Page 85 of Dissension

With purpose and haste, she speed walks through the airport, dodging past the slow walkers and around the lollygaggers.Welcome to Arizonasmiles at her from various shops as she passes them by. Kara doesn’t feel welcome; she’s not here for pleasure.

Down at the transport level, she heads over to the cab line and gets in. Politely, she informs the man of her destination, feeling her heart lurch as they pull away from the curb. The dry Arizona heat is better than the vast humidity of home, and yet, she’s sweating.

They drive across highways and through neighborhoods, but Kara doesn’t see much of it, her mind miles away. Her phone beeps and she glances down, seeing Nick’s name. It brings a small smile to her lips, knowing he’s thinking of her.

Are you sure you don’t want me to fly down? I can get on the next flight out. I’m worried about you with him.Kara can almost hear his voice in her ear, the skeptical look in his tropical eyes. The steadiness of his hand on the back of her neck.

She types back,I’m fine, bossman. I can handle him.

The phone rings after that short text. She picks it up, amused. “Yes?”

“I didn’t bring you into the firm just to have you call me that, you know.” There’s a small laugh in his voice.

“I thought you might get a kick out of it.”

“Kara.”

“Jeez. Don’t sound so serious, as if I’m going to my own funeral.” She says it lightly, trying to diffuse the subtle concern that she can hear in his tone.

He hadn’t wanted her to go to her father, not after they’ve spent so many nights together discussing their pasts, walking through the things they’ve both tried to pretend don’t exist. They’ve even been seeing a therapist together, working towards what might help them develop a relationship that’s healthier for them both.

It’s a work in progress. They aren’t perfect. Kara is certain they will never be able to fully grow out of enjoying their dubiously consensual play and consensual nonconsent fantasies. Their therapist says it’s fine, as long as they both consent and no one is being harmed. They do, however, ask that Kara and Nick continue with their exercises in helping Nick sustain arousal during normal vanilla intercourse.

A work in progress. He’strying.

“I don’t want that man to hurt you any more than he already has,” Nick grits out roughly.

“He won’t be able to. He’s a small man with petty wants and needs.” It’s taken all these years for her to understand that now. After her run-in with Dieter, she’s certain she’ll never find another person scary again. Because they’llneverbe Dietrich Bittinger. “I know how to deal with him. I’ve known Daddy my whole life. I’ll be home before you know it, Nick.” she tells him softly, trying to ease his worries. “Stop being an overbearing father.”

He makes a noise of disgust. “You know, being compared to your father really lost its charm once I understood what makes you tick.”

“Oh, hush.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Nick says in a softer tone, his voice smooth in her ear. “Call me if you need help. I’ll be there for you. Right away.”

Warmth fills her chest, knowing his words are genuine. They’ve spent a long time together these past few months, trying to repair the broken pieces between them, to make something new out of the remains of their hearts. The joint therapy sessions have been helping too.

Nick hadn’t wanted anything to do with a therapist at first, but Kara had coaxed him into going eventually, working on unraveling his desire for consensual nonconsent.

“Miss you. See you soon,” Kara tells him, unable to say the wordsI love you. The idea of those words scare them both, but they have all the time in the world to determine if they are comfortable with them or not.

“And I you,” Nick replies before hanging up.

He’s become so much more than the arrogant, cold man she first met.

She sits in silence for the rest of the cab ride to her destination. The small screen in the taxi is playing the news while it ticks the fare. The news is once again showing Paxton Brooker being thrown in prison after being found guilty of funding and providing space for the torture ring.

Kara ignores the slimy feeling brewing in her gut. It doesn’t make her feel good, knowing that man went down for a crime he didn’t commit. There’s no changing it though, not without taking her own life into her hands. It would be suicide to utter a word.

The taxi eventually comes to a halt in front of a nice set of townhomes in a quiet neighborhood.

“Miss? We’ve arrived.”

Kara blinks and plasters a watery grin on her lips. Covers herself in graciousness as she says, “We have. Thank you.” She searches in her new luxury purse for her wallet. The fine bag in question appeared at her doorstep one day, courtesy of Claire JonDe’Mare, bearing the handwritten note that said,here’s a bag to help you carry all of Nick’s mental baggage. Many thanks, cheers. Claire.

After paying her fare, Kara exits the cab like a dead woman.

Knocking loudly, three raps with a minute hesitation in between, she opens the unlocked front door and steps inside. It’s a familiar scent that makes her stomach twist and turn. It makes her think of her childhood home, but the scent of her mother’s rose perfume is utterly absent. There’s just the piney scent of forest aftershave and the undercurrent of alcohol beneath it all.

---