Chapter 5

Taylor

After an episode of me yelling and throwing everything I could with my good arm, which equaled a lot of nothing, Izza and Mimi left me alone in the room. After I finally managed to get up and move around, I checked the doors and the windows. The door was locked from the outside – not weird at all – and the window was obviously too high for me to even consider an option. The surrounding houses were far enough away that no one would hear me scream. I could see the backyard from the room I was in; at least two acres, maybe more. I saw bicycles, toys, a trampoline, and a playground set, but I hadn’t seen or heard any kids. In fact, I hadn’t heard anything in a while. I closed the curtains and slowly made my way to the door. “Hello? Is anybody here?” I waited for a response, but heard nothing. “Isaac? Are you here?” I asked as I knocked on the door. Why was I knocking?

            “Back away,” he said.

            Why did his voice scare me? Did I expect him to not answer? “Okay,” I said as I moved away from the door. He opened it, but didn’t come in.

            “Are you hungry?” he asked.

            So, basically I was supposed to be okay with this situation. He waited for an answer, so I shook my head yes.

            “Do you want me to bring you something or you want to try and go downstairs?” he asked, concern lighting his features.

            This wasn’t confusing at all. “Are you just going to keep me here?” I asked. He looked insulted.

            “You can leave whenever you want. I’m not keeping you here,” he said.

            Where the hell was I supposed to go? I still had no idea where here was. “Where’s my phone?” I asked. Without a word he disappeared down the hall. I stepped into the hallway and looked around. A stairway was to my left, more rooms to my right. I could see the living room from where I stood. This house was beautiful. And huge, definitely huge.

            “Here,” he said as he came out of a room.

            This had to be a joke. A horrible, horrible joke that only he was in on. “What am I supposed to do with a dead phone?”

            “You want me to charge it for you?”

            No, I always kept a dead phone handy. “I need to call my husband.”

            “Why?” he asked as though I’d insulted him again.

            What did he mean why? Why wouldn’t I call him? “I’ve been missing for a week.”

            “Do you want me to take you home?” he asked.

            Should I not want to go home? “Yes.”

            “Do you want to eat first?”

            “No, I want to go home.”

            “Come on,” he said and reached for my hand. When I didn’t give it to him, he took it. “This would be much easier if I carried you,” he said as we slowly made our way down the stairs.

            I briefly wondered if he was the one who carried me that night. “I’m fine.” I was lying; everything throbbed painfully. I had to clench my teeth to even speak to him.

            “You have three broken ribs, a concussion, a sprained collar bone, and bruises all over you. You’re not fine,” he argued.

            I stopped moving and looked up at him. I’d never met anyone with black eyes before. “You said the guys who did this to me were indisposed. What does that mean?” He looked away, but not before I caught a trace of something in his eyes. Guilt, maybe? Why would he be guilty if he saved me? “Why did they do this? I gave them everything I had.” I knew asking a question like that was naïve, but it was the only thing keeping me from asking him other questions he apparently didn’t want to answer.

             “It should have never happened. There’s no excuse for what they did,” he said.

            “There has to be an excuse. People don’t just do stuff like this for no reason,” I said.

            “In my world they do,” he said before gently scooping me up into his arms.

            I wanted to protest, but my mind went back to that night. It was him; he carried me.

            “Put these on,” he said when we reached the bottom step.

            He slipped a leather jacket around my shoulders before squatting in front of me to put a pair of sneakers on my feet. They actually fit. I was sure confusion was written all over my face, but he ignored it with a half smirk. I winced and took a step back when he opened the door. The cool air that greeted us reminded me that we were well into the beginning of winter. I hated winter. He grabbed my hand and led me to a black Mercedes parked in the driveway. Aaron was a car freak. I was sure he’d love this one although I had no idea what kind it was. I stopped walking as a thought crossed my mind. “Where’s Mimi,” I asked. There was no way I could just show up at home with another man, especially not this man. Aaron would be livid.

            “She works for a living,” he said.

            “And you don’t?” He smiled and gently pushed me forward. “I’ll wait for her. You can’t take me home now,” I said. He ignored me. Didn’t he ask me if I was hungry? “What day is it?” I asked. I didn’t know what I’d missed. They said about a week, but did that mean a full seven days or was he rounding it off. If I was lucky Aaron would be at work.

            “Thursday,” he said as he helped me into the car and buckled my seatbelt.

            “I’m not handicapped,” I said. I could buckle my own seatbelt. He answered with a smile. Lord, give me strength.

            Half an hour later we pulled into my driveway. I thought Aaron would be at work, but panic set in when I saw his car in the driveway. This wouldn’t end well.

            “I’ll leave before he sees me,” Isaac offered.

            Who the hell was this man and why did he have black eyes? Why couldn’t I get past his black eyes would be a better question.

            “You might need this,” he said as he reached behind my seat. “Everything’s in it, they didn’t take anything, but I tossed the other stuff. I doubt the recipient was deserving, ” he said as he gave me my clutch.

            I wasn’t sure what to say. The lawyer in me wanted to ask him a million questions, but the wife in me knew I needed to get out of this car and go inside to my husband. So why was I sitting there staring at him like a jackass? I had no idea. I also had no idea why he was sitting there staring back, unblinking. I broke our trance when a realization hit me. “I didn’t tell you where I lived,” I said. My license had my office address on it.

            “If you wanted to talk we could have stayed at my house. I’m pretty hungry,” he said as he glanced at the house, his lips twitching as he fought a smile.

I couldn’t deal with him. I opened the door and ignored his offer to help me out. I didn’t like his attitude and his confidence was annoying. I wanted to look back at him, but I knew I’d stop if I did, so I checked the contents of my clutch instead. Nothing was missing. I grabbed my keys and slid them into the lock. When nothing happened I double-checked to make sure I was using the right key. I tried again and still nothing. I glanced behind me. Isaac’s car hadn’t moved. What happened to him leaving before Aaron saw him? I tried the key one last time before knocking on the door. Why am I knocking? What would make Aaron change the damn locks? The door opened and I got my answer. There were obviously more people in on this joke. A busty redbone had answered my door and was asking if she could help me. If she could help me!

“What are you doing in my house?” I asked as I pushed the door open. Pain that I forgot about radiated through my body and I leaned against the doorframe to let it subside. “Aaron!”

            “Can I help you?” the woman questioned.

            “Get out of my way!” I wished I could push her, but I would probably hurt me more.

            “Excuse me!! Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

            “Aaron!” I yelled again ignoring her question and trying to shoulder past her. Aaron came out of the kitchen looking as though he’d seen a ghost.

            “Taylor? What are you doing here?” he asked.

            What was I doing here? Had everyone lost their freaking mind? “I live here! Who the hell is this?”

            “Aaron what does she mean she lives here? Who is she?” the woman asked.

            We both stared at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. HE looked as though he couldn’t decide who he wanted to answer. His indecision crushed my heart. Having the truth of the state of your marriage so blatantly thrown in your face was a devastating blow. “I’m his wife! Get out of my house!”

            “Your wife? Aaron, you’re married? Is this some kind of joke?”

            That was the same question I’d been asking all day. It felt kind of good to know I wasn’t the only one not in on it. For a moment she looked devastated, but it didn’t last. Anger quickly surfaced and she turned to me. Fighting was so not in the cards for me; especially not fighting over my own husband, in my own home. I closed my eyes and braced for more pain, but nothing happened. Only her yelling filled the room. I opened my eyes and saw Isaac standing in front of me, blocking me from her assault that was sure to come. He’s still here??

            “You just gone sit there like a fucking pussy while this bitch jumps on your wife or you gone get your ass over here and control her?” he asked Aaron.

            What!?

            “Izza? What the hell are you doing in my house?” Aaron asked.

            He hadn’t moved from his spot in the kitchen. He only stood there in confusion. The woman paced back and forth a few feet in front of Isaac, staring daggers at me, but she kept her distance. I could see how his presence was a force to be reckoned with. Aaron hadn’t even moved an inch. Wait…did Aaron just call Isaac Izza?

            “That shouldn’t be your priority right now! Have you not looked at your wife’s face?”

            Aaron looked me over, but didn’t move. I wouldn’t move either. I expected Aaron to be livid, but Isaac had proudly claimed that title. If I weren’t seeing his anger I wouldn’t have believed he was capable of it. He looked as though he was using every bit of restraint in him to keep from hitting Aaron.

            “Her stupid ass got what she deserved,” the woman said.

            “Bite that fucking tongue and stay in your place,” Isaac said.

            What in the hell is going on right now?

            “What happened to your face? Where have you been?” Aaron asked as he took a few timid steps in my direction.

            “Why does it matter, Aaron? I want her out of our house!” the woman said.

            Our house? I pay the damn mortgage here, enough is enough! “Aaron, I don’t know what kind of game you’ve been playing with this woman, but it ends now. She needs to leave and I don’t care if it’s alone or with you,” I said.

            “I’m not leaving my own house, Taylor. That’s ridiculous,” he said.

            Ridiculous? That’s ridiculous?

            “That ain’t your decision. If she wants you out, you leave, and you need to be quick about it,” Isaac said.

            Aaron looked from him to me. “Vida, I need to speak to my wife,” he finally said.

She looked as though she wanted to say something, but decided against it when she looked at Isaac. Instead she snatched her coat and purse and stormed out the house. I released an exhale I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Alone,” Aaron stated as he looked at Isaac. It sounded like a question.

Isaac turned to me, but kept his eyes on Aaron. The muscles in his jaw twitched, a sure sign of his anger. I called his name and he reluctantly looked away from Aaron. I didn’t know what I expected him to do or say, but he left without another word. I surprised myself by having to fight the urge to call after him. Aaron slammed the door and mumbled what sounded like a curse word before turning to me.

“What the fuck were you doing with him?”

I still had no idea who him really was or how they even knew each other well enough for Aaron to call him by the name Mimi used for him. I ignored his questions and slowly made my way to the guest room. How dare he try and question me? He had no right. He changed the locks. He had another woman in my home. My home. A woman who had no idea who I was or that I even existed. I glanced around the house. Every picture of me had been removed. I’d only been gone a week and he’d already moved on and discarded our marriage. He’d already written me off as though I was some random, as though I was just that easily replaced; that easily erased from his existence. Obviously I was. Silly me.