The second Peter put all his focus and weight on holding down my thrashing legs, I noticed that he was holding my thighs down and that’s when I reached over him and yanked his shirt up his back and over his head, blinding him and trapping his upper arms.
“Motherfucker!” he yelled as he let go of my legs and tried to right his shirt.
I crawled backwards and fought to get back on my feet. Unfortunately, he was faster than I thought he’d be and by the time I was on my feet running towards the bedroom, this time he was already behind me, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “You fucking bitch!”
“Fuck you!” And it wasn’t until I spew those words out at him that I realized I hadn’t been using all my tools. All of the sudden I started screaming. “Help! Somebody help me!”
“Shut up you stupid cunt,” Peter hissed right before that universal slap slammed across my face.
It hurt like a sonofabitch, but it wasn’t hard enough to daze me, so I brought my knee up and went for the family jewels.
Except the fucker saw it coming and blocked it.
He still had a hold of my hair in one hand, so it was both my hands against his one. I started trying to gouge his eyes out when I heard the tear of fabric from my shirt.
I was not going to let this little piece of shit rape me.
I kept scream like a lunatic, and then the second he let go of my hair, both his hands came up to grab my breasts and that was the distraction I needed. He was so fixation on my chest he didn’t see me coming forward at him.
I butthead the shit out the motherfucker and I heard the crunch of the cartilage on his nose. “Ow! Ow! Oh my God!” His hand flew up to his nose and I ran around him to the front door and I almost made it.
Never underestimate crazy.
I got the deadbolt unlocked, but I was dragged back by my hair before I could get the doorknob unlocked. “You fucking bitch! I’m going to fucking kill you!” His strength hadn’t diminished and he flung me onto the couch. His face was a bloody mess, but his broken nose didn’t seem to hinder him at all. “I was hoping you’d be awake for this, but if I gotta knock you the fuck out to get inside your pussy, then that will work too.”
I started thrashing about, doing anything I could to get him off me, but I could feel my mind trying to slip into panic mode. I started screaming louder because had to do something. I couldn’t panic. I had to keep thinking. I just had to.
And then all the fight left my body when I heard the sweetest sound in the world.
“Isabella!” and it was followed by the splintering of wood.
I was safe.
Julian was here.
Julian~
The door splintered open and the sight before me had me feeling a rage mere mortals shouldn’t be capable of.
When Isabella had texted me that she was heading over to her condo to take care of a few things, I had contemplated just waiting for her at home, but I hadn’t seen her in two fucking days and I couldn’t stay away any longer.
I no longer cared why she wanted to keep the condo and if she needed to move some of her stuff back, or rearrange the furniture or paint a goddamn wall, well, then that’s what I was going to over there to help her do.
I just didn’t care anymore.
I meant what I said about having her any which way I could get her and I figured I’d find a way to deal with her push back. After my visit with Sandy, I realized Isabella was my salvation. It was never in forgiving Sandy or standing up to her. It was in meeting someone who made me believe in a future in spite of my past.
Isabella was stronger than all my demons combined.
So, I had headed straight to her condo to, either, fight it out, or fuck it out, but I never imagined walking down the hallway hearing her screams beating through her front door.
I grabbed the man I didn’t know and flung him across the room with so much force, his body fell with a sickening thud after it hit the wall. I could hear plaster crumbling in the background, but all I could see was Isabella.
She jumped off the couch and threw herself in my arms. “Oh, Julian!”
I engulfed her in my embrace, but then pushed her back to check for any injuries. When my eyes fell to her ripped blouse, I lost all sense of sanity.
There’s darkness, then Isabella yelling out my name.
There’s darkness, then people shouting and crying out.
There’s darkness, then officers pulling at me.
There’s darkness, then the clear sound of a gun being cocked.
There’s darkness, then Isabella wrapping her arms around me bringing to me a complete halt.
“Julian, please stop!” she sobbed into my shirt.
I looked down and saw the top of her brown head burrowed in my chest. I wrapped my arms around her so tightly, I was pretty sure I might be crushing a few of her ribs. “Isabella…”
The rest was a flurry of activity as I was placed in handcuffs and instructed to sit on the couch while they called an ambulance for the limp body on Isabella’s floor. I could hear Isabella on the phone, but her words weren’t really registering. I was too busy trying to figure out a way to get out of these handcuffs so I could finish the job of beating that motherfucker to death.
I finally came to my senses when Isabella took a seat next to me and started telling her story to one of the questioning officer, who took a seat in one of the armchairs across from us. I sat and listened as she recounted what had happened and the more I heard, the more I realized the cops were right to handcuff me. The officer finally turned to me and asked for my account of what happened once I arrived.
I opened my mouth to speak when a very firm, feminine voice came from the doorway, stopping me. “Do not utter a word, Mr. Moretti!”
Isabella, the officer and I, all swiveled our heads towards the door, and storming into her condo was a tall, decked out blonde in an outfit that screamed attorney. Actually, it screamed very good attorney. That outfit was Prada.
She was followed by a parade of Carson, SMA’s main lawyer, Nick, and then Chase. Isabella must have call Chase and/or Nick once I was placed in handcuffs. I mean, this is the second time in a few months that I’ve beaten a man.
The officer stood and addressed her, “And who might you be, madam?”
She raised a brow at him as if he should just know who she is. I almost laughed. “I’m Grace Malone, Officer…” She peered down at his tag, “Johnson and I insist you uncuff Mr. Moretti this instant.”
The officer glanced my way quickly, but not before recognition of her name flittered across his face. “I can’t do that Mrs. Malone.” He gestured to where Isabella’s neighbor, Pete, laid unconscious. When Isabella had mention who he was during her recounting of events, I started struggling harder to break free from the handcuffs. “He beat a man nearly to death. We’re waiting on an ambulance for him, as we speak.”
Grace stared him down like he was an amateur amongst professionals. “See, Officer Johnson, that’s where you’re confused. Mr. Moretti didn’t beat anyone. He stopped a crime in progress when he prevented that man, whom you’re viewing as a victim, from raping his fiancé.”
The cop’s face paled a bit. “Now, ma’am, I never said he was a vic-”
She dropped her briefcase and the sound resonated throughout the room, before placing her hands on her hips and taking the cop to task. “But it was implied when you stated how an ambulance was called for him. Tell me this, Officer Johnson, was an ambulance called for Ms. DeLucci? Or did you think the ripped blouse she’s holding together was a fashion statement?”
Nick, Chase and Carson had been standing behind the couch in a show of support and at the mention of Isabella’s shirt, Nick pulled off his hoodie and handed it to her. I angled my body to shield her the best I could, as she quickly put it on. “Thank you,” she whispered to Nick.
He didn’t respond and I knew it was because he was probably feeling like a dick over the way he and Chase treated her the last time they saw her. I’m sure his bra
in was being assaulted with memories of Avery’s attack and he was probably struggling from going over there a killing Pete himself. I saved his girl. It was only fair he save mine.
Officer Johnson blanched at Grace’s questioning. “Um, well, the paramedics can help them both, I’m-”
Grace stepped to him, her hands still on her hips. “So, you’re telling me your first instinct was to help the rapist on the floor, instead of the abused woman in a state of undress?”
At her words, the second officer approached. “Now, Mrs. Malone-”
Her head snapped towards him and she was all fire and brimstone. “You listen to me and you better listen well. If you don’t uncuff Mr. Moretti this instant and write up your report that he was stopping a crime in progress by physically removing Mr. Rapist off of Ms. DeLucci’s body, I will spend every cent of Mr. Moretti’s billions to rain down the wrath of every female in the country upon the San Jose police department.”
Officer Johnson must have felt brave with his fellow officer standing next to him, because he responded, “Are you threatening us, Mrs. Malone?”
“Not at all,” she replied. “I’m simply telling you what will happen if you think to charge Mr. Moretti with anything.”
“I broke his nose with some of the self-defense moves I learned from DeShawn Travis,” Isabella blurted out to no one in particular. It was odd, but at least she wasn’t crying hysterically anymore. Her sobs had been like razor blades to my soul.
But Grace picked her comment up and started beating the officers with it. She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “Well, sounds to me that with the training of a world class self-defense trainer like DeShawn Travis and the admission that Ms. DeLucci broke his nose in the struggle, Mr. Rapist’s injuries are a result of a sexual assault victim defending herself.”
The pissing contest was interrupted by a knock on the door and the team of paramedics entering the condo. The male EMT looked to the two officers. “The victim?”
Officer Johnson sealed his fate when he gestured towards Peter and said, “Over on the floor and-” He stopped in midsentence when he realized what he had done. The paramedics immediately went over to Peter and started working on him.
Grace stared down the officers with a look of such disgust and contempt, I had no doubt she’d bury the entire police department like she threatened. “Uncuff. Him. Now!”
The other officer-whose name I still didn’t know-immediately gestured at me to get up. I stood and turned my back to him, letting him unlock the handcuffs. I looked down at my hands once they were free and I could see my wrists bleeding, but it was my knuckles that were all busted to hell. I didn’t bother thanking the officer, and instead, I hauled Isabella off the couch and held her body to mine.
I wanted to fuck both cops up for attending to Peter before Isabella, but I didn’t want to undo everything Grace was trying to do for me. I needed to be here for Isabella and I couldn’t do that if I was sitting in jail for the next 20 years.
Officer #2 was weighing everything Grace threatened against doing the lawful thing. I mean, they did both witness me beating on Peter. She was essentially asking them to lie on an official police report. Making his decision, he let out a deep breath. “What do you suggest we do when he wants to sue Mr. Moretti for injuries?”
She rolled her eyes at him like he was truly a rookie. “Well, since Ms. DeLucci will be pressing charges on him for battery, sexual assault and attempted rape, I say you tell him to go fuck himself. But what I’ll suggest to the D.A. is that he explains to Mr. Rapist the difference between 15 years to life and 25 to life.”
Officer #2 gave Officer Johnson a pointed look before saying, “Well, folks, once the vic-, uh he’s attended to, we’ll be arresting him and, uh,” he glanced over at Isabella, “good job, uh, with…um, keep up the self-defense lessons Ms. DeLucci. It looks like they paid off.”
Isabella’s arms squeezed me and her tears started up again. She was weeping into my chest and I just wanted everyone out of the condo.
Officer Johnson and Officer #2 made their way to where Peter was being loaded up on the gurney without a backward glance. We all waited silently as the officers and EMTs left with Peter in tow.
As soon as they left, Chase pulled out his phone. “I’ll get someone over here to fix the door,” he said as he walked into the kitchen for privacy.
Grace smiled at me. “Well, I guess my work here is done,” she chuckled at me. “Don’t worry, Mr. Moretti. Everything will be fine.” She then reached out and ran her hand down Isabella’s arm. “And don’t you worry one bit, Ms. DeLucci. I will make it my mission to make sure that asshole is locked away for a very long time. Are you going to be okay?” Isabella nodded, silently.
Grace smiled back up at me before addressing Carson, “Ready to go Big C?”
He chucked softly behind us. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll give you guys a call later.” He slapped me on the shoulder as he passed me on his way to the door.
Nick had remained silent the entire time, but Chase walked back and informed us that someone would be right over to fix the door. “Do you need anything else?”
I shook my head, but then thought better of it. “Can you guys stay here and take care of the door while I get Isabella home?”
“Sure thing,” Nick finally said.
I hooked one arm around Isabella’s back and the other around the back of her knees and carried her out to my car.
It was the longest drive home ever.
Chapter 23
Virtues: Because we’re not our parents.
Isabella~
I was sitting on the couch as Julian made me some hot tea and I had never felt so tired in all my life.
When we got home, I headed straight for the bathroom. I took a long how shower and I had wanted to fall into a deep sleep, but Julian wanted to ice my cheek to help with any swelling or bruising that was sure to make an appearance tomorrow.
Julian hadn’t uttered a word the entire drive over and I was worried he was going to blow. Watching him bashing in Peter’s face was a sight I’ll never forget. He had been brutal and untouchable. I knew I was risking bodily harm when I threw myself at him to get him to stop and I was stunned when it worked.
I expected Julian to kill us both. That’s how far gone he appeared.
My head turned as I watched him walking towards me with an ice pack and cup of tea. He sat across from me and I wondered how the coffee table didn’t crash under his weight.
He set the cup down next to him while placing the ice pack on my face and arranging my hand to hold it firm against my cheek. I winced a little at the contact, but it actually didn’t feel too bad. “Thank you.”
“Did the shower help?” he asked. “Do you feel any better?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I feel a lot better,” I reassured him.
He handed me the cup of tea and I took it with my free hand. “Do you need anything else?”
I could tell he was trying really hard to put his feelings aside and make sure I was okay. It was sweet and just another reminder of how special Julian was. But at this point, I was more worried about him than I was about anything I had endured. “Is it really that easy, Julian, or are you going to have to go to jail for what you did to Peter?”
Julian let out a sigh and a small, sad smile. “You’re right. It isn’t that easy and there’s still a very real possibility of me going to jail, but the odds are slim, Isabella. Unfortunately, justice does favor the rich and because I have the resources to make all of Grace’s threats come true, I doubt the D.A. is going to come after me no matter how much noise Peter makes.”
I replayed the scene over in my head, and what he did to Eric after he attacked Avery, was nothing compared to what he did to Peter. “I thought you were going to kill him,” I admitted.
Julian looked directly into my eye and there was nothing but pure honesty looking at me. “I was,” he stated simply.
“Julian…”
“I wanted to ki
ll him,” he said again. “And God help him if he’s ever released from jail or prison, because I’ll always want to kill him.”
I set the cup of tea and ice pack down and got down on my knees in front of him. He sat up straighter and opened his legs so I could fit. I reached up, taking his face in my hands and held his beautiful hazel gaze. “I’m okay, Julian. I promise, I’m fine,” I implored him to believe me. His eyes became glassy and I broke down. My body lost all its strength and I crumble onto the floor in violent, wracking sobs.
And not because I’d been attacked.
No, my tears were for ever causing this wonderful, rare man any moment of pain or insecurity.
My tears were for how selfish and spoiled I had been with all of Julian’s gifts. I had thrown his love for me back in his face and he still wanted to be my hero. He still put me first. And he was still willing to kill for me.
I didn’t deserve him.
“I’m so sorry, Julian,” I wailed. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry for everything I said and did.”
“Jesus Christ,” he cursed right before he reached down and scooped me up off the floor. My face was buried in my hands, because I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. But I felt him sit on the couch and cradle me in his lap. “Isabella, baby, stop crying. Please, stop crying,” he begged.
“It’s all my fault. Everything is my fault,” I insisted through tears, snot and spit. His shirt was going to be so ruined.
“Jesus, baby. Nothing is your fault. None of this is your fault, Isabella. We had a fight. That’s it, that’s all, baby.”
I had his shirt fisted in my hands and I was trying to bury myself inside the safety of his arms. “Yes, it is!” I insisted. “If I hadn’t been fighting you all this time for my stupid sense of independence, this never would have happened. If I hadn’t been so stupid and selfish and spoiled, I would have moved in with you months ago and sold that goddamn condo!”
Claiming Isabella Page 27