After I Stopped Loving Him (Isabella and Ethan) novel Chapter 457

The police rushed after the kidnappers, blocking off their escape routes. No one had expected there would be so many of them, and there just weren’t enough officers on the scene.

Ethan carried Isabella out of the car. The moment he saw blood on her, his face went completely white. His hands shook as he leaned in to check if she was still breathing. She was. That tiny reassurance gave him just enough strength to keep it together.

“Isabella, Isabella...” he whispered, over and over.

One police car stayed behind. A couple of officers dragged the kidnappers out of the overturned van, while someone else was already on the phone calling for an ambulance. It didn’t take long for the paramedics to arrive and load Isabella and the injured kidnappers into the ambulance.

Of course, Ethan went with her. On the way to the hospital, he forced himself to calm down enough to pull out his phone and call Frank. His voice was low and tight when Frank answered. “Frank, Isabella and I were ambushed by kidnappers on our way home. I think they’d been watching us for a while. We called the police and tried to fight back, but Isabella got hurt. We’re in the ambulance now, heading to the hospital.”

Frank shot upright in bed, not even fully awake yet. “How bad is she? Which hospital? I’m coming right now.”

Ethan checked with the paramedic, then told Frank, “It’s the hospital closest to my place.”

They were monsters, not even human. They tore her clothes, humiliated her, violated her. Like the ones from tonight, they wore black masks and sunglasses, hiding every part of their faces. She never saw what they looked like. All she had were their voices.

They mocked her, said she’d been Mrs. Adams for three years and was still a virgin. They laughed, wondering if Ethan was useless, taunting her about how she was still untouched even on the day of her divorce. While they assaulted her, they slapped her, grabbed her chin, and sneered, asking if they were better than Ethan.

She screamed and begged, her voice cracking and going hoarse, but they didn’t care. The more she cried, the more hopeless and afraid she became, the more it seemed to entertain them. Her pain was their joy.