Arranged •Jamilton•

Fifteen

Gone

Alexander stood by the car, bags packed to visit his father in Virginia. George was having a family reunion and was insistent that Alexander came home for the summer. Thomas couldn't go, needing to complete the project he was working on.

"Are you sure you can't come with us?" John asked, adjusting his backpack straps. Yes, Alexander had asked John to come with him for the company. His adoptive family could be a bit too much for him on his own and would have rather had his husband attend with him, but John stepped up to plate instead.

"I'm sorry, but I have to finish this." He replied glumly. Alexander nodded, putting a kiss to his cheek before climbing in the car.

"We'll call you." John promised, getting in beside Alexander and closing the door. They drove off and Thomas sighed to himself. He was alone in the giant mansion. He went back inside and started to get to work in his office.

A week had passed without Alexander bothering him. His morning droned on with him writing and re-writing his proposal for the board. Before he knew it, it was dark outside and someone was knocking frantically on the door. He wished Sally was here to make them go away, but he gave her paid leave to visit her family in Georgia.

He opened the door with a groan. There was a woman, short hair hiding her face, but Thomas could tell she was attractive.

"Um, are you okay?" She looked up, a dark bruise on her cheek. "What happened?"

"I'm so sorry to bother you so late at night, but I needed help and no one would answer." She held herself tightly. Thomas, his Southern hospitality showing, urged her inside. He took her to the kitchen, a pot of tea being made. "Thank you."

"What happened?" He repeated the question.

"My husband, Bart Wayles, he's been beating me, treating me awfully." She told him, tears welling in her eyes. "I have nowhere to go! He just left with all of our money!"

"It's okay." Thomas soothed, wrapping an arm around her. "How about I give you a loan and walk you back home?"

"You're too kind." She wiped her eyes. "I'm Martha Wayles."

"Thomas Jefferson." He smiled kindly. "I have some money in my study."

She nodded, following Thomas closely as he walked back to the large office he was just working in. He still had his papers scattered about. It was rather messy and he felt awful having a stranger see how disorganised he is.

Thomas went to the desk, opening up a small compartment with his check book, scribbling a few hundred dollars down before giving it to her. Martha thanked him as he walked her back home. The house was much like his. Large in size and elegant.

"I should head back home." He said awkwardly, turning before his hand was caught in Martha's. Her face was red and her pupils blown.

"Stay?" She asked, resting his hand on her hip. Thomas' stomach went hot as her lips found his neck. Without sexual release for a week, his practically putty in her delicate hands. Martha brought him to a bedroom, sitting him down on the bed. She worked her dress off. "I figure you could use a break?"

In his tired state, he had forgotten about Alexander. He let her work on him and he left, promising himself he wouldn't do it again. He'll forget it ever happened and won't tell Alexander.

But Martha came back. She became his favourite pastime. Then the call came in. He didn't recognise the number and thought it to be Martha.

"Thomas speaking."

"I hope your in good health."