Authors: Karpov Kinrade
THE WEEK AFTER
Christmas, Mother Nature got angry and took out her rage on most of the country, excluding California—which is where I desperately wished I was. Blizzards, crazy snow that made us prisoners in our own homes, power outages and dangerous roads prevented travel, and by New Year's Eve we all had cabin fever. Bridgette and I were bickering more than we ever had, and I spent more and more time alone in my room, wishing that Ash would at least call Cat if not Catelyn. I missed him and worried about him in equal measure.
The Beaumont
s were forced to cancel their New Year's Eve party, which turned out to be the only highlight about the storms. I couldn't handle another forced social engagement, not after what happened last time. I was honestly shocked they'd even consider a party so soon after their daughter had been attacked, but Bridgette assured me this was normal for them. "To my parents, parties are as much business building and networking as social, maybe more so. I would have been surprised had they not planned to invite everyone who's anyone over for New Year's."
I planned to work that night. Lots of lonely people on holidays and I could make holiday pay. I had a few regulars, including my stocking and nylon fetish guy. I'd learned more about this subject from him than I'd ever needed or wanted to know, but he seemed harmless, if quirky, and I didn't hate his calls. The guy who wanted to suck on my breasts while I nursed him as he wore a diaper
—he gave me the creeps. I finally hung up on him when he wanted me to change his diaper and let him lick the diaper clean. That was just… no. I'd found another line I wouldn't cross.
Just as I was about to clock out for the night, I got one more call. Ash sounded drunk, with his words a little slurred, his speaking slower. And he sounded so sad. "Hi, Cat. Sorry I haven't called in a while."
"Ash, I've been worried about you."
"To be honest, I'm worried about m
e,
too."
I waited for him to continue, not sure what to say or ask, but the silence just hung between us, choking the words out of us.
"The man I hurt?"
"Yes
…?
"
"He died. I killed him. I took another life, and it's a guilt I can't live with again. The weight is too much for me."
I had no idea how to respond to him. I couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have taken someone's life. "Have you talked to someone about this?"
"I'm talking to you."
"Oh, Ash. I don't know what to say to help you." I gnawed at my bottom lip, wishing I had more wisdom or experience. Or better words that could make a difference to him. But I had nothing, only a deep and abiding sadness at his pain.
"I want to meet you, Cat. In person. No pressure, no expectations, but I want to sit in front of you and see your eyes and know you for real."
My heart stopped.
When it started beating again, it beat too fast. My pulse raised and my mouth went dry. I didn't know what to say.
"Cat, are you there? I'm sorry if I've scared you. I'm sure it's against the rules, but I promise I won't hurt you. We can meet somewhere public. Somewhere you feel safe. I just need a friend right now."
He sounded so vulnerable, and I almost got angry at him. He had a friend. He had me. Me as Catelyn. Why couldn't he accept my friendship? Why did he need my phone sex persona more than the real me?
"Is there no one else? No one who cares for you?" Like me. The real me. The one who is desperate to kiss you again.
"There could have been someone, but I ruined it with her."
Hope planted itself in my heart again. "Why not reach out to her? I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you."
"It's complicated. She's on a path that I don't want to mess with. I don't want to mess up her life with my issues. She's got her own shit to deal with."
I tapped my foot on the ground, so tempted to confess everything, but so scared at the same time. "But you don't mind bringing me into your mess?"
"You two are very different," he said.
"I feel so comfortable talking to you."
"How are we different?" I asked.
"I don't scare you," he said. "I scare her. I don't want to scare the woman I'm with."
I had nothing to say to that. He had scared Catelyn. But Cat accepted him with all his dark corners.
"I might be a huge disappointment to you in person."
He exhaled his cigar. "I can't imagine that would be possible."
"What about this other girl? Wouldn't she be jealous?"
"She'll find someone better than me."
"I need to think about it, Ash. This is big."
"Sure, of course. Um, Cat?"
"Yes?"
"I need you tonight. If not in person, then this way. Like last time. Make me forget about everything except you."
An ache spread through me as I remembered the way his hands caressed my body, how his mouth tasted, how his tongue felt brushing against my lower lip. "Do you have anything specific in mind?"
"Have you ever been to Greece?" he asked.
"No. I wish."
"There's a hotel there that would take your breath away. It's in Santorini, an island about a
forty-minute flight from Athens. I want to be there with you tonight. We'll settle into the honeymoon suite with its king-sized four-poster bed draped in white gauze. The walls are made of stone and marble, white and gold with hints of blue that match the Aegean Sea visible from our private balcony. First, we'll soak in our private hot tub."
He paused, and I took over. "I'm wearing a deep blue sundress. It matches the hue of the sea, with swirls of white at the hem, like swirling water. As you sit on the edge of the bed watching me, I slip off the dress, baring one shoulder at a time, then turning around and stepping out of it, hiding my breasts from you for just a moment."
"But I'm not a patient man," he said, "and I want to see all of you. So I reach for you, running my hands over your hips and to your stomach, pressing my chest against your back, my hands glide up your body, cupping your breasts as I lean down to drop kisses on your shoulder and neck."
"I guide one of your hands lower," I said. "Past my belly, down to my center. With your fingers, you spread me and slip one into me, rubbing at my clit as I rub against your hard cock through your pants. A breeze from the sea sends the white gauze fluttering through our room, a soft light from the setting sun turning the room golden, magical, as your fingers go deeper into me."
"But I need more than this," he said. "I need to feel your skin against mine. So I tug off my shirt and pants, and pull you into the steaming bath with me. I rub a bar of lavender soap over your body, letting my hands slide over your curves, memorizing every inch of your body."
"And I turn to face you," I said, "straddling you in the water, pressing my body against yours, your cock rubbing against my clit as we kiss dee
ply. I can taste the smoky mintiness of your mouth as you tangle your hands in my hair."
"I can't wait any longer. Holding your hips, I shove myself into you, feeling your pussy tighten around my cock, so hot and wet."
I moaned, a real moan as I rubbed at myself, my orgasm cresting inside of me. "I need you deeper. Harder. Faster. I ride you as you suck on my nipples, my nails leaving red lines on your back and shoulders, your cock so deep, so thick and hard."
"I continue rubbing your clit as you ride me." His breathing was labored as he brought himself closer to his own climax. "Stimulating you in both ways, and when you come, you take me with you, your pussy clenching me, squeezing me until I explode inside of you. I watch your face as pleasure takes you over, as you cling to me while your body clenches and releases in waves of ecstasy."
As I came with him, everything disappeared and it was me, the real me, and Ash, in that hotel in Greece, with all of our troubles worlds away. "No one can reach us here," I told him. "We have each other and nothing else matters. Afterwards, we hold each other on a couch on the balcony, watching the waves crash to the shore as the sun sets, sharing champagne and strawberry kisses as the magic of Greece sings us a love song with wind and water."
I'D UNDERESTIMATED HOW
much the Beaumonts had given to replace my destroyed apartment, which meant on moving day Bridgette's car wasn't big enough to pack up all of our belongings. We were forced to strap a few bags to the top and pray it didn't rain or snow during the drive back to the dorms.
Somehow, Bridgette
had arranged for her roommate to transfer and had talked her dad into covering the cost of the dorm for the both of us for the semester. Tears filled my eyes as I went to say goodbye to her parents. "Thank you so much for everything."
Mrs. Beaumont hugged me. "My dear, you saved our daughter's life. You're like family to us. Never hesitate to ask for help if you need it."
Mr. Beaumont was more reticent, but gave me a pat on the shoulder and hugged Bridgette stiffly. "Watch out for each other, girls. And drive safe. Call us when you get back to school."
Harvard bustled with students coming back from holiday.
Freshly fallen snow now looked trampled and dirty as everyone dragged their bags to the dorms and confirmed schedules and parties while mingling with their friends.
Bridgette didn't tell any of her friends about the attack. When they asked about the still-healing bruises on her face, she said she'd gotten thrown from her horse when it got spooked while riding in the snow. That story garnered sympathetic coos and made her the center of attention as we made multiple trips to bring our boxes and bags up.
"Hey, Catelyn!"
I turned to find Jon striding over, a smile lighting up his face.
"Hi, Jon. Welcome back to school."
"You too. Can I help you ladies carry something?"
Bridgette nodded and handed him the largest box. "Thanks."
With Jon's help, this was our last trip up. At our door, he stood awkwardly, as if waiting for me to say or do something, but I wasn't sure what. Finally he tilted his head and smiled again. "Um, would you like to grab some coffee sometime? Now that we're back."
"Sure," I said. "I'd like that."
He left with an even bigger smile, and I had butterflies in my stomach, but I couldn't tell if they were from nerves, excitement, or something else.
Bridgette raised an eyebrow as she sat on her neatly made bed, the dark blue quilt wrinkling under her. "Moving on to brother number two after brother number one rejected you?"
"No, and I'm never telling you anything ever again," I said, surveying my side of the room.
It was barren, with a twin bed that had seen better days. I unpacked my bedding first, making the bed up and stacking my books on the small bookshelf above my desk.
"Oh relax. I think it's good. Ash needs some competition so he realizes what he's losing in you. I wonder if somewhere in his mind he's connected you and Cat and that's why he's reaching out to her?"
I shook my head sadly. "I don't think so. He made a point of saying that we were very different. I think he likes her more."
"You do realize you
are
her, right? Whoever he likes, it's still you."
"Not really," I said, pulling out my clothes and hanging them in the narrow closet. "She's a role I'm playing, not the real me."
"Maybe with other clients, but not him."
"It's just confusing. I wonder if this is how Clark Kent felt
when Lois Lane liked Superman more than him."
"Then just tell him the truth. Meet him like he wants, and tell him everything. Then he'll love all of you and you two can live happily ever after."
"Or he'll hate me and I'll never hear from him again, as Cat
or
Catelyn."
It didn't take long to unpack and realize how little room these dorms offered. By the end I was glad I didn't have more
crap to unpack. On an impulse, while Bridgette had dragged me to the mall over the weekend, I'd picked up a poster of my own, and when everything was put away, I unrolled it and pinned it on the wall over my bed.
Bridgette looked up from her book, her long legs draped over her bed. "What's that?"
"Something to brighten my side."
She put the book down and walked over. "Is that Greece?"
"Yeah. I thought it was pretty."
She crossed her arms, staring at the expanse of brilliant blue sea with tall cliffs jutting over the water, houses built into the sides of the cliffs with winding roads that looked exciting and dangerous. "It's beautiful. I didn't know you were interested in Greece."
"I had a dream about it recently. It made me want to visit someday." With Ash.
***
A few hours later I left Bridgette to her book and went to Harvard Square for some coffee. Lucky had his kiosk up and ready to go and prepared a steaming hot coffee just the way I liked it when he saw me. "Here you go, Catelyn. Extra sugar and cream."
"Thanks, Lucky." I gave him cash and told him to keep the change.
"It's cold out today," he said. "What are you out here for?"
"I have an appointment with one of my professors. I'm hoping he has good news about some scholarships."
"Hey, that's great. Good luck." He shoved his hands in his pants and smiled a smile that always looked a little bit off center, like he wasn't used to making that expression.
My phone buzzed as I sipped the scalding drink, and when I saw the text I dropped my coffee, stepping away
fast enough to avoid scalding myself.
Lucky ran around his stall and put a rough hand on my shoulder. "What happened? Are you okay?"
I read the words again.
It's good to see you again, Catelyn. Are you enjoying your coffee? Now that you're back at school, we can have some fun. I heard Bradley died an untimely death. Seems people close to you tend to drop dead. If I were you I'd be worried about the friends you have left.
It wasn't signed, but I knew it was him. I looked around frantically, spinning in a circle to see if anyone looked suspicions. Too many students fill
ed the area, and they all seemed completely normal. Some were texting, but none were paying attention to me.
"Lucky, did you see anyone following me when I came over here? Anyone at all who might have noticed me, or
appeared out of place?"
He shook his head. "I didn't see no one. Sorry. Let me make you another coffee. It's on me."
He had it ready in moments and I held it close, for warmth and to ward off the unease I felt now. "Thanks, Lucky. Let me know if you do see anyone strange, okay?"
"Sure thing."
I arrived at Professor Cavin's office still shaking, but he wasn't there yet. His office had been left open, so I let myself in and perused his bookshelf, skimming my fingers over the books, many of which I had read or recognized, until I came to a familiar title and froze. Pulling it from the shelf, I flipped it open and stared at my mother's signature on the cover page. Made out "in deep affection" to "George". Professor Cavin walked in, and we stared at each other for a long moment, until I held the book up accusingly. "You never told me you knew my mother."
He sighed, and sat behind his desk. "It was a long time ago, Catelyn. Another life. She was my student once, beautiful and bright, just like you. It was before she met your father."
I sank into the chair still clutching the book. "You had an affair. With my mother?"
"We were… intimate… once. Only once. We both knew it wasn't right and it never happened again. But we always respected each other. I didn't see her much after she met your father, but when she published this book she sent me a copy. I'd helped her get the sources she needed to write it. In fact, she was
working on the sequel when she… died." He choked on the last word and I could see he still cared about her.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"I should have, but I didn't want it interfering with our relationship. I didn't want you to think differently of me, or her. I'd hoped to leave the past in the past, but I should know by know that secrets never stay buried."
I had to leave, had to get out of there and think. I handed him the book but he shook his head. "Keep it. She'd want you to have it."
I didn't know how I felt about that, but since I no longer had my copy, I didn't argue. Maybe this book held a clue to her murder.