Love In Troubled Waters

by S. J. Wilcox

  “See, there it is,” he pointed with a smile, slamming his hands hard on the table so that others were looking at them. “That’s the fire you’re going to need to serve others and help these kids. You have to do it for yourself, not for anyone else.”

  Isabelle sat back down slowly, looking at him quizzically. Had Bradley just said something intelligent and completely correct?

  Chapter 7

  Isabelle was completely aware of all the missed calls and texts that were sitting on her phone, left unanswered for the past couple of weeks. She had even turned down lunch with her sister because she was trying to take the ironically smart advice that Bradley had been giving her over this time. He had made it clear that before she could love others and meet their expectations, she had to work on and focus on herself. She had been sitting in on one of his support groups for ex-addicts and watching him work with the kids, learning what she was about to do for herself. And today was the day she would be on her own, mentoring her own child at the advocacy center.

  She had sent a few emails detailing what she was learning to Liam, but that had been it for contact with him as well, other than the beautiful necklace that sat unworn on her dresser. For some reason, she felt strange when the cold, expensive metals wrapped around her neck. It felt too expensive; like it was worth more than her, so she left it there and would wait until she felt that she had earned its value to wear it.

  Isabelle heard the rumbling sound of a motorcycle engine outside her apartment and knew that Bradley was there to give her a lift to the advocacy center. Though he had his own child to mentor, he promised he would be there for her the whole time in case she got nervous or didn’t know what to say.

  She left her apartment, locking the door behind her before climbing on the back of a very familiar Harley. He had certainly taken great care of it. It didn’t look any older from the last time she’d seen it several years earlier.

  “Are you ready to shine today?” he asked her, always building her up these days. It was almost odd now to remember him as the man who had often cornered her and bruised her, or the man who had sold deadly mixes of drugs to unsuspecting clients on the streets of New York. He was an improved man, sharing his stories with children who could just as easily pull themselves out of whatever mess they had gotten themselves into.

  “I’m pretty nervous,” she admitted, placing the extra helmet on her head and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her cheeks felt warm at the intimate touch, but he seemed not to be bothered one way or the other. “But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  In response, Bradley revved the engine loudly and tore out of the parking lot, clearly going over the speed limit. If she had been any other woman, she probably would have been angry or frightened by his reckless driving, but it was mild compared to the man she used to know; the man she used to kiss passionately, blinding him from the view of the road ahead. In fact, the feel of the wind whipping past was slightly exhilarating, and she wondered why she had never considered getting herself a motorcycle after she finished school and rehab.

  As they pulled up to the advocacy center, Isabelle felt great and ready to start her new life; a life deserving of love with great things ahead. She felt hopeful and couldn’t help but smile at Bradley as they walked in together.

  ***

  Isabelle stood awkwardly next to Bradley’s bike as he took slow drags off a cigarette. “I hope it doesn’t bother you too much, but I’ve learned things go smoother if I maintain at least one small vice,” he commented, glancing over at her. They were standing in the parking lot of her apartment, and she wasn’t quite sure why she hadn’t gone inside yet. The advocacy center had been a rush and difficult, but Bradley had been able to rescue her many times with his strong rhetoric and clear care for the children. It was amazing to see, but she just didn’t know how to give him the compliment.

  “It’s alright,” Isabelle scoffed. “I know exactly what you mean. I have a vice myself, usually alcohol. I always keep some on hand for when I’m feeling a little jittery or depressed. It’s what helped keep me clean and away from the drugs over the years.” She looked down at the ground as she said it, hating to bring up their tumultuous past again. Bradley moved closer and put his arm around her, which she no longer shied away from. He had become a comforting and understanding presence in her life as of late.

  “You don’t have to be ashamed to talk about these things with me, Izzy. We have the same demons, and I have no right to judge you on anything you’ve done.” His words were a wakeup call, reiterating what he had said the first night she saw him at that diner about how those she was surrounding herself with, while great people, would never get what she had been through the way someone like he would.

  “Would you like to come inside and have a drink?” she asked before she could reason with herself otherwise. She was craving the ear of someone who could truly listen to how hard things had been. It was a burden she hadn’t been able to bring herself to lay on her perfect sister or Liam who was busy saving the world miles and miles away.

  “Actually, that sounds great,” he said, squashing his spent cigarette on the concrete below before following her up the stairs into her apartment. Lana had called to let her know that she would be back in a few days, but for now, it was still silent and dark, leaving the two of them alone to drink and talk about their troubled past.

  As the night wore on, Isabelle was able to open up more and more about her experience in rehab and what happened after. She even told Bradley the crushing feeling she experienced after Liam left that had sent her into a depression in which she was afraid she wouldn’t get out of. He was so understanding, and he always knew what to say to make her feel less guilty. He had his own story to tell about finding a sponsor and going to NA for about a year now. She was astonished at how much work he’d done on himself since they had last talked. She’d been so sure it wasn’t possible; that the man before her would never stop being a criminal, drug dealer, and womanizer.

  Isabelle took another sip of the cheap wine in front of her, which she’d probably had a little too much of. But the fuzziness of her head and body felt good, and so did the warmth coming from Bradley’s body next to her.

  “I did all of it because of you, you know,” he told her in a whisper so quiet she almost thought she imagined it. “I never told you before because I was sure you would never believe me. But I think we met up again for a reason. So that I could tell you.”

  This time, it was Bradley who was looking at the floor, and the warmth in Isabelle’s stomach was leading her on, telling her just what she was meant to do. She reached over with her finger and pulled his chin up until he was looking into her eyes.

  “I believe you,” she whispered. “I think it’s important that you know that.”

  His face was so close to hers, their lips not too far apart, and in one instant he was kissing her, the scratchiness of his beard tickling her skin like it used to when she was younger and full of life.

  Suddenly, her body felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing her forward until she found herself allowing him to remove her clothes while her tongue danced inside of his alcohol-flavored mouth. They found themselves bare and entwined on the couch, mixing the new memories of their improved selves with the old wild couple that used to ride around on his Harley and cause trouble all over the city.

  When they were done, the familiarity made her feel a bit nauseous.

  Bradley got up abruptly, practically dumping her onto the floor. “I need a smoke.” He pulled his pants up without another word.

  Chapter 8

  “Bitch, have you been holding out on me!” Bradley yelled as he pulled something from the depths of Isabelle’s dresser, revealing the beautiful sapphire necklace that Liam had bought her. It hadn’t even been that long since she received it, but it felt like it belonged to another lifetime.

  “Wow, this looks like the real deal. Do you know how much money we could get for this?” He yanked her up from the bed, sti
cking the necklace in her face. His fat fingers crunched into the skin of her arms, down to the bone, gripping her in a vice.

  “I don’t even know how much it’s worth and I forgot I had it!” she cried, not wanting to incite any more anger in the man who had been so good at fooling her into thinking he’d changed. Within just a few weeks she had realized that Bradley had just found a new scheme, selling and trading drugs with the kids at the advocacy center while appearing to be an upstanding citizen. He was also into selling women who he believed “owed him”, which she suspected he would eventually do to her if she didn’t shape up.

  Bradley grabbed her by the neck, almost choking her, and slapped her across the face so hard she was sure he’d drawn blood. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him, feeling the first jitters of the day telling her that she needed the drugs only he could provide for her.

  “Don’t lie to me! You’re still holding a candle for that damn goody two shoes, military guy, you can’t stop talking about. That’s why you still have this shit!” He came after her again, attacking her with the necklace itself, choking her, and crushing her with his body before slamming something she couldn’t see upside her head. Her head was ringing, and she could hardly hear because he had hit her ear in the process. Part of her hoped it was just a bad dream and she would wake up in Liam’s arms or at least in her bed without Bradley, but she knew that she wouldn’t be so lucky. She had gotten herself into this again.

  “Please, stop,” she begged hoarsely as he climbed off her, looking like he might come at her for another round. Instead, his face calmed slightly, and he picked up the necklace before giving her one more shove to the ground, banging her body hard into her closet door.

  “Stop being a cry baby. Why don’t you get some drugs into you. The pain will go away. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Isabelle waited to let the tears come until she heard her front door slam and his motorcycle leave the parking lot. The tears streamed down and stung her injured face, as she reached out for the drugs he had left her. She felt completely hopeless. How had she gotten herself into this situation again? How had she been so stupid? Idly, she couldn’t help but hope that this dosage might be the one to kill her so that she could escape the bonds of the life of an addict and Bradley for good. But something in the back of her mind told her there was still hope as her thoughts flashed to Liam and all the beautiful things he had said to her. Even if he would never forgive her for what she had done or love her again, she knew he cared for her. Maybe enough to help her. Even if they’d never be together again he had shown her that life can be beautiful and it’s in those small, awe-inspiring moments that make life so worthwhile.

  She crawled over to the bed, pulling herself up onto it just enough to grab her phone and began to dial Liam’s Skype account, praying that he would be at liberty to answer. Somehow, he was able to respond immediately, and as his gorgeous face came into view, she began to cry even harder.

  “Isabelle? Isabelle?” he asked, panic in his voice. She knew he must be able to see whatever marks Bradley left behind on her skin and her tear-soaked face. “What’s happened? Are you okay? What can I do? Can we call the police?” he begged to know. How ridiculous she felt as she heard the anxiety in his voice, realizing how Bradley had manipulated her into slowly isolating herself from those who loved her once again.

  “I’m so sorry, Liam. I was blind about everything. I didn’t think I was good enough for someone like you. I didn’t think that you would ever be able to understand what I’ve been through,” She tried to catch her breath. “and I didn’t think you’d ever really come back to me.”

  Isabelle cried, and gripped at her chest, trying to stay calm enough to tell him that she needed his help, though she didn’t know what he could do. “I don’t know how you can help or if you even can, but I’m too weak and beaten to get out of here myself, and he’s been staying in my house. I can’t call the police because he’s friends with some of them.” She started to bawl hysterically. “What have I done? I’m so sorry, Liam. I’m so stupid. There are drugs here too and who knows what else. I want it out, I want him out, but I don’t know how or what to do. Can you come? Please say you can come.”

  She felt a wave of unimaginable guilt come over her as she looked into Liam’s eyes and saw that they were red as he was beginning to cry himself. “I can’t leave, Isabelle. I can’t come get you. I want to save you and bring you here with me, hold you in my arms until you’re sure that this is real and that you are indeed good enough for me. I’m powerless here right now. They won’t let me leave unless it’s for a family emergency.” His whole face was red now, and Isabelle put her head in her hands, wondering if she had ruined everything they could have been. “Look, I need you to hang in there, alright? Isabelle, look at me. Don’t do anything stupid, and I’ll do all that I can from here. I’ll make a few calls right now. Maybe I can get some of my old buddies over there to get you out. But you have to let them do whatever is necessary, do you understand?”

  Isabelle nodded in agreement, hoping that whoever it was would get there before Bradley came back. The line went dead, and she knew that Liam was doing everything he could to her help. Unsure of how severe her injuries might be, she also sent a text message to her sister.

  Holly, don’t come for me right now, it’s too dangerous. I’ll explain everything. Hopefully, Liam’s friends will be taking me to the hospital tonight. I’ll have them take me to the one nearest your house. Please come for me.

  Isabelle clutched her phone to her chest like a lifeline, waiting to see who would walk through her apartment door first. Every sound that she heard outside made her jump, and she could feel herself drifting. She had lost some blood, and she knew there was a fair-sized knot on her head. She needed to stay conscious.

  Just as she started to lose consciousness, the door burst open and in walked three men, all large and muscular. “Isabelle?” they called, looking for her.

  “In here,” she squeaked hoarsely, trying to get to her feet to no avail. It wasn’t needed, though. One of them scooped her up like she weighed nothing and began to carry her out of her bedroom.

  “Get her to the car, Jared, and go park somewhere else so he can’t see her when he gets here. We’ll clear the place of his stuff and his stash, flush as much as possible and wait for him to come back so we can give him a clear message.” The man’s voice was authoritative, and Isabelle noticed that he was still in his uniform, as if he had just come from the base. The others were not active duty as they were in jeans and t-shirts.

  She folded her cold, pained body into the arms of the man who had lifted her and gave no resistance as he whisked her away to a white SUV that was sitting at the back of the lot. She was placed in the back seat, and the man climbed in as well, starting the engine. She felt them begin to drive away, and as they did, she heard a familiar roaring engine, making her whole body seize. She laid low and instinctively tried to push herself deeper into the seats as they passed by, heading to a parking lot across the street where they stopped again. The minutes went by slowly, and she became more and more anxious and afraid as they waited. She could not guarantee that Bradley wouldn’t harm the men, or that he wouldn’t have a gun or some other weapon on him. There was so much that she still didn’t know about the evil man she had been mixed up with for too many years of her life.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you,” the man finally said, breaking the silence between them. “Do you know where you’d like to be taken? I would suggest a hospital because you look pretty banged up.”

  Isabelle laid her cheek against the soft cloth of the back seat and sighed, trying hard to get the words out. She had a feeling her windpipe had been damaged in some way. “I want to be taken to Mercy in the city. My sister works and lives nearby,” she managed to get out. “And don’t be sorry. I brought it on myself.”

  “I don’t think any woman could do anything to deserve such abuse. Men like that are lowlifes that prey on good people. After this, I hop
e that you can find the confidence within to know that none of this has anything to do with you.” He shifted in his seat and looked back at her. “Liam really cares about you. As much as I don’t want to see him get hurt or end up with someone broken or troubled, he is a very understanding and supportive guy. If you give him a chance, I am sure that he will prove it. He has been there for me since the beginning and has helped me in more ways than one.”

  Isabelle smiled at the thought of Liam helping another human being find their strength. She wondered how many similar stories were out there from others whose lives he had touched. With that, she soon fell asleep and forgot all about the turmoil she had allowed herself to be a part of once again.

  Chapter 9

  Isabelle pulled into the driveway feeling like she’d had a really productive day. She enjoyed her new job behind the camera, working under contract with a women’s magazine in New York City. She had spent the day at central park, taking the latest cover photo for the next issue that was being planned. The sun was starting to go down and a sense of warmth at the idea of coming home to someone, even if it was just her sister, came over her. She wasn’t alone and she felt very fortunate.

  As she opened the garage door, her jaw immediately dropped to the floor as she looked to the door that led through the laundry room and into her sister’s house

  Liam was standing there looking sharp and as handsome as ever. He smiled at her with his dimples and shining baby blues, holding a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand. He was in full uniform, which meant he’d probably just gotten into town.