Beautiful No More

by MJ Nightingale

  When he went back down to his floor, his supervisor was there and he didn’t look happy. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Darryl. I hope you weren’t on another floor again.”

  He was quick to answer. “No sir, went to the bathroom. A bit distressed.” He patted his stomach to indicate his bowels. His boss, a man in his late twenties, was a pip squeak nerdy looking fellow.

  He gave Sal what he was sure was a disappointing look before looking away. “Well, I came to drop off the new cleaning supplies. They’re in your closet. Consider your bathroom break your lunch break then,” and with that he shook his head in disgust and went to the bank of elevators. He gave Darryl one last sneer before getting on.

  The little man annoyed Sal. A lot. He was tired of taking orders from him. Yes, maybe the secretary was his way to go, he thought. Maybe he could use her to lure the others out.

  He slipped out his pocket knife, and used a finger nail to remove the dried spot of blood on the blade he must have missed when he cleaned it a few days ago, and slit the top open. Picking up one of the canisters of furniture polish, he placed it on his cart and began to push it out into the passage. The hallways had mahogany railings that needed to gleam. Fingerprints to make disappear. Unfortunately, he needed this job. It paid the rent, and he needed a car and a gun, so he would take his shit of a boss’s abuse awhile longer. Yes, he thought, put money away, and live frugally; income was income. But maybe he would kill the fucking nit-wit too. He thought about the knife in his pocket. Yes, he could cut out his eyes, his disapproving eyes, just as easily as he’d done with some of the girls.

  Only Catarina had looked on him kindly, had not thought of him as a monster. She was different, special. Catarina. No one understood what it was like to be him, to be hated for something he had no control over. So lonely. That’s why he sought vengeance. To mask the pain.

  He polished the wood, and buffed the fingerprints on them until they gleamed, while humming softly his wordless tune, “Behind Blue Eyes” by the Who.

  Chapter 18

  Thanksgiving

  Thanksgiving saw a flurry of activity in the Marino household. His Aunt Mary had arrived early with two large turkeys already thawed, accompanied by her daughter-in-law, Monica, and her twin sons. Both were asleep in the play pen they had set up in Andreas’ study. After a light breakfast, all the women descended first upon the babies and then upon the kitchen chasing the men out as they began to whip of the traditional feast, each contributing their specialty to the meal. Ronnie was learning how to make lasagna from Lisa. Monica was helping with the stuffing of the birds, and Bella was whipping up pecan pies and pumpkin pies.

  The men had been sent to watch the kids, Johnny and the twins. Johnny hooked up his Xbox to the TV in the study and was playing mortal combat with Nikko. He had drawn the lines for a tournament in which they all had to play on a large sheet of construction paper.

  The men sat on the sofas, Blaze, Gio, Andreas, and their cousin Nick, Monica’s husband who was an army trainer.

  Cat was helping the women, and she had asked Andreas to go shopping with her the day before so she could whip up her own concoction, a spiced wine that she said was traditional in her country though she had never made it before. He had been more than happy to oblige her. She had agreed to stay, thankfully, even though her security system was installed.

  He wanted her to feel included in their family celebration especially after her breakdown out by the pool a few days ago when he’d told her about the news report.

  When he told her a story just aired exposing a lot of her past, and warning anyone who had dealings with her to be cautious, she had been at first enraged, and then sad. She had been sitting beside him on a sun lounger after he called her out of the pool. Wrapped in a towel, he had witnessed her outrage turn into defeat.

  “This is beyond ridiculous,” she blurted out and jumped off the seat. He got up too as she began to pace.

  “I know. I am just as shocked as you.” The look he gave her conveyed his sympathy.

  She stopped suddenly, and turned to look at him. “You knew?” she questioned, uncertainty and doubt in her eyes. “About my past?”

  He didn’t want to lie to her. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry. I know you told me not to pry into your past, but Romeo has been after my family for a long time. I had to be sure. But, it doesn’t matter to me. I knew you couldn’t be involved even before that.”

  She frowned, expressing her displeasure. “But you never revealed to me you knew.”

  He came closer, and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand along her arm. He stroked it lightly. “Because it doesn’t matter to me. Your past. You were right, though, it was your story to tell.”

  His hand on her arm had caused tiny pin pricks of pleasure. She focused on that hand, but remained silent for a moment. “Answer me this. Not that it matters because the whole world knows now about street urchin turned prostitute, but did you tell your brothers? Before the story?”

  He continued to stroke her arm. “No, I didn’t. And if I had, and told them I believed you, and cared for you, they would still have my back. That’s what family does.”

  He heard her sigh. “I wouldn’t know,” she turned from him, her back facing him.

  He approached her from behind, placed his hands on her shoulders, and slowly turned her back towards him. He wanted her to see the sincerity in his eyes when he spoke his next words. She looked up to see his face, and he saw tears brimming in her wavering grey eyes. “Cat, I am sorry I violated your trust. I promise to never do that again. I swear. And, for all it’s worth, I know I am not family, but I am here for you now. I will see this through to the end, and do whatever it takes to prove your innocence, and keep you safe.”

  One lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she used the back of her hand to wipe it away. But she gave him a small smile. It was encouraging.

  He lifted his hands to cup her face and using the pad of one thumb, he traced the trail the tear had made. “I promise,” he repeated.

  “To be by my side?” she asked.

  “Yes, if you will let me.” His words were sincere.

  “I have no one else,” she whispered, the words came out chokingly as she tried to keep the emotion at bay.

  “You have me,” he whispered and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “Andreas?” She looked up and once again pierced his blue eyes with her grey ones. “If I were alone hearing this I would not be crying. I want you to know that. I am strong. I always have been like Stone.”

  “I know,” he encouraged. “You are one of the strongest women I know.”

  “I cry because I didn’t want you to know about my past because I did not want to see pity in your eyes.”

  “Do you see pity in my eyes, Catarina?”

  “Please, just call me Cat. It is my name, after all. Katarina was my great grandmother.”

  “Cat, do you see pity?” he asked once more searching her soul.

  She shook her head negligibly. Her face still in his grasp. “No.”

  “What do you see, Cat?”

  “I’m . . . not . . . sure,” she stammered. She had never seen a man look at her this way before. With lust, anger, disgust, curiosity, but never the look this man’s brilliant eyes portrayed.

  “Can, I show you what you see?”

  She gestured a yes, afraid of what might come next, but her blood began to warm, her body to hum as his gaze left hers. He wet his lips, and then a second before he pressed them to hers, he was looking into her eyes—just a breath away.

  Lost in the moment, she could only focus on the touch of his lips as they met hers, very gentle and then more firmly as he encouraged her to open. He licked at the seam of her mouth, and she gasped at the intensity of the feeling that little action evoked in her. He sought entrance and she melted into his arms, but they were there to support her. Her tongue met his, tentatively at first, and the sensations of being held, being genuinely wanted, warmed her heart.
>
  Her body was pressed tightly against his, and the sensation of just a single kiss began to spread and reach to her nipples, her belly, and finally her core. He held her close, and she could feel the heat of the man pressed up against her through her bathing suit. The towel had slipped and pooled at her feet. When he pulled back, and ended the kiss, she almost cried out in regret.

  “What you see, and what you felt, Cat,” he whispered into her ear, and kissed the side of her face, “is longing, and yearning, because I think I have found what has been missing in my life.”

  Cat almost cried at the beautiful words coming from his mouth. No one had ever said anything so nice to her before in her entire life. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. In that instant, she knew what it was like to have a heart, and feel cherished. And what it was like to love. She had never experienced that before.

  But still unsure of what she should trust, she parted. Looking deeply into his eyes, she expressed herself as best she could. “Andreas. That was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.” He kept looking at her, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He waited for her to continue knowing instinctually she was not done, or ready for more right now. “I think I will go lie down. I need to think about this, us. Do you understand?”

  “I do, Cat. Please let me walk you upstairs though, and see you to your room. Take all the time you need.”

  * * *

  The days passed quickly and he spent much of his free time with her. She was getting used to the large family, and they were enjoying her company as well. He worked more at night after she had gone to bed, but was still making no headway with tracking down this killer and the identity he was now using.

  The police had come once more to question her, and they were no longer sharing any information other than the fact that the fingerprints found in her apartment matched Romeo’s. He was working it alone now.

  But they agreed to put work behind them for the day, and just enjoy a family holiday. Cat looked forward to it a great deal. It had been a long time since she had celebrated one. And that had been when she was a child.

  Around eleven in the morning, with the other women still in the kitchen she popped her head into the study. The men greeted her warmly. “I need to steal Andreas for just a minute,” she interrupted. “I need him to taste my treat.”

  After a brief pregnant pause, the men all burst into laughter and Cat was startled by the large guffaws that permeated the room. When Gio made lascivious actions with his tongue, she did something else she had not done in some time. She blushed, and that angered her. “My wine, you buffoon,” she added petulantly then stomped out of the room with Andreas after her. He worked hard to suppress his own laughter, glaring at Gio who was crying from laughing so hard.

  He caught up to her as she was about to pass the dining room. “Cat, come in here. My brother can be a pig. I’m sorry. He meant no harm.”

  “A great big pig,” she pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I was embarrassed.”

  He rolled his lips over his teeth trying not to laugh. “I’ll make him apologize,” he stated stiffly.

  “You think it is funny too?” she asked, her anger turning on him.

  He took her arms, and brought her closer. “It’s our American humor. Inappropriate at times. More so when we are just with family. But, take it as a compliment that he felt comfortable enough to tease you.”

  “I don’t know,” she contemplated, but looked up at Andreas whose eyes were twinkling at her. She had the urge to feel his gruff. She wanted to feel it again on her cheeks.

  “I suppose,” she murmured.

  “Very good, Cat.” His hands on her arms now began to stroke them. His mirth was beginning to turn into something more.

  She felt the goosebumps, and could not help let a low moan escape from her lips. She stepped closer, almost touching her breasts to his broad chest. Her body’s instinct to make contact with him was overpowering her. His hands made her feel alive. She swayed towards him and they were touching. He groaned primitively.

  “You like that?” he asked, purring the words seductively, his face buried in her hair breathed in its scent.

  “I do. It feels . . . . Nice,” she murmured feeling limp.

  “Nice?” he asked beginning to change the pattern by making swirls along her arms.

  “Mhmm, yes, and I have been thinking I would like you to kiss me gain, like you did by the pool. I want to know if it will feel the same.”

  Andreas laughed sexily, and pulled back just a hair so he could see her face. “I would love to do that.”

  Her body was already on fire. Ignited by his words, his every touch. She felt her nipples pucker even before his lips were on her.

  “Do you want me to kiss you now, Cat?’

  “Yes. Please!” she whined as the muscles between her legs clamped tightly and she felt warmth pool inside her pussy. She had to squeeze her legs together.

  Leaning against the buffet, he positioned her between his long legs, and held her tightly.

  Again, she felt more connected to this man than ever. That was her last thought. As soon as his lips touched hers, all she could do was feel. Divine. Limp. Excited. She wanted more.

  When it was over and he pulled back, his smile told her wanted more. Needed it. But his single word, confused her.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Her mind had lost its ability to form a coherent thought. She lay her head against his strong chest as he stoked her back which only kept her dizzy. “Well what?” she replied.

  “Did it feel as good as last time, Cat?” he asked, chuckling and she could feel the rumble vibrate in his chest.

  “Better,” was her answer.

  It was for him too. Each time he touched her, kissed her, held her, he wanted more. They held on to one another for a moment longer, until the sounds of Johnny running out of the study made them part. They could hear his voice in the hallway calling out, “Uncle Andy, it’s your turn. I just slaughtered Uncle Nikko, and now it’s your turn to face defeat.”

  Cat shook her head and laughed at the intrusion.

  “I better go.” He indicted the direction his nephew’s voice was going.

  “Oh, but my wine,” she stopped him with a hand on his arm. She could feel the muscles jump beneath the skin at her touch. It made her feel suddenly powerful.

  “The wine tasted fine, Cat. Delicious.”

  She focused on his face, tearing her eyes away from his arms. “What?”

  “I tasted it on you,” he teased and winked and added mischievously, “It was a treat.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and went off to find his nephew.

  With her hand to her mouth, she suddenly realized what he had meant. She had tasted the wine to see if it was sweet enough, and he tasted it when they kissed. Feeling warm, she made her way back to the kitchen.

  * * *

  The day had been perfect. Perfect. Thanksgiving was always one of his favorite holidays because it always brought his family together. His home had been fuller than it had been in a long time. All of his brother’s had married in the past year, and their wives brought laughter into their lives. And love. Love, he thought, as he twirled the stem of his wine glass, watching Cat who had been given a seat next to his Aunt Mary.

  She was sitting at the opposite end of the table. He watched her talk to his aunt, and several times, saw her touch the older woman’s hand, laughing while they talked. His Aunt had been born in the old county. She had come to America as a young girl after World War II. From the snippets of conversation he could hear across the expanse, they were sharing stories of life in Europe versus America. She would occasionally glance his way, and when she did, their eyes locked, and she would blush and turn away.

  There was something happening between the two of them. They both knew it. It was more than simple attraction. Andreas was just surprised he wasn’t running away scared, and that he didn’t want to run. But he knew he st
ill needed to take his time with her.

  * * *

  When Aunt Mary and Nick, Monica and the babies left, the other Marinos dispersed to their respective rooms leaving Cat and Andreas alone in the study. Cat, full from trying all the specialties made, yawned but patted her belly appreciatively. She was reclining on one of the sofas, and looked quite comfortable.

  Hating to disturb her, he asked her if she would like a drink, and she shook her head in the negative before replying. “No, thank you. I have never eaten so much in my life. I don’t think there is room in there,” she laughed still patting her stomach.

  “Even as a child,” he asked, “You never gorged like that?”

  “No, on holidays, we paced ourselves a bit more than that. But, no.”

  He joined her on the sofa, pulling her legs onto his lap and was pleased when she didn’t resist. “Well, I’m glad you experienced this tradition with me.” He patted her legs, and when she still didn’t pull away, he tentatively stroked one leg from the knee cap down.

  “When I . . . was a captive, sometimes even a small meal was difficult to come by. The men who held us were always afraid of us getting fat.” She hadn’t known where that had come from as she rarely thought about that time.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He could only sympathize, he could never understand, so he said no more. He would allow her to reveal what she wanted to in her own time.

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “It made me who I am. I quite like the life I have made, and even if others do not understand it, I have helped the girls who worked for me. It pains me deeply that three of them have lost their lives to this madman.”

  “I know it does. I can relate to that. I feel guilt too, Cat. If I would have caught him all those years ago then they would still be here, and others.”

  “Is that what makes you so stern at times, Andreas?” she asked as he continued to stroke her legs. It felt quite divine and she did not want him to stop.

  “Yes, and no,” he answered vaguely.

  “I notice, like me, you don’t like to show your feelings,” she added when he looked up.