Isaac paced the small motel room, his jaw clenched, fists curled tightly at his sides. His memory was clear now and so was his rage.
"That bastard," he muttered. "He laid hands on you. He dragged you like some object. I'm going to f**k his life up so bad he won't remember his own damn name."
Isabel sat on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully, “who are you talking about?” She was genuinely confused, a part of her still not believing what was happening.
“Ash,” he said the name like it disgusted him.
“Isaac breathe.”
“No. I’m serious. I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to make sure he pays for what he did to you and for what he did before.”
He snatched up her phone from the nightstand, unlocking it. Just as he was about to dial, the screen lit up with an incoming call.
Lena.
