It wasn’t long before Isabella was conscious again, but it was too late to get herself away from getting stupidly captured. Why the hell was she standing so far away from the vans in the first place? It was rookie mistake and one she was sure her father was not going to let go unpunished. Isabel felt her body being roughly lifted off the concrete and thrown none too gently over the shoulder of a rather muscular male figure. Flashes of pain shot through her body each time the brute’s foot made contact with the unforgiving ground and once again Isabel struggled to hang onto what little shred of thought she had left. She had to stay awake if she had any hope to get out of this alive. None of her father’s men were going to come after her now with the cops on scene and illegal substances in the vans, and there was no way her father would spend a dime to get her out of this tangle when she had been so stupid.
Isabel could see the police lights getting smaller in the distance as her capture carried her toward the warehouse. These guys really were idiots, she thought as her head dropped back down on the guy’s lower back. She needed to keep her energy, she was going to need it to get out of this. With her eyes closed, she kept track of their direction noting that the men who picked her up headed straight inside and up a flight stairs that lead into the only upstairs loft in the entire building. Roughly her head banged against the wooded floor as she was dropped haphazardly off the guy’s shoulder. Isabella rolled onto her side and coughed causing a little trickle of blood to run down her chin. “Damn.” She whispered as she wiped it away with the back of her sleeve. Slowly she looked up at her captives but they were not paying her much attention. The men were grouped together talking in hushed voices. Probably coming to the conclusion that she did. They were trapped.
“Let’s use the girl as a shield. Cops won’t shoot an innocent bystander.” One of the guys suggested as he turned towards her.
“I am not innocent.” Isabel informed them sharply, though her voice came out much weaker then she planned on it being. And now that she thought about it, she was not sure she could put up much of a fight. Her left hand was starting to go numb, the area around the bullet was throbbing, and she doubted her leg could support her weight despite her will power.
“I think it is too late.” A tall lanky red haired guy interrupted the dispute as he pulled a gun out from his pants and pulled open the door to the stairwell leading. As the room quieted, Isabel could just make out the echoes of soft foot steps down stairs. It could not be her men, they would not be so stupid to come after her. Then it dawned on her, the cops were coming for her. They thought she was an innocent who was taken captive. “Who’s there…?” The red head called out as he slowly stepped down the stairs.
“Kevin!” The muscled guy who had been carrying her called out, but it was too late. Kevin had disappeared down the stairs, one creaky step at a time. “Spread out. Grab anything you can use as a weapon and only shot if you can guarantee not to hit one of your own. Got it?” The muscled man whispered urgently and the rest followed suite. They listened as Kevin walked down the stairs, one loud plank at a time. Even up in the loft they heard his whispered curses. Isabel took this moments distraction to unzip her black jacket. If the cops were going to think she was just a woman caught in a gang cross fire, wearing all black in the dead of night would not look good. She quietly shrugged her good arm out of the jacket then gently pulled the fabric off the bullet womb wincing as it pulled at some of the dried blood. With the jacket off, she threw it behind some crates and thanked her lucky stars that she decided to wear her lucky pink tank top under her jacket for the night.
It seemed like Isabel was all but forgotten. Almost. “What about the girl?” Someone asked as they almost tripped over her leg. “Kill her. She is useless now.” Came the calloused answer from one of the other men. Isabel pulled herself a good foot away from her potential attacker with her good arm but she found herself pushed up against the farthest corner from the door. She raised her good arm to cover her eyes just as he raised the grip of his gun with the intent to bash in her head. About that time as flash bomb was thrown into the array and things went to hell. Her vision when went white, a gunshot sent her ringing, and a blow to the head rendered her unconscious once again.
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When she came to again she was being held gently in the arms of a cop. The edges of her vision blurred in and out and the only thing that was clear was the shape of the face of the man in front of her most particularly the light blue of his eyes with the occasional speckle of brown. His mouth was moving, that must mean he was talking but her ears were still ringing and she could not piece together what he was trying to say. Slowly her eyes started to close again and her head turned and landed against his chest with a solid thump. This time she was awaken by a bright light shining directly into her eye.
“We are afraid she might have a concussion Officer Cray, and if that is the case she cannot go to sleep. We need you to keep her awake while we stop the bleeding from her other injuries. Ask her questions, keep her talking, whatever it takes. Just do not let her close her eyes. Start with her name.” The paramedic kept eye contact with Cray just long enough to get the importance of the task across then move on to the woman’s arm.
Isabel’s eyes fluttered a little as she tried to get her barring about her. Honestly she did not remember where she was or how she had gotten there. Slowly she looked over to the left and saw a pair of blue eye looking down at out at her with concern. “Isabel.” Her voice was rough and barely audible so she tried to turn her head to cough and clear her throat only to find she could not move her head. Still the cough came as dry and rough as it was.
