The Arrangement 3 (The Arrangement 3)

I stare, unblinking. He was married and now Amanda is gone. The woman who wrote the note in his pocket is dead. The grave is old. There’s no freshly turned soil, no indications of a recent funeral. Her death must have been years ago. Sean was much younger then, barely twenty by the look of him. I glance at the headstone again. There’s only one name. Where’s the baby? The lump in my throat grows as I think about what might have happened to them, about what horrors Sean had to have seen to render him the person standing next to me.

Every time I think I know what’s going on, everything falls apart. I feel the anger and disappointment fracture. That wall I forced up around my heart shatters as it falls away. I reach for Sean’s gloved hand and weave our fingers together. Sean lets me. We both stand there, staring, saying nothing.

Sometimes there is nothing to say.

After a few moments, he turns to me glassy-eyed. Sean’s jaw is tense, like he’s ready to bite someone’s head off. His eyes move over my sweats and then return to my face. The wind picks up my hair and throws it over my eyes and mouth. Before I can move my hand to push it back, Sean does it for me. His eyes meet mine and he stares. I can feel him struggling to come back from the dark places in the back of his mind. I see it in his eyes and I know he can see the darkness in mine.

Part of me wants to shut down and push him out. I can’t take what life is throwing at me. The sick part of the whole thing is that there’s a squeaky voice in the back of my head that won’t let me just lie down and die. She never gives up, even when she’s had her ass handed to her time and time again.

Sean looks down at my hand and then back at my face. His voice is soft, careful. “Take me to meet them.” There’s a question in his words, like I have the option to say no. We watch each other carefully. Finally, I nod. I pull him onto the path and we walk back to my parent’s grave in silence.

When I stop in front of them, I say, “This is Sean.” I smile sadly and squeeze his hand. Sean squeezes back. We both stare at the head stone for a moment and say nothing. Finally, I say, “My mom would have liked you. She would have said you were too skinny and tried to stuff an unreasonable about of food down your throat.” The thought makes me smile. She was like that, always trying to fatten my friends up.

A ghost of a smile passes over his lips. “What about your Dad?”

I smile. “Oh, he’d hate your guts. I’m sure of it.”

Sean looks surprised and seriously amused. “And why is that?”

“Because you have heartbreaker written all over you. Daddy would see you coming from a mile away. He would have told you that he’d break every bone in your body if you hurt me.” I smile thinking about it. Daddy always said it teasingly when I brought a guy home, but there was a current of truth there. He wanted to keep me safe and that meant keeping my heart in one piece. Right now my heart has broken so badly that all that is remains is dust.

The smile slips off my lips. Sean watches me. He knows what I’m thinking. It’s almost like he feels the weight of the memory the same way I do. I flick my eyes to the headstone. “They got blindsided that night. So did I.”

“I know what you mean.” His voice is somber, deep. He adds, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Sean says my words back to me, but they seem to have new meaning, like the old adage is a lie and we’re the only ones who know the truth.

I nod slowly. “The thing is—I’m not stronger. I feel like I’m half dead, barely hanging on. Most days, I go through the motions, hoping the next day will be better. Then, some days bitch-slap me so hard that it feels like that night all over again.” As I speak, I stare at nothing. I see nothing. The memories from that night flash through my mind. I shiver and shake it away, refusing to relive the horror again.

“And today was one of those days?” Sean says it so casually, but it’s as if he knows the turmoil that he caused me. I feel his eyes on the side of my face, but I don’t look up. I just stare straight ahead. He sighs and looks past the tree toward his wife’s grave. “Last night, something you did stirred up a memory. I couldn’t repress it. That’s why I left. I didn’t mean to be cruel to you. I’d take it back if I could, Avery.”

Sean’s words should make me feel elated, but the heaviness is too great. His remorse, the pain in his voice strums through me and resonates. I know that feeling. Anything can conjure a memory—a song, a scent, a touch. I glance over at him. “I know you would.”

There are more words to say, but neither of us says them. Death has fucked us both up to the point that we’re barely functioning.

CHAPTER 4

Sean insists on getting me coffee. As we walk back to his car, he wraps his coat over my shoulders.

“Really, I’m fine. It’s better this way.” I try to shirk it off and give the wool coat back to him, but Sean puts it on me again, pressing my shoulders tight.

“No, it’s not. Avery, there are other things to do—ways to feel something besides pain.” Sean glances at me out of the corner of his eye. When we get to his car, he pulls the door open and holds it for me.

“What makes you think that’s what I’m doing?” I stop in front of him. Sean’s warm breath turns white as he sighs, looking down at me.

“Can you seriously ask me that question? Now you know why I avoid New York. Now you know why I’m a deranged fuck that can’t get involved with anyone, the reason why I was looking for a call girl. When she died, it left a hole in my chest. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel it pulling, trying to suck me under. Some days I let it. Some days I can’t stand the thought of tomorrow, of going through the motions again.” Sean speaks with confidence, but his eyes say something else. His hand is clutched into a tight fist. He holds it over his heart, protecting what’s left.

The pit of my stomach falls away as he speaks. I know exactly what he’s talking about. “So you hired me. That’s how you deal with it?” His gaze falls to the side and he nods. A year ago, I would have condemned him for saying something like that, but not now. I’ve been through too much to judge him. Sean’s protecting himself, forcing himself to feel something besides grief. It is the same thing that I do, leaving with no coat.

“So, your sweater and lack of coat might not stem entirely from money issues, am I right?” Sean presses his forehead to mine. A light smile crosses his lips.

I look up at him from under my lashes. “No one has noticed that before. I’m not even sure that I knew what I was doing. I understand feeling cold. I understand what it means and what I should do. But, my God—Sean I don’t understand this.” I gesture at the grave yard. “I don’t know what to do. Days pass and turn into months, but nothing changes. It’s not better. I feel myself getting chipped away. Soon there will be nothing left to hold on to.”

My throat tightens as I speak and I drop my gaze. It feels like someone is strangling me. Admitting that I don’t know how to cope with all this makes me feel weak, like I’ll falter and fade away. This entire time, I’ve carried this massive burden on my own two shoulders. I’ve never said it to anyone, and here I am confessing my deepest secret to the guy who bought me.

Sean pulls me against his chest and holds on tight. I can barely feel his touch, I’m so numb. He squeezes me tighter and tighter until all the air is forced out of my lungs. That’s when he loosens his grip. “There is more to hold onto than you think.” He kisses my forehead and releases me.

I’m aware of the warmth of his moist lips on my cold skin, but I can’t feel the kiss. It has no comfort, no joy. It’s just a touch, like pressing my finger to the tip of a needle. I’ve done that, just to see if I could feel the sharp pain of the needle when it pricked my skin. Instead, the only indication that I should stop was a bead of blood that dripped down my palm.

Sean’s voice pulls me from the memory. “Avery, let’s not waste the day just trying to muddle through it. Let’s do something.” Sean smiles softly at me. “We’ll start with coffee and go from there.” I nod.

Sean holds the door to his shiny black sports car open and I slip into the seat. When Sean gets in and turns on the car, I ask, “No motorcycle?”

“I only ride when your car is in danger of being stolen and right now,” he lifts his chin toward my car, “it looks like it’s in its element.” His voice is lighter, his tone teasing.

“Hey!” I smile at him and add, “Don’t dis my car. She’s been with me through thick and thin.”

“I’ll have her returned to your dorm while we’re out so she can continue to attract scallywags and thieves.” Sean starts the car and glances over at me with a playful look on his face.

I snort laugh, not expecting his lightness. “Scallywags?”

“Yes, and that would be me. The day we met, your little car attracted both types of very virtuous men.” The corner of his mouth twitches, like he wants to smile.

“Yeah, normally I’d shove everyone in the backseat and cruise up and down Deer Park Avenue blasting the radio.”

That makes him smile. He pulls away from the cemetery and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I might be okay.

CHAPTER 5

With a cup of hot coffee in hand, Sean drives without telling me where he’s going. “Seriously,” I ask. “You aren’t even going to give me a hint?”

Sean glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Nope.”

“Well, you suck.” He chuckles, but I talk over him. “Come on, just one little hint.” The hot little cup warms my hands.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Miss Smith.” There’s a faint smile on his lips. Sean drives for a while and after a few turns, we’re at a toy store.

“Reliving your childhood, are we?” I say, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps,” he says, noncommittally, and walks around to open my door. I’m not used to it. I already have my hand on the door, and push it open at the same time he steps in front of the door. The result is instant. The door smacks into his waist and forces out a gush of air the same way as if a fat guy slugged his chest.