A Bedtime Story (26 page)

He took another step.

“Please… stay away…” Her voice jerked with emotion.

He smirked and took another step.

Frantic, she reached for the first weapon at her disposal and
grabbed a butcher knife off the counter behind her. With shaky hands, she held it
threateningly with her arms stretched out in front of her. “Stay away from me… I
don’t want to hurt you,” she managed in between broken sobs.

His smirk widened; he stepped closer and over to her side.

She took a hesitant step backward. “Stay away… I’ll hurt you if I
have to.”

He just cocked his head to the side then closed the distance in one
swift move. He grabbed her hands holding the knife and brought it to his throat. “Do
it then,” he taunted her, a dark gleam in his eyes.

He took the last remaining step, wrapping his free hand behind her
back, and he pulled her to him. “Do it,” he dared, his voice husky in her ears.

“Stop…” she wailed, as the point of the blade
pierced his skin. “Stop… I’m hurting you…” she pleaded in torment, tears raining
down her cheeks.

He didn’t care. Ignoring the pain, he let go of her wrists and
pulled his face closer to hers. When his lips were almost touching hers, he
commanded, his voice gruff with desire, “Kiss me.”

She didn’t kiss him; she let the knife drop to the floor instead
and closed her eyes as tears continued to roll down her face and sobs escaped her
lips.

He took her into his mouth, forcing her lips open with his tongue.
Her body didn’t resist the intrusion. She obeyed like a rag doll as he brought her
arms around his neck and pulled her waist against his. He kissed her with the
built-up hunger that had brewed in his blood for over two months. His wife, his
favorite toy, his obsession.

He wedged his knee between her thighs, forcing her legs apart, and
felt her panting in his mouth. He broke the kiss to stare into her eyes. There was
no conflict there, only unbearable pain. He recognized the sweet young girl he had
met a lifetime ago in those tormented pleading eyes.

“I… can’t…” she sobbed, each word uttered with seemingly enormous
effort. “I can’t do this anymore...”

She wasn’t crying hysterically. She looked him in the eye,
defeated. It wasn’t a plea anymore. She was stating the truth she had accepted with
calm finality. Kayne unconsciously responded by loosening his grip, though his eyes
remained locked on hers. “I can’t... I have nothing left. You’ve taken it all. I
have nothing… Nothing...” she repeated in a soft though resolute voice. Emptiness
replaced the pain as bitterness crept in her voice. “I look at myself in the mirror…
. I don’t recognize that girl. I
hate
that girl… And I have to live with it.
Every day
. You will never hurt me more than I’ve already hurt myself.
Punish me if you have to… I won’t fight you.”

The iciness in her words traveled through the air,
rendering the room a frozen wasteland, and like an arrow, right into him, paralyzing
him.

It took him a few seconds to snap out of the hypothermia engulfing
him. He stared at her blankly. Her words still echoed in every corner of his mind,
making their way through his whole body, like venom seeping into his veins. His
expression was unreadable as he let go of his grip completely, turned around, and
exited the room.

How long she stayed by herself staring at the abandoned knife on
the floor, she didn’t know. She went back to her room, took off her sophisticated
makeup, and for the first time in a very long time, pulled out the grey yoga pants
and purple hoodie that used to be her daily uniform.

She curled into a ball and cried without restraint into her
pillows. In that moment, crying shamelessly in her beloved attire, she almost felt
like her old self again. She smiled through the watery curtain on her face. She
missed
her
. Scared, awkward, clumsy little Laura, she missed her so much. She
missed seeing the world through her eyes, loving Kayne with her devoted innocence.
Laura Malkin had brought her the strength to survive Kayne; only Laura Spencer
allowed her the frailty to be with him.

She was cried out. She continued to rub her already puffed-up red
eyes and stared at the ceiling as the idea rooted itself in her mind. She could not,
would not fall asleep on her own, knowing he was but a staircase away. She would
find neutral ground where they could both meet. She would conjure it from willpower
alone if she had to.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, Laura couldn’t help but think back to
another story Olga had told her. It was the story of two porcupines in love. They
got lost in the middle of the coldest winter night and could not find refuge. All
night they suffered. When they remained too far from each other, the claws of the
cold ripped through them. When they sought warmth by each other’s sides, their own
spines pierced and bled them. All night they bled and froze, constantly adjusting
and readjusting. By the crack of dawn,
a little girl found two
porcupines asleep peacefully, close enough to ward off the cold, far enough not to
hurt one another.

Upon reaching his bedroom door, Laura took a few long breaths to
calm her trepid heart. Her knocks were so subtle, she hoped they wouldn’t be heard.
She wondered if she would find her beautiful monster asleep and nonthreatening or
awake and on his guard. She didn’t wait for her courage to leave and softly pushed
the door open.

Kayne was sitting up on his bed, his back against the headboard,
one leg bent up, the other flat on the mattress. His hair was loose and tucked
behind his ear; he looked dangerously calm and nonchalant in his undershirt and
khaki cargo shorts. Once again, he reminded her of a lion or tiger, licking his paws
peacefully before he bared his claws for the kill.

She froze at the door.

He didn’t move a muscle. Only his eyes turned to her, his face
showing no reaction. Cautiously, she took a step in. His eyes were glued to her,
following her every move with animalistic curiosity, yet his body remained lax.

She took another step toward the bed, her eyes returning the
intensity of his gaze, though hers conveyed the turmoil raging within. She stopped
at the foot of the bed, a tentative coy smile taking shape on her features. She
played with the hem of her pants and hesitantly reached for the bottom of her hoodie
then moved back to her pants, awaiting the instructions she hoped to get.

He understood her, he understood her brain process. He would take
the olive branch she offered.
His
beautiful Laura, she had somehow brought
her back and would sacrifice her at the altar, as a peace offering.

He remembered the first instruction he had given her, the reaction
it provoked. The wetness on her face contrasting the one betraying her at obeying
his command.
Take off your clothes, Laura
.

He wanted nothing more than to utter the command and wash away the
bitterness of her earlier words, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to. In this
moment, the jaded lover overpowered the
insatiable sadist. For the
first time, he felt tired. For the first time, Kayne lived in a world that didn’t
bend to his will and laughed openly at his bare wounds. To a Malkin, the only
response was to laugh even louder and cut off the wounded limb.

Faced with his vindictive silence, Laura exhaled and pushed the
limits that had long been broken. She met his gaze, with determination, and removed
her pants. She took her time, making sure to sway her hips left and right as she
wiggled them off her legs.

By the time she lifted her head to meet his, she was not fooled by
his cool composure. Something wickedly promising was already taking shape in his
eyes as he shook his head in disapproval.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he spat at her with a disdainful smirk,
his voice still carrying the bitterness he had willed into condescension.

Laura shut her eyes. When she reopened them, they still carried the
entrenched heartbreak he had seen earlier. The sadness in them, however, was unlike
the cold surrender that inhabited them in the kitchen; those eyes suffered, were
willing to suffer, and dared to hope.

“No.” Her voice was soft as she held his stare with pure eyes. They
contained no remorse or regret, no blame or rancor. It was not a negotiation or an
act of juvenile defiance. It was just Laura, with all her walls down, still
standing.

He stared her down, making her heart race, but she didn’t look
down. She remained standing tall as Kayne snapped to his feet and planted himself
right in front of her. He could sense her fear and, like a dog responded with
heightened senses, every nerve tingling with arousal. A desperate dog howled inside
of him, reached with all its might toward his loving mistress. To him, there were no
past scars, no dead ends waiting, only a beloved body within reach and the promise
of a touch long yearned for. His pained howl was heard, awakening the beast that was
asleep. Kayne narrowed his eyes, he would not surrender to the abyss of pleasure
calling out to him. This would be his biggest punishment
to her yet.
Nothing
. Rejection, it was cancer to a man’s soul, death, to a
woman’s.

He exhaled deeply, studying her face, her controlled breathing, her
terrified eyes holding his gaze. How he loved her in this moment.

“Get out, Laura… before I make you,” he whispered close to her
cheek, his voice, an animalistic growl, warning and seductive.

She didn’t even blink. “If that’s your
order
, I will leave.
But you will never see me again, and you know I would never
dare
lie to you.”
She avowed her own warning through gritted teeth.

Kayne smirked.
Ultimatums, always a bad idea
. What did she
think would happen? That she would pull a knife on him, then meet him in his room
and have him fall at her feet? That the mere mention of her leaving would tear his
world apart? It did. That point, he conceded. What she failed to realize, however,
was that he would tear his world, his own body apart with his bare hands before ever
laying it at anyone’s feet.

He would not stop her. For the first time, Kayne wished she would
lie to him. He remained silent, daring her to walk out with his eyes, supplicating
her not to from his very core.

She waited, pushed her ill-fated faith for as long as she could.
She could sense the conflict in him. Once more, believed in
her
Kayne,
willing him silently to reach for her, to utter anything, just make a sound, and she
would stay.

Her response came only from silence’s deafening buzz in her ears.
She lifted her chin, already held high, with dignity and understanding. She lowered
her head, somewhere between a nod and a bow out. She turned around and lifted her
pants, slowly. She had no tears to fight back, no sorrow to hide from her tormentor.
She had come full circle. She could see the injury, acknowledge the frightening gash
oozing blood out, and yet felt nothing. Death. It was not the end, it was
liberation. An unwholesome smile tainted her face as she walked out of the room
regal-like.

Kayne fell back on his mattress and watched her leave in disbelief.
Minutes turned to hours as Kayne remained immobile in his
bedroom,
looking out his glass wall pointlessly. He waited for her return. The waning moon in
the dark skies retreated under his very eyes, mourning Laura’s departure.

Ominous clouds claimed the sky. In the humid night, a lightning
flash illuminated Kayne’s room, while tropical-like rain ensued, big drops banging
violently against the glass. He felt release at the fury unleashed around him. For a
moment too quick to truly grasp, he lost himself in the sweet folly of Mother
Nature. It seemed to him, she held her arms out, cried the tears he’d never be able
to shed.

By the time thunder boomed in the electric sky, Kayne had already
banished the grief-stricken boy. His harsh facial features spoke of cool
self-control and unbreakable determination. He had made a promise, with this promise
alone had taken the life of Peter Spencer.
He would keep Laura safe
.

He rushed to the office, calling Lucas for assistance.

“Where is she?” Kayne’s voice was harsh. He remembered the last
time he tracked her. His heart beat at the thought of finding her hurt, or worse,
safe and sound, in the arms of another man.

“I don’t know… it’s weird.” Lucas seemed perplexed. “She’s… in the
middle of nowhere.”

Conflicting emotions strained his features, no other man… no safety
either. “
WHERE
is she?” he hissed.

Lucas shook his head, concerned himself. “She’s… in the woods.” In
the middle of a thunderstorm, it was the single worst place she could be, and he had
pushed her there. He ground his teeth with sheer wrath. He couldn’t let his mind run
away with the sinister scenarios already playing in the back of his head.

“Keep tracking, I’m going after her.”

Lucas nodded, his face grave as he watched his boss storm out into
the tempestuous night.

***

Laura had been walking pointlessly for hours. She
was dripping wet, her teeth chattering from cold. She had strayed off the beaten
path, had refused to meet the civilized world it led to. She was no longer part of
it. She was no longer part of anything. Once she had been a sister, it had defined
her identity, her very reason for being. That was taken from her. Then she became a
prisoner, had even willingly played her part. She had remolded her entire being to
survive her new cage, forsaken all for her jailor. Then the jailor gave her up.

She didn’t feel human anymore. She was a wounded animal,
instinctively returning to the wilderness. Crouching on the earth, with a dripping
hoodie over her head hiding half her face, she let her tears mix with the rain. She
hugged her knees and rocked herself, just as she had as a kid. As a young girl, her
worst fear had been to be locked in the cage like an animal. Alone, hurt, cold, and
scared, she realized there was worse: to be set free.