Page 116 of Isabela

“I’ll get someone to pick me up after I rinse this out,” Madison says, hopping carefully out of the car. Holding the bucket of puke away from her, she starts to walk to the hospital, probably to find a bathroom.

“I like her,” I mumble. The bright sunlight makes my head hurt, and I close my eyes as the stabbing feeling intensifies. Everything feels too loud.

It reminds me that I just bought five people their freedom in the middle of the day. God, this world is so fucked.

“It is fucked, but you’re such a good person, baby,” Gael says softly as he strides through the automatic sliding glass doors. God, I’m talking without realizing it. “Can I get assistance please?”

A nurse hurries over, and that’s when things get really odd. I see her concerned face, and then my face slipping off Gael’s shoulder as blackness takes over.

I wake up to the sound of incessant beeping, which makes me groan. “I’ve been here before, and I don’t like it,” I rasp.

“There’s my drama queen,” Aria says. My eyes feel tacky as I force them open. Her beautiful blue eyes swollen from crying, she crawls into bed with me. “I hate hospitals, and I hate seeing you here.”

Sighing as she snuggles into my arms, I wince as I remember all of the puking. “I probably smell, Aria,” I mutter. “I was so sick earlier. Did they say what was wrong?”

“Your new birth control is not your friend,” Aria admits. “The doctor is suggesting that you go off of it for a while, because it’s possible that after you had such a bad reaction, others will do the same.”

The only reason I changed at all was because the doctor told me that the medication was no longer available.

“Shit,” I murmur.

“I know. I haven’t been on birth control in a year, and Gael and I fuck like bunnies,” she says with a shrug. “It’s not for lack of trying.”

“Do you want babies?” I ask softly. A part of me is worried about going off birth control and ending up pregnant quickly. How would Aria feel about it? Am I really ready for this?

“I do,” she says. “Whether they’re yours or mine, they’re still ours. Do you want that?”

As Aria peeks up at me, I realize I was wrong. I may definitely be ready for this.

“With the three of us, we’d all be on deck to take care of the baby,” Aria says, eyes shining. “I’m hoping you’ll be done with school by that point, but everything that you’re already doing wouldn’t be jeopardized by it.”

“Babies are a blessing,” I say, biting my lip. “I always wished for a sibling, so I definitely want a few.”

“A few what?” Gael asks, walking into the room.

“Babies?!” I squeak out. Shit, I didn’t expect him to come into the middle of this conversation.

“Yeah?” he asks with a slow sexy grin. “If the pussy plugging wasn’t your sign that I want both of you swollen and round with my babies, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

“We were talking about all of the logistics. With taking over the company and the foundation, and fuck the Society, too,” I murmur.

“Little anarchist,” Gael snorts. “I would rather fuck you than the Society. Nothing really has to change, other than you have a play pen in your office, and possibly a baby carrier thing. It’s your company, your rules, okay?”

“I can do that?” I whisper.

“Yeah, you can do anything you want, love. The three women and two little boys are at a safe house, and the psychologist is working closely with them,” he says, closing the door. “The women are having a hard time believing it’s real, which is understandable. They keep wondering if it’s all a trick.”

“God, I can’t imagine,” I admit. “I wish I had a better system to help them reintroduce themselves into society. Jobs, a place to live, that’s not a safe house and a more real home. I feel so over my head.”

“You’re doing your best,” Aria reminds me. “Have a gala where each person’s entrance is their donation. This is the time where rich people are looking for reasons to spend their money before tax season.”

“Where am I going to get the money for that though?” I ask. I wish I had a steadier form of cash flow. There are so many things I want to do.

Gael sits beside the bed, raising his hand. “I could use a tax break,” he says with a wink.

“Gael,” I breathe.

“Gael nothing, Little One. This is important to you, and to us as well. Large tasks done for the Society often need more help than others, and this is one of them,” he says. “We’ll plan a foundation gala for next month, which will help the many people you’re going to assist in getting their lives back.”

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