The Arrangement

"More, baby?" She whispered, her voice rough, husky...scraping against my skin deliciously.

"More," I begged softly.

Her lips smiled against mine and then she was moving me again, turning me over onto my belly, pulling me up onto my knees. Her body was tense, tight...it felt hot against mine as she pressed her front to my back...and then she thrust into me, her strap-on long and thick...forcing sensitive tissue aside, filling me completely. I groaned, pulling away from her just a bit, not used to the size. Her hands covered my breasts, pulling at my nipples, sending my senses into overdrive as she withdrew just a little, and slid back in...over and over...in and out...torturing my nipples...the tremors from the vibrator connected to her strap tormenting me...I could feel another orgasm building...shocked my body could keep going...she thrust into me... roughly... wickedly...her fingers making their way back to my center, torturing me...my body tensing...

"Kaden!"

Her name was a shriek on my lips and I came...and came...and came. She continued to fuck me hard as I kept coming, until I felt her body stiffen, heard her growl in my ear as she pulled me closer, her orgasm finally consuming her.

She fell forward, forcing me deeper into the soft mattress as we both tried to catch our breath, her hips still moving, sliding her toy in and out, milking our aftershocks. I closed my eyes, enjoying the weight of her against me as the inferno burning through me slowly died down.

"God, that was fucking fantastic," she rumbled in my ear and I laughed, my body weak...sated.

"Sleep, baby," she purred, "I'm definitely going to want more before I have to go."

I was already half asleep by the time she finished talking.

*

I woke up to eat a couple of hours later... and was then able to settle in between those muscled thighs, breathing in the hot, muskiness of her center... sampling her until she was drenched, tense and impatient. Then she hauled me up, tossed me onto the bed, and fucked me until I nearly passed out.

*

I was feeling sticky a little later so I went to grab a quick shower...and she joined me, fucking me up against the cool bathroom tiles until my knees buckled.

*

And then again, around dawn...slow this time...sweet...gentle...until I came again, her name on my lips.

*

When I woke, the sun was out and she was sitting beside me on the bed, stroking my hip. She leaned down to kiss me, her breath minty from toothpaste, and I realized she was dressed.

"I have to go," she murmured against my lips.

I pouted and she chuckled.

"The room is yours if you want to hang here for a few days, clear your head. And I programmed my number into your phone." She kissed me again, long, sweet, tenderly...

"Call me when your divorce is final."

I smiled, nodding. Then she kissed me one last, lingering, delicious time before she left.

***

***

ONE YEAR LATER...

***

***

Kaden glanced at her cell, rolling her eyes at the number. She'd told this asshole she wasn't doing business in the States right now...

"What?" She snapped.

"I know, I know. Two things though. I promised my boy I would ask. He would love some of your product. Got a lucrative thing going in the Bronx."
"Fucking told you, not doing business in the States right now. Next."

"Uh...your friend. That bitch from last year—"

"Don't call her that," Kaden growled.

"Sorry, sorry. You know, the one that stayed with her man after you coughed up quarter of a mil?"
Isa. As if she could forget her.

"What about her?"

"Uh, yeah...she's in trouble."

Kaden could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise. Julian calling because he was worried about someone? That couldn't be good.

"What kind of trouble?"
"Yeah, that fucktard she's married to started turning over all his paychecks to her. So, to feed the demon, he needed income. Started dealing. Heroin. Started using. Got in bad. Gang took her until he settles his debt."

Kaden closed her eyes. A gang took her as payment? Not. Good.

"How bad?"

"They got her in a crack house in the Bronx, forcing shit into her veins, chained up like a fucking dog, servicing anyone and everyone...I heard it was bad, but I saw her a couple of days ago...it's bad Kade."

She forced herself to take a deep breath...and when her heart rate didn't settle, she forced herself to take another.

"Get her out."

"Kade, he owes a wad."
"Get. Her. Out. Now."

She disconnected and pulled hard on the joint in her hand, holding the smoke in her lungs for quite some time before slowly blowing it out. It didn't help. She grabbed her phone and booked a flight to New York.

*

She'd been traveling for what felt like forever. Last minute flights from Phoenix to New York were always a headache and she'd had to deal with two layovers. She felt strung out...and dirty. As she rode the elevator to the penthouse, she knew she should be anticipating a hot shower to clean off some of the travel funk...but that's not where her head was. Her head was thinking about a curvy little body wrapped in a ruby red dress and wearing ridiculously expensive shoes she could hardly walk in . Long thick hair she'd buried her face in, full, thick lips she'd felt on her body...smoky, sexy hazel-green eyes she couldn't seem to get out of her head, even after she'd gotten that fucking text saying she was going to give it another try with her husband. It still burned that her $250,000 had bought her fucktard husband a second chance. He'd made her all kinds of promises of a clean slate, starting over, doing right by her, blah, blah, blah.

And now this shit.

She stepped from the elevator, annoyed that her pulse picked up at the thought of seeing her again. She slid the key card into the lock, opened the door and... nothing. The suite was pristine, as usual...but it was empty. She'd been expecting to see some sign of life since Isabella should have already been there. She grabbed her phone and scrolled down to Julian's number.

"What the fuck?" She barked.

"Kade, dude...you need to get over here."

"Why? What the fuck?" She repeated.

"They got her off the junk, but then she grabbed some asshole's gun. She won't let anyone near her."

Kaden raised a brow, wondering what the hell was going on as she turned to hurry from the penthouse suite.

*

When she stood from the cab, she winced. Julian had not been kidding when he said a crack house. Literally. It was an abandoned building with boarded up windows and graffiti everywhere...certainly not a place fit for humans. Definitely not fit for her. How the fuck had she wound up here?

The front door was barely hanging on by its hinges. Julian was waiting for her.

"Where is she?"

"Kade, listen, you need to prepare, okay? She's on the third floor and—"

She didn't wait for him to finish, running up the dilapidated stairs, hoping her foot wouldn't fall through as she climbed. God, how long had she been here? The thought had just crossed her mind when she heard gunshots and picked up the pace. There was a small crowd gathered on the third floor. They'd clearly just ducked to avoid being shot. She pressed through the crowd of African American men and boys, all different sizes and ages, all with tats screaming loyalty to their gang. She stopped in front of Brawler, a 25 year old, huge man with a bald head and dark skin that was covered almost completely in tats. He'd been the leader of the gang a couple of years ago when she'd sold them a package. Seems he'd managed to stay alive.

"Kade, wassup? You here for this crazy bitch?"

Kade just raised a brow, ignoring his comment. "Who's in there with her?"

"No one dude. She came down off a high, grabbed my boy's gun and shot his ass. Started tripping right around the time your man Julian settled the debt. We tried to tell her she could go, but anyone sticks they head in there, she shoots. She's probably not outta bullets yet, so..."
"Could you get everyone out of here? She's not going to come out with you guys here."

"True dat. Holla if you need anything."

She watched him order everyone off the floor. A minute or so later she was standing alone outside of the apartment they had been gathered around. She entered slowly, noting there wasn't a front door, taking in the trash, stained and filthy old furniture, the smell of a backed up toilet...there was more graffiti on every surface...and it reeked of...she wasn't sure what that smell was. It wasn't a place fit for a stray dog, much less the woman she remembered waking up with a year ago.

She stopped in front of the only room with a door.

"Isabella?" She called out tentatively.

"Get away from me!" She shrill sound was followed by two shots that pierced the closed door. The door had a number of other bullet holes in it already. She moved quickly to avoid getting hit. God, she sounded...deranged.

"Isa...its Kaden."

She said the words loudly, slowly...using the nickname she preferred instead of 'Izzy.' She waited another few moments when there was no response.

"Isa, I'm going to open the door. Don't shoot me, okay?"

She turned the knob and opened the door slowly.

What she saw...shocked her. And having done time in the military, she wasn't easily shocked. There was no light other than the dim rays coming through a cracked window, no furniture other than a filthy mattress lying on the floor in the corner. A man was lying facedown on it, a huge brownish-red stain surrounding his body. More graffiti everywhere. But her eyes were focused on the woman sitting in a corner, naked, obviously scared to death, her eyes wild, her hands wrapped around the grip of a huge black gun...and there was a thick, black dog collar around her neck along with a chain that was connected to a radiator.

She barely recognized her. Her gorgeous mane of dark silky hair was wild and matted. Her face was scratched, puffy and bruised. Her lips severely chapped. She'd lost weight...quite a few pounds from the looks of it. And that beautiful, creamy, caramel skin was covered with filth, contusions, scratches...and cigarette burns. A number of small, round cigarette burns.

What. The. Fuck.

Kaden swallowed, holding her hands up.

"Isa...it's me."

Her eyes were still a little glassy, but Kaden knew when she recognized her, watching as she lowered the gun.

"Kaden? Wh-what...you're here?"

Her voice was thick, scratchy.

"I came to get you," she told her softly. She unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing, revealing a black tank, moving very slowly toward the cowed woman.

"Let me have that Isa, okay? I won't let anyone else hurt you."

She was standing over her, waiting...and finally Isabella handed her the gun. Kaden held out a hand to her, helping her stand, slipping the shirt around her shoulders and helping her into it. She buttoned it for her as Isabella just stood there, her eyes glued to the floor, her body slumped. Kaden examined the collar, finally figuring out the complex locking mechanism and undoing it. She dropped it onto the filthy floor.

"I think I killed someone," Isabella whispered. "He was on top of me...inside me...hurting me...I grabbed his gun—"

"Shhh, it's okay. Don't worry about it, okay? Let me take you to the hospital."

"No!"

Isabella's shuffling feet stopped short, pulling away from the taller woman.

"No! I can't—...no one else—!" The tears were hot and quick, like a flash flood. The panic real.

"Okay. Okay Isa, no problem. The hotel then, okay?"

When she didn't answer, and her feet started moving again, Kaden sighed, guiding her out of hell and into a cab.

*

I recall, briefly, standing under a hot spray. She was in the shower with me, tenderly washing my body...helping with my hair...it wasn't sexual. I wasn't sure I would ever feel anything sexual again.

No.

I didn't want to think about that...all those hands, pulling, pinching, prodding...those men on top of me...forcing themselves into my body...I couldn't resist...I'd felt so loopy...had no control over my limbs, my body...the feeling of those cigarettes and cigars, searing my skin...the smell of my own flesh burning...

No.

I didn't want to think about that now.

Or ever.

She combed my hair. Braided it. Slid a silk sleep shirt over my head and helped me climb into bed.

And I slept.

She woke me to eat. Soup, crackers, a few bites from a sandwich...I was nauseous, I had a severe headache, chills...my body trembled so violently I thought my bones would break. Part of my brain realized it was probably withdrawal from whatever drugs they'd had me on. A month...I had been there a month. Had Mason really told them to keep me because he couldn't pay? Or wouldn't pay? That's what they'd said...I was hoping it wasn't true. If it was true...I wanted him dead.

I talked to her when I was awake... told her everything. Why I stayed with him. How they grabbed me when he left for work and I was home alone. What they did to me. I'm not sure why. It felt therapeutic. She felt...safe. No judgment.

What was she doing here? How had she known? Why had she come?

She had a doctor stop by to see me. He dressed some of the burns on my body that had become infected and gave me some pills...antibiotics I think.

A month...a month in hell. A month lost...I would never get those days back...I barely remembered them...thank God.

I did remember killing that man. The feel of the gun when my hand had closed over it. Pulling the trigger. The kickback...the smell of the discharged weapon...the weight of his body when he fell on me...the smell of blood and bowels after he died. And I remembered thinking 'not again...never again.'

*

I stayed in that bed, sleeping off and on, for five days. And then one morning I just got out of bed, took a shower, dressed in whatever clothes she'd left for me, and walked out of the bedroom.

She was there, at the desk, working on her laptop and talking into her phone. Her low, husky voice familiar. I had no idea what I would say to her. What I should say to her. Thank you seemed so...I don't know. It wasn't enough.

She turned when she noticed me, a brow raised. She finished her call moments later.

"Hey, you're up."

I nodded, blushing a little. I remembered her showering with me, feeding me, sleeping beside me, holding me when the nightmares came and I cried out, stroking my hair, my back...

"Hi Kaden," I offered weakly.

She smiled...and my heart stuttered a bit. Okay, I guess I wasn't entirely dead inside.

"You should eat. And probably get a little exercise."

Her suggestion sounded exhausting, but I nodded. She'd been taking pretty good care of me so far. I wouldn't question her now.

"Let me order something for you," she offered.

I nodded, dropping down onto a sofa that faced her. I heard her order breakfast food although it was well into the afternoon. I closed my eyes, feeling tired, knowing I needed to force myself to get back into the land of the living. When she hung up, she just watched me for a few minutes, neither of us saying a word.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked her.

She watched me for another minute or so before answering.

"Julian called me."

It took me a minute to remember who Julian was.

"Why?"

She didn't answer that question...as if the answer was obvious. It wasn't, not to me.

"What are you doing here Kaden?" I asked desperately. I'd texted her. A chickenshit move. Told her I was going to try again with Mason. Told her I had to give my marriage a second chance now that he had a clean slate. He'd promised he would never gamble again, promised he would continue with therapy, assured me he would hand over all of his paychecks so he would not be tempted...

I'd rejected her. Picked the wrong person. Hurt her feelings probably. Why was she helping me?

I watched as she sat back in her chair and sighed, those dark eyes taking me in, watching me carefully.

"How long had you been married when I met you Isa?" She asked patiently.

"Five years."

"And how long had you known me?"

And the light bulb finally went on. "Two days."

"Probably more like a day and a half," she teased gently. "Forgive me for not being furious that you made the safer, logical choice."

I felt the weight of that choice lift just a little for me.
"Thanks. You could have been a dick about it."

She smiled, "not interested in being a dick."

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. I didn't say anything for a while...neither did she. The silence was comfortable.

"How much this time?" I finally asked, my eyes meeting her dark, warm ones.

She smirked, "doesn't matter. Worth every penny."

I shook my head, "how can you say that? Do you know what they did to me? What I let them—"

I couldn't even choke the words out. I closed my eyes again. My skin growing tight as the memories crowded in...she had no idea what she'd paid for this time. Used goods was putting it mildly.

"Isa."

It was a soft demand, but one I obeyed as I'd done for the last few days when the panic started to consume me.

"Breathe."

Again, I obeyed, taking a deep breath...then another. Then another. A few minutes later, I was looking into those deep, warm, calming eyes again.

"It's normal. The panic. The nightmares. It's normal. You need to give your body, and your mind, time to heal."

She spoke to me as if I was someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown...and I wondered how she knew. How could anyone know what I was going through...unless they'd gone through something similar?

"You were raped?" I asked carefully.

I wasn't sure she would answer, but she nodded eventually.

"Was working for our wonderful government. Was taken and held for two months overseas. Beaten, raped, almost starved to death."

"Why?"

"They wanted information about our military. Our weapons actually. I had that information. I wouldn't talk. So..."

Okay...I wasn't expecting that. Thinking back to our first conversation over a year ago...

"I thought you were a private contractor?" I remembered.

She nodded, "I am now. I wasn't always."
"What are you contracted for?"

"My company designs, manufactures and sells weapons."

I frowned, thinking for a moment.

"Like Tony Stark? Iron Man?"

She laughed, "uh, I guess. It's not as glamorous as Iron Man, but I guess so."

"Is that what you did for our government? Weapons?"

She nodded, "yeah. For a while."

"What happened? Why'd you stop working for them?"

She smirked again, "I was taken, beaten, raped and almost starved for two months."

I slowly smiled, "oh. Well, yeah. That would do it."

If she'd been trying to distract me, it worked. The panic attack had receded...and I felt a little more optimistic considering what she'd been through. And here she was, sitting across from me...seemingly normal.

"So, is that how you got to be rich? Selling weapons to our government as a private contractor?"

She raised a brow, "who said I only sold weapons to our government? They had no loyalty, why should I? I sell to the highest bidder."

I looked at her, surprised.

"Uh, I bet our government is not happy with that."

She shrugged, "don't give a fuck. Free enterprise and all that."

I nodded, not really caring about her sense of patriotism or the lack thereof. It's not like I'd volunteered to run for office or join the military. A comfortable silence settled between us again until there was a knock on the door and someone called out "room service."