A Bedtime Story (12 page)

Her eyes opened wide with instant terror. “Sir, please,
no
…”

“Hold your arms up,” he ignored her plea.

She obeyed. With gentle fingers, he lifted her T-shirt over her
head and threw it to the floor. She watched it fall, her bare breasts now exposed,
then looked back at him. “Please, sir, please don’t…”

He continued to ignore her and proceeded to unbutton her jeans,
pulling down the zipper, while looking her in the eye with a wolfish grin. Her heart
pounded in her chest, her eyes desperately pleading her case. Unaffected, he bent
down to lower her jeans, then, kneeling on the floor, commanded her to raise one leg
after the other to remove them.

“Sir?”

Still kneeling on the floor, he looked up at her inquisitively.

“Please… don’t hurt me…”

He let out a soft chuckle, then stood back up under her terrified
stare.

“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked softly as a defenseless
child. With an amused smile, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him. He
kissed her, very softly, his lips savoring hers. When he pulled back, her eyes were
still closed, her chin lifted toward his, still lost in the moment.

“You will do what I say, as I say it, without question, hesitation,
or delay. Is that understood?”

She nodded repeatedly, her eyes conveying the conviction of a
drowning man whose been thrown a rope.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He kissed her again, his hands still on her hips. With his lips
still pressed against hers, he commanded her to open her mouth.
His
tongue invaded every inch, his kiss turning voracious as he brought her arms up and
wrapped them around his neck. Then he brought his own down her back. His fingers
grazed her ass, drawing little circles over her underwear. In a firmer grab, he
picked her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around him for support. He carried her
to the bed without breaking the kiss, kneeling on the mattress and gently laying her
on her back. She opened her eyes, stared at him intently, consumed with excitement
and apprehension. He responded with an indulgent, reassuring smile. His body over
hers, he unwrapped her arms from his neck and directed her to grab the posts on the
headboard.

“Keep your hands there, no matter what.”

“Yes, sir.”

He leaned back, still kneeling between her legs. His fingers
traveled the length of her body, barely grazed every surface, lingering on her
breasts, circling her hardened nipples. He then lowered her underwear, very slowly,
his fingers tracing the outlines of her thighs and legs, and bent her knees together
to remove them. Her panting only increased as he gently deposited the palms of his
hands on her knees to wedge them apart, and she resisted the pressure.

“Open your legs.”

She blushed, feeling the juices flowing in her private parts,
already missing the cover of her panties. She obeyed, exposing herself, and felt
self-conscious with the moistness dripping from her.

Kayne remained still for a few moments, savoring his willing prey.
He was in awe, of her beauty, of her vulnerability. In knowing that she was
irrevocably his for the taking. He let his fingers glide across the surface of her
soft skin, on the outside of her legs up to her thighs and back. He removed his
shirt and threw it to the floor before leaning forward, hovering over her naked body
with a feline grace.

“Close your eyes,” he breathed in her ear.

He wanted to offer her the cover of darkness, ease her into the
exhilaration he knew he could bring her by demanding her
complete
submission. He moved down her body, kissing every inch of her, taking her breast in
his mouth and swirling his tongue around her nipple as she moaned in response. His
fingers then dipped down her belly and touched her wetness as he continued to kiss
and nip her firm soft breast. He felt her panting increase, her moans coming closer
together, and he brought his face close to hers.

“I know you want to come,” he hoarsely whispered into her ear.
“Don’t you dare without my permission.”

A loud moan escaped her lips.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes… yes, sir,” she panted.

“Good girl.”

He brought his mouth to her slit, his tongue continuing the sweet
torture his fingers had initiated. He could feel her tension building up, her
wetness on his lips, as she unconsciously wreathed under him. He steadied her limbs,
firmly pinning her hips on the mattress.

“Sir… Sir,
please
,” she cried out.

He didn’t respond. He wanted to hear her say the words.

“Sir… please… can I… come?” she panted.

“Come,” he commanded gruffly, as his middle finger penetrated her
entrance. He felt her muscles clamp with her orgasm, her whole body spasm then go
lax, as she almost screamed her release. He licked his lips with delight, staring at
her hungrily as he removed his jeans and then lay his body over hers.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, her face still flush. She wished she hadn’t
upon seeing his warm smile. It cut right through her. She could barely accept the
effect he had on her body. She couldn’t face the turmoil his smile brought about in
her shattered world.

She could feel his erection rubbing against her, bringing the ache
back. However, this time it went deeper. Her body didn’t simply
want
physical release. She felt the need to have him inside her, to fill her up.

“Ask me,” he commanded as he continued to rub himself on her. Her
eyes watered with shame. “Fuck me… please, sir…”

He grunted, resting his elbows on each side of her head, his
fingers caressed her face. His first thrust was slow, entering her inch by inch,
until he could feel her inner wall. He pulled out slowly and reentered her, his
rhythm picking up with every thrust.

She could feel a second orgasm building up, now that she knew what
it was. She had made herself come before, but he was the first man to give her an
orgasm. Realizing she could no longer hold back, she panicked at the idea of coming
without his permission, and mad with pleasure, she screamed out, “Sir! Sir,
please…”

“Again?” he taunted her, his smile devilish.

“Yes… yes…” She was beyond shame, in a place where only physical
pleasure existed.

“Come for me, Laura,” he whispered in her ear as he fucked her
relentlessly.

Her moan was low and long, immediately followed by his guttural
growl as he found his own release. He collapsed on top of her, both panting against
each other.

He finally raised himself on his elbows, cocked his head to the
side, eyeing her playfully. He planted a kiss on her forehead before he rolled
himself over to her side. She was still breathing fast, looking at him through a
haze of confusion.

He then turned on his side to face her and turned her around as he
brought her to him, spooning her affectionately. He kissed her hair and caressed her
arm as she nestled against him.

“Laura...”

His voice came to her disembodied. She was still lost in the
moment, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. “Hmm?” came her
absentminded answer.

“Laura.” His voice was stricter, demanding her
attention as he stopped caressing her.

The slightest shift in his mood was enough to snap her back to
reality. “Yes, sir.”

“You asked me to help you…”

“Yes…” she answered wearily. She didn’t expect him to bring it up,
in this moment, as she lay in his arms, naked and spent.

He moved behind her, then placed a very familiar-looking postcard
in front of her. Her heart clamped, and she felt her chest tighten. She instantly
jumped out of his embrace, reaching for it. “Where did you get this!” she almost
screamed, as her fingers lovingly caressed the postcard. She turned back to him,
sitting up, eyeing him with terror as she awaited his explanation.

He sat up on his elbow; his voice soft, he ignored her question.
“Where is he, Laura?”

Her heart skipped a beat. It was all a scheme to get her to speak,
the seduction, everything.
He only fucked her to get her to talk.
She felt as
though she got punched in the gut. Betrayed, used, enraged, and hurt, she didn’t
know how to feel or which emotion was worse.

“You used me…” she finally said, her face expressing the repulsion
she felt toward him. “You really are a monster.”

He sprung up and pinned her back on the mattress. “
Am I
?” he
growled. “Who do you think has been protecting you all along? Huh? Who do you think
stopped them from interrogating you? Your guardian angels?” His voice was low but
jerky. “No, Laura… It’s a
monster
that’s been keeping you all safe and warm
in your ivory tower,” he hissed. “I could’ve left you. Dimitri wants you. Maxwell
wants you. Do you think they would have shown you the patience I have…?” He laughed
sardonically in answer to his own question.

Then his tone softened, as did his hold on her wrists. “I
am
helping you, can’t you see that?”

Tears fell to the side of her face, drops forming
on the pillow. She remained quiet, turning her gaze away from him.

“Look at me, Laura.”

She did, her eyes holding a resigned intensity. He rested his
forehead against hers and breathed a long sigh before meeting her gaze again.

“They will find him… soon. We tracked him down to Chicago. It won’t
be long now.” He broke the bad news, his voice soft.

She closed her eyes to the flood of silent tears rushing down her
cheeks.

“Trust me, Laura, you would rather I find him first. I will go
alone.”

“To kill him…”

“To retrieve the information he stole. I’ll make sure he doesn’t
suffer. Believe me, Laura, it’s the best option you have.”

“No! No!” she sobbed. “You can’t kill him!”

“I can’t let him walk,” he admitted, his face grave.

“No…” she repeated in broken sobs.

“It will be quick and painless. I give you my word.”

“
No!
I can’t… Please…” She was gasping for air.

“Even if I could, Laura, it would just delay the inevitable. When
they find him, it won’t be quick. They will torture him. He will be
begging
for death. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” “No… no... But he would still
have a chance… They’ve been hunting him for eight months. He’s good, they won’t
catch him...” she pleaded desperately, her whole body convulsing with uncontrollable
sobs. “Please... Kayne… Please…”

He considered her for a moment then leaned closer, kissed her
temples, and brushed her hair away from her face.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” she asked, disbelieving, waiting for the confirmation that
she had finally lost touch with reality.

“Tell me where he is. I won’t kill him,” he
asserted, his eyes locked with hers.

He reached for the postcard and handed it back to her. He rolled
off her, sitting up, while she pushed herself up and leaned her back against the
headboard.

Her fingers traced the little patterns on the card lovingly, and
she brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.

“Promise me.” She finally looked up at him.

“I promise.” He nodded, his eyes solemn.

She gazed at the card, the fatality of it dawning on her. She felt
numb, felt herself going out of her body and witnessing a stranger dictate the
address, down to the street and apartment number.

“How do you know?”

She proceeded to explain the infantile and yet complex coding
system her brother had invented, interchanging letters and numbers following math
equations to determine the city and state, their arrangement dictating which
characters stood for which. A square meant a residential building, a rectangle a
motel, characters within a circle determined a room or apartment number, and so
forth…

He sighed, slowly getting off the bed and reaching for his
shirt.

“Are you leaving…
now
?” she asked, her voice growing shrill
with panic.

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead in response.

“Wait…
wait!
”

“Try to get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He offered
her a weary smile, and just like that, he was gone.

***

Laura remained still, in shock. Everything had happened so fast.
She was unsure of what happened, so much, too much, in one short night. She looked
back at the card, realization creeping up on her. She took it in her hands and
kissed it over and over again,
as tears rolled down and fell on the
thick paper, diluting the blue ink. But he promised,
promised
, he wouldn’t
kill him. She clung to this promise, to the only hope she still had that kept her
pieced together. She slid herself under the covers, bringing them over her head just
as she had when she was a little girl, and stared into nothingness, her mind
completely blank.

K
ayne found himself in a messy, dirty
apartment. It was past eleven at night, and he was tired, going on almost
forty-eight hours without sleep. He had driven all day. It hadn’t taken him long to
retrace the given address. He removed a heap of dirty clothes off a beat-up
armchair. Wearing a suit and black leather gloves, he dusted the seat before
sitting, pulled his silencer from its holster, and rested it on his lap. Patiently,
he waited.

The door unlocked, and a man walked into the living room, looking
disheveled. He was wearing dirty clothes, his face gaunt, and his body impossibly
thin. He was carrying a grocery bag, containing everything but groceries. Twitching,
he deposited it on the only remaining space on the table as Kayne remained silent,
waiting for the man to notice him.

The man finally turned around, his look of shock quickly
dissipating into resignation. “I should’ve known it would be you…” Peter smiled
bitterly.

“It’s been a long time,” Kayne conceded. He had actually gotten
along with Peter back then. There was a mutual respect between the two. Kayne never
forgave Peter for his betrayal, took it even more personally due to their closeness
at the time.

“Yup. How did you find me?”

“Take a seat, Peter.” Kayne waved the gun toward the sofa. Peter
looked around, sighed, then dropped to the sofa facing Kayne.

“Laura,” Kayne explained with this one word.

Peter instantly snapped up, his eyes full of venom.

“What have you done to her?”

“Sit down, Peter.”

“Answer me, you son of a bitch!”

“She’s fine.” Kayne raised his voice. “Sit
down.”

Peter hesitated; he knew Kayne. He knew he didn’t lie. For the
first time, he felt shame. He hadn’t felt shame when he begged for money, stole, and
mugged, when he squatted and went through trash. But now, hearing his sister’s name
from that man’s mouth, knowing he was the cause of it, he realized the scum he
was.

“She’s fine, Peter, no harm has come to her,” Kayne reassured him,
his tone softer.

“She gave me up that easy, huh? Good on her...” He smiled sadly as
he reclaimed his seat.

“No. She hasn’t.”

“Okay…” Peter added, confused.

“I gave her my word I wouldn’t kill you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“The case file.”

Peter nodded, went rummaging through a heap of broken things and
dirty laundry, then pulled out a USB key.

“Here, it’s all there. I destroyed the folder. I transferred it
onto this key.” He handed it to Kayne. “Where is she?”

“She’s at my house, under my protection.”

Peter exhaled the breath he’d been holding, relief washing over his
face. “So that’s it? You’re just going to let me walk?” He laughed,
disbelieving.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yeah... Dimitri can sure hold a grudge, can’t he?” He chuckled
bitterly, his eyes defeated. “I just couldn’t, Kayne, I mean, I know I’m no fuckin’
Captain America, but the women trafficking… I just couldn’t…” He shook his head. “I
kept thinking of Laura, you know? What if someone did that to her?”

Kayne gave a small nod.

“What about Laura? Dimitri will want you to get rid of her… a
liability
…” he uttered, disgusted.

“I won’t. I’ll keep her safe.”

Peter considered him a moment. “You… care about her…” He wasn’t
asking; he was just voicing his incredible realization. Turned out,
Kayne Malkin
did have a heart after all
.

Kayne remained impassive as Peter smiled at his old friend.

“You promised her you wouldn’t kill me?”

Kayne nodded again, this time the move more deliberate.

“But you have to.”

Kayne reached inside his pocket and brought out aluminum foil and a
syringe. He deposited them on the table. “It’s good stuff.” Peter laughed, his face
surly. “And if I don’t… You let me walk?” “If you don’t, Dimitri will have her
interrogated. In two days. That’s all the time I could get.”

Peter’s face dropped; he understood. Kayne meant to keep his word.
He wouldn’t kill him. Peter would have to do it all by himself, or Laura would pay
the price. The two men stared at each other in silence. Peter finally nodded, his
face somber, his body relaxing, finally accepting his fate. He stood up and reached
for the package.

“You know... I was trying to quit… shit is bad for you,” he joked,
disheartened. They quietly chuckled together. “What about Dimitri? Doubt he’ll be
too pleased with an overdose…”

Kayne simply waved the gun in response.

“You thought of everything, huh? Well… can you wait ’til after the
high?”

It was such an unusually morbid conversation, undertaken with calm
pleasantries. Peter, much like his sister, always resorted to humor, even in his
darkest hour.

“I’ll wait until it’s all over. The gun’s just for the pictures,
for Dimitri’s benefit.”

Peter threw his head back, smiling tight-lipped with understanding.
“Can I write her?”

Kayne closed his eyes in acknowledgment, and Peter
went scavenging for a paper and pen, then began cooking the heroin. He scribbled
away on a paper he handed to Kayne, then went back to filling the syringe.

“Take care of her.”

“You have my word.”

They nodded at each other, their eyes grim.

“Well… Cheers, mate!” Peter raised the syringe.

Kayne smiled back at his old friend one last time.