But I forced myself to get out of the car and start walking. I didn’t know if it would do any good, but almost by default, it had to do some good somehow. Sitting in the car certainly wasn’t helping.
I mean for all the Ferraris. So, OK, Layla and Brett might get entangled somehow. Maybe my dad. Would grandpa? He was the one rumored…
And grandma? Would she? I had to imagine even criminals had some form of code and respect for picking on the weak; but, then again, there was so much I didn’t know about grandma and grandpa…
Was it worth dragging the entire Ferrari family into a dark abyss just so I could get revenge on Izzy’s ex? Was that really worth it? Why couldn’t I just let the courts do their thing?
Well, for starters, I didn’t even know if the police had arrested the asshole yet, and if they hadn’t, he’d probably learned some shit about being on the run. I never got the impression he was a criminal mastermind of sorts, but I also didn’t get the impression he’d be appearing on America’s Dumbest Criminals anytime soon, either. He’d be on the run long enough to cause us stress.
Whereas this…
This could send a message, get the point across, and then let things be without much evidence to follow.
And while this might have been a terrible decision when it came to finances, when it came to personal relief, I was much less concerned with “paying a debt” of a personal kind later than I was about making sure Izzy was OK and would be OK.
I pulled out my phone and looked at our text messages. She was such a cheerful and happy person. I thought about her from last night and this morning. She looked beautiful.
Her exterior beauty had been shattered, but more than that, I feared what would happen to her emotional well-being. Far be it for me to empathize with a woman who had just been abused when I had never even faced the risk of it, let alone actually had it happen, but I had to guess this wasn’t something she’d just brush off like a bad day at work.
I had to make sure “probably never again” truly became “never again.”
I checked the time. I cross-referenced it against the end of our call. Seven minutes had passed.
I dialed my uncle back.
“Nick?”
“Do it,” I said. “Take care of him.”
Chapter 18: Izzy
Three Days Later
“And look who it is! Look who’s on the screen!”
I burst into happy tears at the sight of my son on the FaceTime screen, seated by my father, who had instructed Ryan to look toward the phone.
“Mommy!” he said.
He didn’t seem worried about the bruises that still remained on my face. He hadn’t seen the worst of it, thanks in part to the work of doctors to ameliorate swelling and other issues, but there were some marks and scars that would be a part of me for a long, long time. By now, though, I was just happy that my son was safe and that Malcolm was behind prison bars. The rest would take care of itself.
“How are you, sweetie?”
“Mommy, where are you?”
God, how innocent and cute he sounded. To him, I had just gone on a long vacation. He’d understand the horrible truth someday, but for right now, it was good to see that he was just happy to see me.
“I’m at the hospital, baby; it’s where people who are sick or hurt go to get better.”
“How are you sick, Mommy?”
Oh, in a lot of ways, I thought with a forced smile for Ryan. Sick of having to deal with this shit. Sick of having to look over my shoulder. Sick of wondering if this will be the last time I ever have to deal with him.
“Mommy ran into some trouble,” I said, which felt like the most truthful answer I could give that wouldn’t hurt my boy too much. “But she is getting better, and she fully expects to see you by the end of today.”
“Yay! I miss you, Mommy.”
Oh, my God, I was about to cry again. At least this time, I was going to cry tears of joy and not tears of exhaustion or frustration.
“I miss you too, sweetie. I’ll come see you tonight.”
“OK!”
With that, my father grabbed the camera back.
“So, as you can see, little Ryan here is just fine,” he said. “Hey, go run off. Grandpa needs to talk to your mother. OK, sorry. Are you feeling OK?”
I nodded.
“They’ve shown me that Malcolm was arrested, so I feel safe,” I said. “Shaken, but safe.”
My father nodded.
“I…I wish I had words to help you, honey,” he said. “I have never had to encounter anything like this, so I don’t—”
“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” I said. If I saw my father start to break down, I knew I’d lose it even worse than I had so far. “The important thing is he’s in jail and I’m recovering.”
“OK,” he said with a smile and watery eyes. “Just—”
“Ms. Saunders?”
I turned away from the screen momentarily, causing my father to cut himself off. I scrunched my eyebrow at the sight.
“This just came in for you.”
It was a bouquet of flowers…the exact same kind that had been waiting for me at my desk when I had finished the career fair presentation at Fresno State. And there was a letter attached to them.
“Iz?” my father said, using his nickname for me. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, actually…” I said, grabbing the flowers from the nurse, who quickly left. My father looked on wide-eyed as I stared at the flowers. “I guess things
