although creatively disguised. Maybe it was meant as a hiding place. As I stood outside with a bottle of water in my hand, I could see over the dunes for at least a mile along the shoreline. I also had a bird’s-eye view of the men constantly walking the grounds, just like good soldiers, every one of them in formation.

I leaned against the exterior, ignoring the gorgeous Adirondak chairs. A part of me didn’t want to be seen, craving invisibility. Maybe I was still afraid this was the dream and I’d wake up back inside the prison. I’d asked myself more than once if being here was just another form of incarceration.

It was, except this was the true lap of luxury. Maxsim’s home was stunning yet comfortable because he catered to his child. I’d clued in on that early in our… relationship. I closed my eyes, laughing softly to myself.

I had a distinct feeling the question about getting married was going to come up again. I’d need to figure out how I honestly felt about it before then. The trouble was when I allowed the idea to form in my mind, I had mixed feeling, including being excited. Was that all because of feeling love for him, which bypassed all sense of reality?

The frustration was growing.

Every few seconds, a distorted image of the sketch Mina had drawn slipped into my mind. Every time, it appeared a little bit different and even the characteristics altered to suit a memory that was completely distorted.

God. I had to be in some kind of mental decline to even consider the drawing anywhere close to being accurate. I tapped my head on the side to rid my mind of the ugliness. It was time to concentrate on moving forward with life, not dwell in the horrors.

At least I’d have more of my clothes later today. Maybe that would help provide me with more of a sense of grounding. Thankfully, I’d left a few items at his house, most of which he’d purchased for me prior to being kidnapped.

Great. Now I was putting the event into a weird box as if that was perfectly normal. The trouble was that I could easily determine all acts of violence and almost every crime was perfectly normal. That should make me want to disappear where he couldn’t find me. And that just wasn’t what I was thinking.

Or what I wanted.

I spent a few quiet minutes inhaling the salty air, enjoying the way the breeze tickled my skin. All while my stomach remained in knots, just as nauseated if not more after forcing down toast and eggs. I’d been more concerned about ensuring that Mina ate something. She was still so exhausted, her pale complexion concerning me.

Speaking of which. It was time to check on Mina. She’d retreated to her room, likely because everything was familiar and nothing had been changed. Thank God for that.

As I headed inside, I realized the house was too quiet. Maybe music would help soothe both of us.

Her bedroom door was open and I could hear her voice when I was only a few feet away, even catching a glimpse of her. At first, I was terrified someone had somehow managed to get inside the house. However, seeing Shadow right by her side, my instinct told me to listen to what she was saying before interrupting her.

“I’m scared, Shadow. What if the bad men come back? What if they take my papa or Izzy away?” A sob caught in her throat much like one did in mine.

I walked closer, terrified she’d never fully recover. She was a child, not some enemy player in a horrible game. My anger flared all over again. So did my protective side.

My heart was heavier than it had been and I leaned against the wall, fighting tears for the umpteenth time since coming home. Home. Damn it. Being here with both Mina and Maxsim felt very much like I’d come home.

Which was why I’d do anything to protect them both. I backed away, faking a cough and allowing my footsteps to be heard. She hadn’t budged from where she sat on the floor, her small legs crossed and a sketchpad in her hand.

She’d placed a dozen stuffed animals around her in a circle. A circle of friends. Shadow, whose tail was currently thumping in happiness from seeing me, had his head on one of them. A dutiful little boy staying right by her side.

“Hi there,” I said. “Can I come in?”

When she shrugged, I sensed she was still in the middle of a memory. I moved beside her, choosing the floor instead of the bed. I didn’t say anything at first and she wasn’t actively drawing anything. Whatever she’d drawn before, she’d crumpled. Six times.

Shadow finally moved, his head hung low as he shifted so he could lie down between us. Dogs were so intelligent, so full of compassion and the need to give love and comfort. She didn’t react at first until he nudged her with his head.