The Arrangement

I ate, much more heartily than I thought I could manage, and she seemed pleased by this. When we were done she insisted we go for a short walk. We didn't go far, just a few blocks, which was more than enough to tire me out. We were walking through the hotel lobby, and I was looking quite forward to crawling back into bed, when I stopped dead in my tracks, spotting a person waiting for us near the bank of elevators. It took Kaden a moment to realize I'd stopped.

"What's wrong?"

I heard her, recognized the concern in her voice, but I was frozen, trying to process what I was seeing.

"Izzy?"

Kaden turned to see who was calling my name, but she clearly didn't recognize him as he made his way toward us. Rich milk chocolate skin, relatively well built, jeans hugging his hips, a baggy tee shirt hiding the slight pouch of his stomach. He was tall enough that most people could not see the top of his head and his thinning hair, something I know he still obsessed about.
"I'm Mason, Izzy's husband," he said when he reached us. "You must be Kade. I haven't had a chance to thank you for everything."

He stuck his hand out. Kaden looked down at it...and ignored it. She turned to me instead.

"You want me to stay or leave?" She asked gently.

"Stay," I said immediately.

"Leave," Mason said at the same time.

Kaden ignored him again, turning and folding her arms across her chest as she stared at him, her dark eyes cold and hard.

Mason decided to push forward, "babe, why didn't you call me? I called up there to check on you and they said you left days ago."

I couldn't respond to him...I didn't know what to say. My chest felt tight and I felt...something burning in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't identify the emotion, but it felt pretty close to the feelings I'd had when I was chained in that room and my hand had closed over the butt of that gun...

"Babe? You okay?"

I still couldn't bring myself to utter a word. I just stared at him like an idiot.

"Isa, do you want to go upstairs?"

I turned to Kaden, her voice calming the strong emotions swirling around inside of me.

"Kaden—" I started.

"I need to speak to my wife alone. Do you mind?"

I heard him emphasize the word wife, thought to myself that he had a nerve as he took hold of my upper arm and led me to the nearby restaurant/bar. Kaden's eyes followed me, but she stayed put. I hoped she wouldn't leave without me.

Mason pulled me to the bar and held one of the high stools for me. I hesitated, not sure I wanted to be here right now, not sure I had the energy for this. I looked up to see Kaden still watching and I felt myself settle again. The minute I didn't want to be with him anymore, I was pretty sure she would make that happen.

I finally took the seat he held for me. He sat down beside me.

"Babe, why didn't you call me?"

I finally looked at him. Looked into those warm brown eyes that had swept me off my feet years ago. But I wasn't feeling that way now. Now, all I could think of when I saw him was that room, the filthy, dirty room, where they had me chained...and the men, lying beside me, on top of me, forcing their way onto and into my body while I was drugged...

"They told me you said for them to keep me. Keep me because you didn't have the money. Is that true?" I whispered the question, but I could tell from the look on his face he'd heard it...and he heard the emotion beneath it.

"Until I had the money, babe. I was trying to find ways to raise it, but it was $125,000. They said you were fine, that they were just going to keep you until I came up with part of it."

I stared at him, "fine? Fine? Are you crazy? I was drugged and raped Mason. Over and over again. They had me chained up like a fucking dog!"

I knew I was raising my voice. I looked over to see where Kaden was. She'd moved closer to us, still watching.

"Babe, is that what she told you? That didn't happen, babe. I asked about you every few days, called to see how you were doing. They told me everything was fine. You think I would have left you there if they were raping you? If they had you chained up? Come on, you know better than that."

I could feel my mouth drop open, the blood rushing from my face. I felt a little lightheaded. Was he kidding?

"You know, women like her?" He continued, "they're predators. They like the challenge of sleeping with married, straight women. Breaking up a happy home. That's why she told you all that bullshit, so you would feel indebted to her. That's why she keeps throwing her money around. She's going to try and have sex with you next, I guarantee it."

I stood, my legs a little shaky. I had to get away from him. I was growing angrier by the second. If I didn't move, I might actually reach out and try to choke the life from his body.

When I turned to leave, she was there, taking hold of my arm, steadying me.

"Get your damn hands off my wife."

That was Mason saying those words in that harsh, threatening voice. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Babe, let me take you home, we can finish talking," Mason offered desperately.

"She's not going anywhere but upstairs."

"Who the fuck do you think you are? She's my wife."

I couldn't deal with this. I simply turned and left the restaurant, making my way to the elevators, hoping she was behind me, praying she would protect me from him. Mason followed us, I heard the desperation in his voice as he continued to try to reason with me, recognized the sound of panic...but I didn't care. How could he think I'd made it up? How could he convince himself that nothing had happened during that month? How convenient was that for him? A perfect way for him not to take any responsibility for what had happened to me.

I stepped into the elevator, Kaden right behind me. When Mason tried to enter, she stopped him.

"Izzy, don't do this. You're making a mistake. I told you who she is, what she's trying to do. Don't do th—"

I was relieved when the doors closed, cutting him off. We rode up in silence after she used her key card to access the penthouse. I waited for her to open the suite door and then I headed straight for the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and climbed into the bed, pulling the heavy comforter over me.

I just lay there...I couldn't sleep. There were a million thoughts going through my head...and a sense that maybe it hadn't happened. Maybe I'd been in a drug induced state and imagined everything. Maybe I'd had a break with reality and I hadn't killed a man. I didn't mind that thought. I didn't want to think of myself as a murderer. What Mason said made sense, didn't it? I mean...wasn't my version of the incident exaggerated? Extreme? Unbelievable? Why couldn't I just accept his version?

Those questions kept going around and around in my brain...until I heard a soft knock on the door. I didn't answer. I didn't care to. Still, the door opened and she entered. I watched as she approached the bed and sat on top of the comforter beside me.

"You okay?" She asked softly.

"He didn't believe me," I filled her in.

"About what?"

"Everything. He said I made it up. Actually, he said you made it all up. That none of it happened. It's all just part of your grand scheme to fuck me."

Okay, so when I said it out loud, his version did sound absurd.

"I made up a story about you being kidnapped by a gang because your husband owed money? About you being chained to a radiator and raped? All so I could sleep with you?" She asked incredulously.

I nodded.

"Is that what you believe happened?" She asked me.

I finally met those dark, comforting eyes, "I don't know. They gave me a lot of drugs. Maybe I imagined it."

She stared at me silently, waiting. I'm not sure for what. Finally, she sighed.

"Isa, I stepped over a dead body to take that collar off your neck. Your body was, is, covered with cigarette burns. You had blood between your thighs when I helped you shower. I had the doctor give you penicillin and start you on a HIV prevention regimen. You didn't imagine it."

I continued to stare at her. It was clear she wasn't lying to me. She didn't seem to be spinning a tale so she could be the hero. In fact, if she really wanted to get me in her bed, wouldn't she tell me what I wanted to hear? Because I so desperately wanted to think I'd made it all up.

"Why can't I pretend it didn't happen if he's pretending?" I asked softly, desperately.

She reached out to brush a strand of hair from my forehead.

"Because if you refuse to admit it happened, you can't move forward. You can't heal. It would slowly take over every part of your life."

I kept staring into those beautiful dark eyes...

"I don't want it to be true," I finally whispered, ignoring the tears on my cheeks.

She nodded, "I know."

She didn't back down, didn't let me pretend, not even for an evening...not even for a minute. I stared into those eyes, those dark, amazing eyes that took hold of me...calmed me...soothed me. I reached for her hand and held tight.

"You paid another $125,000 for me," I said as I started to drift toward sleep.

She chuckled, wiping the tears from my cheeks, "go to sleep, Isa."

I could feel her settle in beside me as I slept.

***

We stayed in her penthouse for another few days, but I could tell by the increase in the volume of her phone calls that Kaden needed to leave. She had a business to run and she couldn't do it from a hotel suite in Philadelphia. As we sat eating breakfast one morning, I broached the subject.

"You don't have to stay, you know. I can take care of myself."
She looked over at me, nodding, "I know that."

"If you have to go—"

"I need to be in Africa for a few days. Why don't you stay here until I get back?"

I shook my head, "you have a life Kaden. You can't drop everything indefinitely for someone you barely know. And I can't keep asking you to pay for things, like this suite. I'm going to have to deal with him and my life eventually."

She nodded, but I don't think she was listening to me.

"I have a condo in Manhattan. Why don't you stay there for a week or two?"

I forked fluffy scrambled eggs into my mouth, not really tasting them. I noticed my hand was trembling a little and I hoped she hadn't seen it. She was worried and I understood that. And I really appreciated it. But I couldn't hide out in New York City, as lovely as that sounded. I had to go home, figure out my next step, figure out the rest of my life. And Kaden couldn't do it for me or protect me from it. She'd tried, believe me. Mason had been waiting for me in the lobby two more times before she asked security to keep him out of the hotel. Then we started leaving from side and back entrances to avoid him. But those days were over. He was my husband. I needed to deal with him.

"Where are you going in Africa?" I asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

It didn't work, "a few different places. Look, it's only been a little more than a week. It's not absurd to take a few more days."
"Most people don't get to take a vacation from life after they've experienced a trauma," I offered rationally.

"Most people haven't gone through what you went through."

I couldn't challenge that point. "You did," I reminded her. "How long did you hide out afterwards?"

She didn't answer, those dark eyes watching me. I could see the concern on her face.

"Isa," she started, sighing.

"I'll be fine. I promise. I'll call you everyday and check in, all right?"

"You're not going to New York?" She asked and I heard the disappointment in her voice.

I shook my head, pushing my plate aside, my appetite gone now.

She glanced down at my mostly untouched plate and frowned. "At least eat a little more so I don't start worrying about you right now."

I smiled, impressed by that attempt to push me to eat a bit more. A battle we had been having for days. I snagged a piece of bacon and nibbled on it.

"Happy?"

She smiled...but it didn't reach her eyes.

*

She spent the rest of the day trying to convince me to stay at her place in New York, but by the next morning I was ready to leave. I had a few shopping bags of clothes she'd bought for me while I was staying with her and she put them in the backseat of the cab the concierge had just hailed for me. Then she turned to me, staring down at me as we stood beside the cab. She reached out to gently caress my cheek.

"You'll call me?" I asked softly, hoping my fear and desperation wasn't obvious.

"Of course. Every day."
I nodded, and then moved in to hug her, tightly. I felt her lips on the top of my head as she hugged me back.

"You need me, call me, okay?" She demanded gently. "I'll come."

I nodded again, and then pulled away and slid into the backseat of the cab. She slammed the door, handed the driver a bill and then stepped back.

"Where we going lady?" The driver asked.

I gave him my address and then turned to watch her as he pulled off...I watched until I couldn't see her anymore.

***

***

SIX MONTHS LATER...

***

***

"Have you been sleeping any better?"

I looked across at the pleasantly plump woman with skin as smooth and creamy as milk chocolate. The therapist I'd been seeing for the last few months. Her name was Pamela...and she was great. She pushed me past my comfort zone, challenged me to really think about what was bothering me and why. So, I had to admit that this suggestion from Kaden had really been a great idea. Nevermind the fact that she was paying for it. But what else was new?

"I still have nightmares, but not every night."
"And Mason?" She asked.

I shrugged, "he doesn't seem to want to accept the divorce."

I'd moved into a studio apartment in West Philadelphia. It was a tiny little apartment compared to my three-bedroom house in the suburbs...but it was perfect for me. And it was really all I could afford. Kaden had tried to buy me a 3-bedroom condo, but I'd put my foot down. I needed to stand on my own two feet. She couldn't keep doing everything for me. Like paying for my divorce attorney, one of the best in the c ity. Hiring a realtor to work with me when I needed to find a place to live. Sending clients my way so that my income had doubled in the last three months. It was something I'd been talking to Pamela about for weeks.

"Did he sign the papers?"

I sighed, "Kaden hired someone to take them to him and insist that he sign them. He did."
She laughed, "she hired muscle to get him to sign?"

I didn't laugh. I'd been furious at the time. But the truth was he'd been coming up with every reason in the world not to sign. My lawyer had actually been considering an alternate plan when suddenly the papers were hand delivered to her office by an ex-professional football player who she told me was huge...and quite cute. In fact, they were dating now.

"What am I going to do about her?" I asked, my voice tight and sounding a little desperate.

She raised a brow, "I thought you were going to take it slow. One day at a time?"

Yes, that was the plan. For me not to rush into another relationship while dissolving my marriage. To take some time to work on 'me.' Except...I craved her like a chocoholic craved chocolate. We spoke every day, usually more than once a day. She was typically the first voice I heard in the morning and the last I heard before bed. If I mentioned I had a problem, she helped me solve it. If I needed anything, it was delivered to my door a day or two later. She'd paid the security deposit and three months of rent on my apartment. And, like I already said, she was even paying for my damn therapist.

I was too dependent on her...and not just financially. Pamela told me it was normal, given she was the person who had rescued me from that gang. She'd stayed with me, protected me, giving me a 'time out' and a safe place to process things. She'd been empathetic and supportive. She was my savior in so many different ways...it was normal to feel gratitude. But I hadn't really talked to Pamela about my true feelings for Kaden. She didn't know I'd cheated on my husband with her. She didn't know about our intense, bewildering connection before the 'incident.' And she didn't know the extent of my feelings for the woman now. She would probably say I was just transferring all of my hopes and expectations onto Kaden and that wasn't healthy. And I didn't want my feelings tainted, so I hadn't shared them.

But Kaden was due in town this weekend...and I was anxious. About seeing her, about what I really felt for her, about how she felt about me...about everything. What if it was all in my head? What if it was one-sided? What if things were still explosive between us but I couldn't perform sexually? What if, what if, what if...I'd started having problems sleeping again the last few days. No nightmares...just stress...about Kaden.

"Izzy?"

I looked up, realizing I'd zoned out.

"Sorry, I was thinking..."
"About this weekend?" She pushed.

I nodded, "yeah. I'm a little stressed out about it."

She nodded, "quite normal. Just take it slow. No sex. Nothing too heavy. Just spend some time with her, reconnecting. You asked her not to visit for six months and she respected that. She will respect these next steps also."

I nodded in agreement, but didn't comment. I watched as she glanced at the clock on the table beside the sofa where I was sitting.

"Okay, we're out of time. We're going to start our once a week sessions next week, right? Instead of two times a week?" She reminded me gently.

Another crutch I was trying to let go of, "yeah."

She smiled, "good. Then I'll see you in a week."

I stood and made my way out of the cluttered office. She was a great therapist, but she had serious hoarding issues. There were papers and boxes piled everywhere in her office. She admitted she had a problem and had hired an assistant to help her start throwing things out...I hadn't seen a difference yet. I smiled, a shrink with an obsessive compulsive disorder. It was kind of funny. But I liked the fact that she wasn't perfect. It reminded me that I didn't have to be perfect either. I just needed to be...Izzy.

As soon as I stepped out of the office building in Center City, thinking about stopping for a quick bite before making my way to the bus stop, I sighed. I'm not sure how he'd tracked down my therapist's office building, or the times of my appointments, but he'd been waiting for me every time I left a session for the last two weeks. I hadn't mentioned it to Kaden. I didn't want any more retired football players showing up on his doorstep.

"Mason, I asked you not to come here."

He fell into step beside me, "you won't talk to me on the phone, how else am I going to see you? Talk to you?"

I sighed, "I don't want to see or talk to you right now. I asked you to give me some space."

"And I have, I've respected that request."

"It ends when I want it to, not when you do."

We walked for a few moments in silence.

"Izzy, don't do this. I made some mistakes. I won't make them again. You know I love you."

When he went there, when we started down this road, the end result was never good. And it usually upset me. I hadn't told Pamela or Kaden about this...I'm not sure why. I think I just wanted to handle something on my own...except I wasn't really handling it.

"You don't love me Mason. I'm not sure you ever did. You love gambling. And now drugs. You can't love a person and love those things too."

"Izzy, you know that's not true. I loved you for five years before things got really bad."