A Bedtime Story (8 page)

L
aura was cuddled on the couch in her reading room with
The Kite
Runner
open pointlessly on her lap. She was having trouble getting into it,
catching herself reading the same lines over and over again. She had an uneasy
feeling she couldn’t shake. She kept replaying the scene from the previous night.
Kayne had seemed weird, troubled. Closing her eyes, she thought back to his embrace,
his reassuring caresses, his gentle voice… how safe they made her feel. She shook
her head and forced her eyes open. When Olga tapped at her door, it was around five.
She was surprised at the random visit but welcomed the interruption.

“Sorry to disturb you, Miss Spencer, Master Kayne wanted me to
inform you to meet him at seven in the living room… He said to dress formally… and
to fix your hair and makeup,” she finished, slightly uncomfortable giving such
instructions. With a warm smile, she added, “I can help you if you like.”

“So, no supper tonight?”

“I’m not sure what Master Kayne planned for supper. He didn’t ask
me to prepare anything.”

“Okay, thank you, Olga.”

“Well, please let me know if I can be of assistance,” she offered
again before leaving.

Laura was unsure what to make of this, wondered what he had in
store for her. She headed back to her room and decided to take a long bath. She
unconsciously began to shave herself, stopping at the realization, wondering why she
was even doing it. It was such a meaningless action and yet so full of implication.
To shave or not to shave
, THAT was the question, to every girl anyway.
She shaved her legs and armpits. Those were innocent enough, considering the request
for formal wear. When she finished, she lingered, the blade resting below her belly
button. The question
begged to be asked, did she somehow hope he
would see her,
there
…? Her inner voice responded with an emphatic
NO
,
she had become completely delirious. She immediately got up and stepped out of the
bathtub. However, on her way out of the bathroom, she couldn’t help sneaking a quick
peek in the mirror. The regrowth was still minor, she was shamefully glad to notice.
She opted for a seamless pink bikini and matching cotton push-up bra. She rummaged
through the walk-in closet indecisively. Although she didn’t want to look like she
tried too hard, she couldn’t look like she hadn’t tried enough. She settled on a
pair of skinny black pants, a beige silk camisole, and a matching fitted jacket. She
found some black stilettos at the bottom of the closet and threw them on. She was no
fashion expert by any means and looked at herself in the mirror, unsure. She thought
she looked nice enough and turned her attention to the vanity. She straightened her
hair and stuck to earthy tones for eye shadow, opting for a natural look. At six
thirty she was ready, half an hour too early. She paced around in her room,
constantly looking at the clock, half apprehensive, half excited. Maybe he was
taking her out? Why else would he ask her to do all this? But then again, he didn’t
even let her out in the gated front yard. She highly doubted he was taking her to a
five-star restaurant. She kept speculating, unable to come up with any logical
explanation.

A few minutes before the clock struck seven, Laura took a big
breath as she left her room. She realized she was anxious to see his reaction. He
had never seen her dressed up… since that first night, she reminded herself, when he
took her.

Kayne was sitting on the couch, dressed in a formal black suit, his
hair slicked back, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was staring at an invisible
spot on the wall, consumed with thought, and didn’t notice her come in. There was a
large box on the table, gift wrapped with a ribbon, the kind that fancy stores used.
She stood in the corner and cleared her throat to get his attention. Only his eyes
moved toward her. His brows lifted upon seeing her, and he leaned his head slightly
back as if he was surprised with what he
saw. He then nodded slowly a
few times in approval. She blushed but smiled at him, happy with his reaction.

“Come closer.”

She took a few hesitant steps and stopped at the corner of the
couch, just a few inches within his reach. He pushed the box toward her.

“It’s for you,” he said, his eyes penetrating, his expression
somber. This had nothing to do with when he offered her the book. She had never seen
him like this.

“Thank you…”

His strange mood disquieted her. She reached for the box
uncertainly, opening it nervously, almost expecting a bomb to explode. It contained
a gorgeous backless dark purple silk gown. It was her turn to lift her brows. She
pulled the dress from the box, the rich material gently flowing down to her
feet.

“Wow… it’s beautiful! I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything this
beautiful, like
anything,
not just clothes…” She smiled warmly at him,
realizing she was trying to make him smile too. He nodded again, offering her a
smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Try it on.”

She didn’t understand why he was acting the way he was, but kept
smiling at him nonetheless. She turned to leave the room, holding the dress in her
hand, when his voice stopped her.

“Where are you going?”

She turned back around, her brows furrowed. “You said to try it
on…”

“I did.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

“I don’t understand…” she muttered, her eyes scouring the room in
discomfort.

“Of course you do. Take off your clothes, Laura.” His tone was
callous; his eyes were fixed on her, a wolfish expression etched on his face.

She was shocked but remained in place, heart
pounding, her breathing growing faster and louder.

“
Sir
…?”

“Sir me all you like, you will still do as I say.”

Her eyes watered, and she nervously played with the dress in her
hands. “Please, sir, please don’t do this…” She berated herself for being so naïve.
Of course he would rape her; she just wondered why he hadn’t done it sooner. Why the
whole charade? Then she thought back to her hesitation in the tub earlier. Oh how
she wanted to slap that stupid girl senseless.

“Do what, Laura?” He leaned forward, his eyes fixed onto hers.

She remembered that first night, how he had earned her trust and
betrayed it right after, how remorselessly he owned up to it, staring her in the eye
unblinking as Maxwell shackled and hurt her. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Please… don’t rape me…” She barely managed to finish the sentence,
her voice thick with emotion.

He sneered at her, his eyes predatory. “You think I’m going to fuck
you? Don’t worry. I won’t fuck you, Laura… Not until you ask…” he added with a
seductive smile.

She felt relief at the reassurance and disbelief replaying his
words. Did he just say
Until? Until!
Did he really think she would ask him
to? She was hot with white rage. She opened her mouth and upon a second glance in
his direction closed it right back.

“Laura. Take off your clothes,” he reiterated, losing patience.

She gulped, lowering her eyes. She looked for a place to set the
dress, opting for the La-Z-Boy, trying to delay the inevitable. He took another sip
from his drink, lighting a cigarette. She looked around again, hoping for any excuse
to delay, and caught his intimidating stare. Dejected, she first removed her shoes,
then her jacket, fumbling nervously with the sleeves, then reached to place it next
to the dress.

“Leave it.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice and let it
immediately drop to the floor. She hesitated between removing the top or the pants
first, her hands moving from one piece to the other undecidedly. She looked toward
him for instruction, unable to think, to make the call herself.

“Your shirt,” he directed her, his eyes burning into her.

She was almost thankful to have the burden of decision removed. She
slid off her camisole, then lingered for a few moments, playing with the band of her
pants, unable to take the next step.

“Take off your pants, Laura.” He understood. He understood her, her
brain process. She would await his explicit instruction before removing each
clothing item. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to take any initiative, participating on
her own. Her submissiveness, however, had her abiding hastily to his every command,
albeit with clumsy jerky moves.

“Good girl.”

She instantly blushed at his words, feeling her muscles down there
contract in spite of herself. He smiled wickedly at her, all too aware of her
conflicting emotions. He put out his cigarette, looking back at her.

“And now take off your bra.”

Her eyes darted up to meet his, silently pleading. He only nodded
his head to convey his order. Her eyes watered again. She obeyed, then tried to
cover herself with her arms. He rolled his eyes.

“Put your arms down, Laura.”

She did, slowly, fidgeting with her hands as if not knowing what to
do with them. He shamelessly leered at her naked body, minus the panties he let her
keep on. She squirmed under his smoldering stare. He enjoyed a few more sips of his
whiskey, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, sadistically savoring every moment, her
discomfort only adding to his thrill. She was truly a thing of beauty. She was
looking up at the ceiling, blinking tears away. “Don’t, Laura, you’ll only ruin your
makeup. Why do you want to cry?” he added with slight irritation.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not from what I see,” he answered, sneering at her, his eyes
fixated with the moist spot on her panties.

She followed his gaze, then instinctively covered the spot with her
hands, her eyes wide with terror. A chuckle escaped his lips. He finished his drink
and languidly walked up to her, grabbing the dress on his way. He stood in front of
her, without touching, just close enough so she could feel his warmth. He raised her
chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Are you upset with me?”

“
Yes
,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Hmm… You’ll have to get over it. Get dressed. Lucas will be here
any moment now.”

She roughly reached to grab the dress from his hands, but he held
it back.

“Easy now…”

She recoiled at the implied threat, all bravado leaving her. How he
loved toying with her, so easily riled up, as easily calmed down. He let go of the
dress and watched her as she slid it over her shoulders.

“Sit.”

She immediately obeyed. He grabbed her stilettos and knelt in front
of her. And for the first time that night, he offered her a charming, kind smile,
though remnants of mischief still lingered in his eyes. He gently took her leg in
his hand, his warm skin radiating against hers, and put the shoe on her foot, then
proceeded with the other. He was all business again by the time he got up, staring
down at her as she sat in the La-Z-Boy.

“We’re going out tonight. Lucas will drive us. I don’t believe I’ve
introduced you… I expect you won’t try anything stupid.”

“May I ask where we’re going?”

For barely a flash, she could see apprehension in
his eyes, but in an instant it was gone, and they were back to their normal
impassiveness.

“You’ll see.”

His cellphone rang. Lucas was outside waiting for them. Kayne
offered his arm to Laura, which she accepted reluctantly. As they were about to
leave the house, he leaned in her ear and whispered, “You looked beautiful.”

She turned bright red at the insinuation…
looked
… not look…
She understood him. He chuckled quietly to himself as he walked them to meet Lucas.
He had mentioned him on the first day. He was the head of security if she remembered
correctly.

Lucas Belfort was a handsome, mild-mannered man of biracial
background. He was tall with a strong build, his green eyes standing out against his
dark skin, his hair shaven in a military cut. He carried himself with dignity, his
laughing eyes sparkling with intelligence. His deceivingly boyish good looks were
reinforced with his deadliest weapon, his smile. It was a smile designed to instill
trust and penetrate all the defensive walls erected by its recipient.

Kayne had met Lucas in elementary school. He had first noticed him
in his ragged clothes, standing up to the school bully, twice his size, and
accompanied by his two faithful trolls. Lucas had stared him straight in the eyes,
unflinching, and threw the first punch. He got beaten to a pulp. A week later, his
face still bruised, Kayne had seen the shame in Lucas’s eyes as he faced the
cafeteria lady, counting the spare change in the palm of his hand. He seemed more
defeated standing in front of her than he had been lying on the ground, getting
kicked around. Without a word, Kayne crept to his side and under the counter
covertly slipped him the twenty-dollar bill his father had given him that very
morning.

An alliance was formed then, one that strengthened over the years,
deepened over shared experiences, and solidified over crimes perpetrated together.
Lucas had spent his days at the Malkin
residence since adolescence.
His mother never asked questions. His father, he’d never met. When he was sixteen,
he moved in permanently in the employees’ quarters in the western wing. When he
turned eighteen, Lev Malkin paid for his university tuition in criminology. Kayne
studied business administration. They were twenty when Lev had finally lost his
battle to cancer. After his death, Kayne stepped up and became the master of the
house, following in his father’s footsteps. Lucas began addressing him as
sir
, took over the security, and rallied all those remaining loyal to the
Malkins, ensuring his only friend’s ascent and control in the Organization.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Evening, Lucas, I don’t believe you met Laura.”

“Ah, Miss Spencer, no. What a pleasure.” He respectfully bowed his
head to her then turned back to Kayne. “We should get going.” They embarked into the
Audi, both sitting in the back with Lucas at the wheel. Laura remembered the first
time she got in that car, how it changed her life. During the ride, Kayne seemed
preoccupied, withdrawn. Her nervousness rose as the car sped away. Why was he acting
so weird? Where was he taking her? It couldn’t be anything good if it had even him
upset.