Chapter 32: Marking Territories

They exchanged looks, Isla’s startled, and George’s perplexed with a mix of annoyance. He didn’t particularly like the idea of another man yelling Isla’s name at this time.

“Someone you know?” he asked, carefully keeping his voice devoid of emotion.

“No,” she responded coldly, not liking his tone. “And I assure you, I do not make a habit of having gentleman callers at night. Apart from you, of course.”

George chuckled at that last part, realizing he may have overreacted just a bit. “Alright, I'm sorry,” he apologized, hands up in apology. “Let’s go find out who your gentleman caller is.” He finished with an amused smirk at the term.

Shaking her head at him in equal amusement, she walked towards his door, eager to get this over with. As Isla reached out to open his door, the voice called again. “C’mon baabyyy. You know you want this sugar.” Then a bout of raucous laughter. That voice, Isla thought as she let herself out of George’s apartment, wasn’t that…?

She yanked the door open angrily to chide the drunken idiot.

“What the hell is it you think you are doing, Jake?” she asked coldly, hating the sight of him. The bastard had been struggling with her knob, trying to force her door open. He turned around at the sound of her voice, almost toppling over. He was dead drunk.

“There you are, my Cinderella,” he chimed in a sing-song voice. “I have been searching everywhere for…” his words died on his lips as George stepped out into the hallway just behind Isla, his tall intimidating frame appearing to make him cow. But just for a second, because in the next, Jake’s eyes narrowed in anger, a snarl on his face as his face turned red with anger. “You…” he shouted suddenly. “What the hell are you doing around my Isla?”

George, trained to expect anything, easily anticipated Jake’s drunken charge, pushing Isla back into his apartment and dodging the charging drunk’s body is one smooth move. “Don’t come out,” he instructed Isla, shutting the door in her face.

“George!” she protested, but it was too late. George turned his attention to Jake, facing him squarely. He had fallen flat on his face as a result of his failed charge, and had just gotten back on his feet when George turned around to face him. He struggled to stay upright, using the wall as his support, his wobbly feet doing him no favors.

George stared at him, disgust written all over his face. He had been itching to teach Jake a lesson, but doing it while the man was plastered would be a waste of effort. He decided getting this man into his own apartment and keeping him there would be the goal for tonight. Jake had other plans though, charging George again. “You sonofa…!” he screamed unable to complete his swear word as the next sound that proceeded from his lips was one of pain. “Ow! Let go!” He screamed.

Moving to the side deftly, George had dodged his charge again, grabbed his right wrist and twisted it painfully. Still yelling in pain, Jake swung wildly at George’s head with his left arm. Now upset, George grabbed that wrist with his other hand and twisted both arms.

“Owww!!!” Jake screamed pitifully, his face tomato red and his eyes becoming watery. “Let go!!!”

Isla could take it no more. She had yet to see George very mad, but if his earlier altercation with her stepmother was any indication, the man had a dangerous side. She didn’t want him killing someone, especially not in her name.

Twisting the knob, she opened the door, rushing into the dimly-lit hallway. The sight that greeted her on her immediate right side sent her into a mini panic, and somehow made her want to laugh. Jake, both wrists in George’s grip, red faced and on his knees pleading for mercy. She noticed doors along the hallway open and some of the neighbors peeping, curious as to what the ruckus was all about.

Isla grimaced. Great. They had cashed a spectacle at past midnight.

“George,” she pleaded. “That’s enough. Please let him go.”

George looked at her for a second, not immediately adhering to her plea. “Hear that, Jake?” he taunted Jake. “Your case is being pled for.”

“George,” Isla called impatiently. “Come on.”

“One minute, Isla,” he responded. “Our friend here has got something to say to you. Jake?” Jake stubbornly thinned his lips, his ego kicking in. George noticing this, twisted a bit harder, the combination of alcohol and pain almost sending Jake into a blackout.

“Alright, alright!” he yelled. “I’m sorry, Isla. I have apologized to your f*cking girlfriend. Can you now let me go?” Smirking, George let him go. As Jake rubbed his sore wrists, cursing, George strode away from him.

“Harass her next time,” he warned, “and I will have you arrested.”

As George walked towards Isla, smirk on his face, she could feel her stomach curl drop. She was grateful to him for standing up for her, but she had to leave this location. It was all too much. Her attempt to live quietly was blown with Jake's antics. Her stepmother knew this place now, and...she stepped back in as George advanced...maybe life could be merciful with her this once and let her start afresh with George. But given the way he had reacted to her merely buying him clothes, will he accept to move with her?