The Arrangement

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The Arrangement Page 2

by Jennifer Hartley


  He willed Sasha to look at him. He wanted to give her a smile or a look of reassurance. But she remained stubbornly facing forward and immobile. He could reach out and touch her on the shoulder but he was worried about distracting her.

  “My Dad is often away, but it’s always special when he’s home,” Rocky was telling Barry.

  “Oh? Why? What makes time with him special?”

  “We go camping. Sometimes we stay at home and watch cartoons.”

  “What do you do when camping?”

  “We hunt. Dad taught me how to stalk and shoot. He said I should always go for between the eyes. And I should shoot baby animals because they’re not as fast.”

  “Your father has taught you a lot of things,” Barry remarked. “Which is your favorite?”

  “The hunting.”

  “Anything your father taught you that you don’t like?”

  “Objection!”

  “Your Honor, surely there are things children don’t like that their parents teach them,” Barry was all about smooth, evasive maneuvers. “Like cleaning your room. Having to do the dishes.”

  “Overruled, Mr. Callister,” McMoore told him.

  “Go on, Rocky,” Barry coaxed him. “Is there anything you learned from your father that you don’t like?”

  Rocky shrugged. “Yeah.

  “Care to share?”

  “But he makes me learn some really uncool stuff.” He sounded sullen.

  Barry smiled gently. “What is this ‘uncool stuff?’”

  Rocky crossed his arms and glared at Sasha. “He made me learn the cello. I hate it!”

  “Did he tell you why you must learn the cello?”

  “Objection,” Callister interjected.

  “Overruled,” McMoore snapped. “Continue.”

  “Do you remember why your father wanted you to learn the cello, Rocky?” Barry asked.

  “He said it’s to help out a friend. And she’s innocent. That I’ll have to learn to play the cello.” Rocky said pouting. “I told him, no, but Dad said he liked her and she’s innocent.”

  The courtroom was suddenly silent.

  “Your father liked . . . who, exactly?”

  “Sasha.” Rocky nodded at her. “Dad said she needs help. And she’s innocent.”

  “Why does your Dad keep saying she’s innocent?”

  “Objection,” Callister said.

  “Sustained.”

  “I’ll rephrase,” Barry offered. “Did your father tell you why you must help Sasha?”

  “She’s a friend. He said she’s nice.” Rocky shook his head. “She made me practice and practice. I told her I didn’t like her and hated her. I called her ugly, and she made me practice more. I told Dad I didn’t like her, but he said she’s a friend.”

  “A friend. And innocent.”

  Rocky kept talking. “She’s not his friend. I have friends. I have a friend. A girl. Her name is Mishael. We’re not friends like Daddy says he and Sasha are.”

  Another wave of silence.

  Eric saw Carl urgently whispering to Vince Callister. He shot to his feet. “We call for a recess.”

  “I think not. The court would like to know what Mr. Kane means by his father not being friends with Mrs. Cohen in the way he thinks,” Barry pointed out.

  “Permission to approach, Your Honor?” Callister demanded.

  McMoore bade them to come forward. Barry arrived first. Sasha watched the tensed, hushed conversation. Behind her, she heard a shuffle. She looked up and saw Eric standing beside her, hand reaching for her shoulder. She was quick to take it, needing the comforting press of his skin on her. He just gave her a curious look as her clammy fingers finger wrapped around him. She kissed his palm and held it to her face.

  “Everything will be okay,” he whispered as she stared at him. His moss eyes showed concern.

  She nodded.

  Then Judge McMoore banged his gavel. Even before he announced that the trial would continue, Callister’s sour expression was telling enough. Barry’s remained calm and confident.

  Eric squeezed Sasha’s hand then returned to his seat. Feeling alone, she clasped her hands together, keeping the warmth his touch had left on her. When Barry spoke, she looked up.

  Then she noticed Carl staring at her. Callister was taking down notes, so he didn’t notice his client’s behavior. Sasha glared back at him, refusing to be intimidated anymore. Carl gave her another look before looking away.

  She let out a breath. Cold sweat poured down her spine, down her armpits. She squeezed her hands together and focused on Barry’s voice.

  “Are you alright, Rocky?” He asked the boy.

  Rocky nodded. “Yes, sir. I am.”

  “Now, when you’re not feeling well, you only have to say so, and I will ask the judge for a recess,” he said, smiling at him gently.

  Rocky looked pleased. “I will.”

  “Good. Now let’s continue. You mentioned just a short while ago that you have a friend named Mishael. Could you tell us about her?”

  “She’s in my class,” Rocky offered. “She has stuffed dead animals in her house. She says her Daddy is tax - tax - taxdermy something,” he flushed, frustration on his face at not getting the word right.

  “A taxidermist?” Barry asked.

  “Is that what you call a person who puts stuff in dead animals?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s what he does. It’s cool.”

  “So you have similar interests, then?” When Rocky looked confused, Barry smiled again and said, “You mentioned you liked to hunt.”

  “Yeah. She says she sometimes helps her Dad. One time I helped them too.” Rocky’s eyes sparkled.

  “How did you find it? Helping them?”

  “Really cool. Sometimes it’s gross, but it’s fun. Not like those stupid cello lessons.” Before Barry could speak again, Rocky said, “I really like being with Mishael. She knows all this awesome stuff like tax - taxidermy. And she thinks the cello is stupid. I told her my Dad made me learn because he wants to help out Sasha.”

  “Now, Rocky, earlier, you said that you’re friends with Mishael, unlike the way your Dad is friends with Sasha. What did you mean by that?”

  “Objection,” Callister said.

  “I’ll rephrase. Why are you and Mishael friends?”

  “We have fun,” Rocky answered. “And I don’t make her cry.”

  Sasha tensed. A frown crossed her face.

  “Why do you say that, Rocky?”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained,” Judge McMoore said.

  Barry muttered under his breath, then said, “Have you seen Sasha crying?”

  “Yes. That night Daddy had all these people over. I was in my room - ”

  “Objection!” This time Callister practically jumped from his seat, as did Carl. “Your Honor, we demand a recess!”

  “Again?” Barry shot back, giving him a nasty look. “You asked that ten minutes ago. You didn’t make a good case for it.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Callister. The court shall strike Mr. Horton’s comments from records.” McMoore ordered. He turned to Rocky and said calmly, “Young man. If you could answer Mr. Horton’s question.”

  For the first time since taking the stand, Rocky looked unsure. Carl saw this and yelled, “You’re not going to force my son - ”

  “Muzzle your client, Mr. Callister!” McMoore was getting flushed. “Another word from you, Mr. Kane, and you will be physically removed from this court and held in contempt. Do you understand me?”

  Carl’s glare was murderous as Callister pushed him back in his seat.

  McMoore wasn’t done. “Do you understand, Mr. Kane?”

  Callister nudged at him, and Carl answered with gritted teeth. “Yes, I do.”

  “Good.” McMoore turned to Barry. “You may continue.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Rocky, you mentioned that you saw Sasha cry. Do you see her in this room?”

  “Yes.” Rocky p
ointed at Sasha. “That’s her. She was crying. Daddy hit her, and she fell. You don’t do that to a friend.”

  With the drain plugged, the sink was quick to fill with water. Sasha took a deep breath and plunged her face into the cold pool. She held her breath pulled out. She yanked paper towels from the dispenser and patted her face dry.

  The mirror was not kind. All the color had been drained from her face, leaving only shadowed blue eyes and lips so pale they were almost gray. Her mind and body had been experiencing riotous turns of emotions all day, and it showed.

  From last night’s bliss that went beyond the heavens, she now felt as if she’d been through a war. Inside-out she’d been turned, yanked, pulled, stuffed, beaten, drained. She closed her eyes, aiming to find some quiet even for only a few seconds.

  Rocky had seen everything.

  Everything.

  Every word he said, she felt. Carl hitting her on the jaw. Pummeling her on the stomach next. Making her fall on the floor headfirst. She had been terrified as she saw these happening as if she had stepped out of her body and could only watch as Carl forced a kiss on her while ripping off her clothes. Her weak, watery pleas begging him to stop as his fingers stabbed her pussy. Her cry of pain as his teeth pulled viciously at her nipple.

  “Then a man came, and he was hitting Daddy. I wanted to yell. I don’t like Sasha, but Daddy hurt her. There was blood.”

  Sasha stopped listening as Barry continued asking him questions. Rocky’s voice got smaller and smaller, and at some point, the boy left the stand. Some of the words from the closing arguments drifted to her, and she couldn’t really make them out. The faces around her were a blur.

  She wished for it to end. She wanted to see Eric, drown in his moss eyes, and never leave his arms.

  She only snapped back into the room when Judge McMoore banged the gavel. Barry went to Sasha and told her the next time they were at court, it was to hear the verdict.

  She fixed her hair and left the bathroom. She stopped when she saw Eric waiting for her outside.

  He looked grim. “You look like hell.”

  “I feel worse,” she admitted.

  She fell in his arms, her chin finding a home on his shoulder. Eric rubbed her back, held her. She hugged him back, grateful that she wasn’t alone.

  “Do you need to eat?” Eric asked, setting her away from him but keeping his arms around her waist. He was still looking at her worriedly. “Is there anything I can get you?”

  She shook her head. Food would make her throw up now.

  “You look as white as these walls,” he said as they walked. “You don’t feel faint?”

  “Just hold me, please.”

  He brought her out into the main hall of the courthouse. Ruby, Lena, and Zachary were sitting on a bench. Zachary got up and offered her a seat, and she gave him a wan smile. His gray eyes looked at her with concern too. A silent look passed between him and Eric, then he left.

  Eric kept an arm around Sasha’s shoulders as they spoke with Ruby and Lena. She appreciated that they weren’t talking about the case, and Lena thought they should all go out for a nice meal after this. She squeezed Sasha’s hand, making the younger woman laugh as she declared that she needed a good steak and a large helping of apple pie.

  When Zachary returned, he held a can of soda and a small bag of potato chips. Sasha looked at Eric with mild exasperation but understood. Had it been Eric to get her these, she would refuse. Because it was Zachary, she wouldn’t. She smiled at Zachary and thanked him. The soda was ice-cold. From the slight smile on Eric’s lips, she looked a little better.

  Zachary showed the latest sonogram of his baby. As everyone gushed over it, Eric pulled Sasha close. She leaned against his shoulder, nuzzling against him, breathing deeply at his fresh, clean, and spicy scent. Ruby asked Zachary if they already had names for his baby girl.

  “We’re thinking Ann Marie,” he answered. “Gladys came up with it herself.”

  “It sounds perfect,” Eric told him.

  Later, Sasha excused herself to dispose of the food wrappers. She turned around to go back and nearly bumped into Eric. Without a word, he took her hand and pulled her to the side. People walked past, but no one took a turn toward them. They were standing next to the door.

  “Tell me the truth, Sasha. How are you?”

  Sasha looked at their joined hands, then him. “I’m scared.”

  “Come here.”

  Again, he was there to catch her in his arms. He held her tightly as she bit on his shoulder, wanting to silence the anguished cries that had been wanting to tear out of her. The effort caused her to tremble in his arms. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, caressing her back, dropping kisses on the arc between her neck and shoulder. She clung even more, closing her eyes.

  Eric’s kisses were gentle, more to comfort than to arouse. But Sasha turned her head and took one for her lips, and another. The wall was cold on her back, as cold as she was feeling inside, but the fire of his kisses made them melt.

  He pulled away, and she shook her head, yanking him roughly back to her. A teasing smile, then he was gesturing at the door.

  It was an empty room with a wooden table and two simple chairs. Their lips met again. The desire was extinguishing the last vestiges of fear in her soul. She sat on the desk, spreading her legs to fit him between them. She pulled one his hands from her face to push it between her legs. His kisses faltered, but only for a moment. Then his mouth slammed on hers as his fingers probed through her curls, her slit. There. She must never forget that she had been touched like this with love more than with violence.

  Their foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling. They watched as Eric’s fingers stroked her, the digits getting shinier with each pass. Then Sasha took his face in her hands and kissed him.

  He pulled the panties off her just far enough to bare her pussy and open her. Her shaking fingers fumbled with his zipper, pulling his cock out of his boxers to rub before wrapping her legs around him. Neither noticed the scrap of cotton hanging off her right ankle. Smoldering gazes, ravenous kisses, joining - they were all that mattered at this moment.

  Her gasp was a sharp but quiet sound against his tongue. He held her as her body stiffened, his hips never missing a beat. With her release softening into embers, her mouth could only summon weak half-kisses that were still potent enough to make Eric harder. He scooped her up from the desk as he fucked her, eyes closing as he surrendered at last to the strangling grip of her pussy.

  She shook when he slipped to his knees, kissing her pussy gently before wiping the mess clean with a handkerchief. He straightened up. His face told her he understood and she had to kiss him for that, for always being there, for protecting her. His fingers plucked the panties off her ankle to stash them inside his jacket pocket. Color returned to her cheeks.

  “You will never be hurt again,” he whispered before claiming her lips again.

  They returned to their friends. Barry Horton was with them. He looked a little annoyed.

  “We’ve been looking for you. The jury is back.”

  “Sorry.” They said together.

  Eyes rested on Sasha’s red face. Eric’s arm tightened protectively around her waist. “I thought we’d go out for some air. It was stifling in here.” He said.

  People were filing back in the courtroom. To Sasha’s surprise, Aida and Clinton were already there. Sasha looked at Eric before turning her attention back to them.

  All these people have come for her.

  Eric squeezed her hand, prompting her to look at him. When she did, he kissed her.

  “I’m with you,” he told her. “Never forget that. Promise me.”

  “I do,” she answered, looking in his eyes. She stood up straight. “I promise. I know, Eric.”

  He kissed her again; she pulled away with great reluctance.

  Barry Horton glanced at her as she sat down. Her cheeks warming again, she mumbled, “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

&nb
sp; “You did look like you needed air, Sasha,” he admitted. “I thought you were going to faint earlier. Are you okay now?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Barry glanced in the direction of Carl Kane and Vince Callister. “He’ll get what he deserves, Sasha.”

  “But Rocky…”

  “You can’t worry about him. It’s unfortunate that the boy has Carl for a father, but he’s not my concern.”

  Judge McMoore took his seat, and the court got quiet. He turned to the jury.

  “Will the jury foreperson please stand?” He asked.

  A lean, dark-haired young man stood up. He looked strong, given his wide chest and arms. “Has the jury reached the verdict?” McMoore continued.

  “We have, Your Honor.”

  A clerk approached and was handed a piece of paper by the foreperson, which was then handed to Judge McMoore. He glanced at it then gave it back to the clerk, who returned it to the jury foreperson.

  “What say you?”

  Sasha didn’t realize she was gripping the edge of the table until she heard her nail chip. As she flinched, the foreperson unfolded the paper and read from it.

  “On the charge of aggravated and felonious sexual assault, we find the defendant...” He looked up and stared at Carl Kane.

  “Guilty.”

  Two

  It was like discovering air for the first time. Sasha buried her face in her hands, playing the word over and over: Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. She barely felt Barry putting a hand on her shoulder and telling her he had fulfilled his promise. She straightened up, nodding. Someone must have pulled her up from her seat. Different arms wrapped around her; different fragrances surrounded her. Ruby hugging her tightly brought her back to the present, and Sasha couldn’t help but cry. Ruby thumbed her tears away, smiling, her eyes shimmering with tears too.

  “You were so brave,” Ruby whispered before kissing her on the cheek. Then they were hugging again, rocking in each other’s arms.

  By the time Eric was holding her, Sasha was leaning heavily against him. His strength never wavered, not once did he try pushing her a little away. He held her like he wasn’t letting go. She hoped this would be the case.

 

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