Cresh said, now standing at the side of the bed. “Just... look at you...” “Please,” I whispered. “Don’t do anything. Not like this.” “He handcuffs you. He abuses you.” “No, he doesn’t. He commands and protects me.” Cresh looked at Jonathan’s still body on the floor and laughed. “I doubt he’ll be protecting you. Plus, you don’t need him. You don’t need a man like that dragging you into murder. I’ll only drag you into life. Into beauty. Into love.” “No,” I said, “I don’t want that.” “Sure you do. All women do.” His eyes connected with mine and the look in his eyes made me look away. He reached out and touched my hair. I was thankful it was just my hair at that point, but even still, it made me shiver and want to scream. I wanted to call for Jonathan. I wanted to wake him up, if he could wake up. That’s when the thought occurred to me that maybe Jonathan was dead. Could it happen from one hit to the head? Probably. Anything could be possible. Cresh’s fingers moved to my cheek. “Oh, Isabella Grace,”
