by Brenna Lyons
“Would you like something to drink?” she offered, considering something alcoholic for herself for the first time in a long time.
Keith shook his head slowly, and Katheryn folded herself into her father’s chair, curling her arms around her knees. For some reason, the chair didn’t give her as much comfort as it usually did.
“Please, say something, Keith. You’re starting to scare me.” Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.
A flash of something dangerous lit his eyes, and she shrank further into the chair.
“You bought him the tigers,” he commented in a cool, detached voice—a clinical voice.
“Some of them,” she admitted. “The Amur was his first.”
“Ty?” he spat. “You bought him Ty.”
She cringed at the accusation in his voice.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
“I didn’t name the damn thing, Keith. Besides that, I told you the tigers aren’t the problem. If it wasn’t the tigers—”
“Tiberius is the problem,” he shot back before she could say his name. “Is he? Is he the problem?”
“What do you mean? Of course, he is.”
Keith rifled through some papers in his hand and stalked the room toward her. He sat on the hope chest she used as a coffee table and handed her a picture. “Remember this?” he asked.
Katheryn scrunched her nose at the sight of it. “I always hated this thing, but Uncle Michael liked it.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What’s to tell? It was taken after my father died. It was taken in Uncle Michael’s back yard. Sherry and I are probably doing homework.”
“Who took it?” he prodded.
“Mama Toni?” she guessed without conviction.
“You don’t sound so sure,” he noted.
“Uncle Michael usually took the pictures, but he’s back by the trees, so Mama Toni must have taken this one,” she answered logically.
A muscle tightened in his jaw, and his eyes narrowed. Katheryn handed the picture back quickly.
“You were angry then. Your father had just died. He was your security object.”
“Is that unusual? We were always close after—” She looked away.
“Still can’t talk about it?”
“Of course, I can,” Katheryn snapped, though her stomach was rebelling and her whole body quaking lightly at the thought. “I asked if that was unusual.”
“This whole damn thing is unusual.”
Katheryn swallowed a sob. “I told you it would be,” she commented miserably.
“Do you remember what you were reading in the picture?”
“Sophomore year? Are you kidding?”
Keith handed her another picture. “Take a look,” he ordered.
She read the title and shrugged. “So? Everyone reads this for English or for debate class. It’s a coincidence.” She handed the picture back and noted the muscle in his jaw again with a growing sense of unease.
He leaned toward her. “Michael took the picture, and none of this is a coincidence,” he asserted.
“He couldn’t have. He’s in the picture. I showed you—”
“It’s not Michael.”
“It is. There’s no one else it could be. Give me the picture, and I’ll show you.”
Keith dropped the picture into her hands, and she prepared to point out the man, but it was a different picture. The shock of it sent a spike of pain behind her eyes. Katheryn dropped the picture and scrambled out of the chair with a squawk. She pressed herself into the corner, gasping for breath and covering her eyes with her hands, trying to wash away the image in her mind.
Keith removed her hands and faced her. His expression was no less threatening. “Is Ty the problem or are you? Tell me. You didn’t like Tiberius. He’s dead. You wanted O’Hanlon. He became your father and your security blanket. You didn’t like Peter or Monica. You didn’t get along with your mother after the night on the plateau. Were you angry with your birth father because he paid too much attention to Carol when she was born?” he demanded in a rush. “You say Tiberius used powers to control people. Did it come to a showdown, Katie?”
“Yes, it did,” she stormed. Katheryn sucked in her breath as his mouth dropped open in shock.
“You admit that?”
“That he tried to destroy me? Yes. You know he tried to destroy me. You just have no idea how completely he tried to do the job,” she explained.
“You used O’Hanlon to win? You made him stay with you so you could feel safe?”
“No. That wasn’t my doing. I couldn’t have— I hope to God I couldn’t have.”
“But you’re not sure?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I was a traumatized child. Where does wanting end and doing begin? I don’t really know the answer to that, Keith, but I don’t think I was able. My mind wasn’t working in any other way.”
“What about me?” he thundered again. “You wanted me.”
His face seemed to swim before her eyes, as the logic he was following finally became clear to her. His blue eyes were almost black with anger. His sandy hair fell over his forehead in a careless way that made her long to push it away from his eyes. Katheryn lost him again, but this time it wasn’t her mistake to correct. If he really believed what he said, there was no making this right.
“No,” she protested weakly. “I didn’t—”
“You’re sure about that?” he demanded.
Katheryn backed further away, back into the shelter of the corner. She tried to pull back the tears that threatened. Finally, she dropped her chin to her chest and shook her head. “Anything else?” she asked.
“What?” his voice was unsure this time, off guard, as if this was the last thing he expected.
“Since I don’t have the answers you want to hear, is there anything else you need?” She forced her voice to remain cool and even, but she couldn’t look at him. If Katheryn looked at him, she’d ask him to stay. She’d beg him to stay. Keith couldn’t stay. Not now.
He hesitated.
“If there’s nothing else you need, you should go, Keith.” She swallowed the tears again. Please, just go. I can’t do this. I can’t keep you here if you really think I could do that.
As if he heard her, Keith turned and gathered up his papers. He slammed the door as he left.
She looked at the door for a moment before sinking into the corner and letting the tears fall. When Katheryn had recovered, she went to the master bathroom to wash her face. On the way back through the bedroom, she stopped at the bedside table. Katheryn swept the pile of condoms into the trash. She wouldn’t have any need of those for a long, long time. It was time to go to work.
* * *
Keith cursed himself halfway home. The other half, he questioned his motives. Why did he say it? Of course, he knew why. He was scared to death.
Did he believe for an instant that she forced him to stay? No. For years, Katie hated him. Keith dated other women, slept with other women. He could have moved on. Keith always wanted a chance, and he finally got it. God help him, it was better than anything he had ever had. And he was throwing it away?
Did he really think she forced O’Hanlon to stay? Probably not. It was more likely that the man stayed because he saw something he couldn’t walk away from. Was it mother or daughter? Who knew? O’Hanlon knew when Katie needed him, but that was no crime.
What about the rest? Could she kill someone? Keith considered what he knew about her from observing Katie over the years. She tutored. She did meals on wheels. She donated money to worthy causes. Katie walked, bowled, and even jumped rope for them if it would help someone. She was never vindictive. She was snide at times—sarcastic, certainly. Katie could hold her own in a fight, but she didn’t start them.
Keith cursed himself again. This time, he pulled over to do it. Whatever was going on wasn’t something he wanted to be within a million miles of. He could admit that much to himself. But, how could he not
only desert her but hurt her on top of it?
In truth, Keith didn’t have to desert her at all. Katie warned him off. All she asked was that he step back and let her work without him in the way. She wanted to do it alone, and Keith wouldn’t let her. Then, when she finally trusted and depended on him, he pulled this? She shouldn’t have given him another chance. He wasn’t worthy of it.
He turned back. Katie probably wouldn’t give him the time of day now, but he had to try. Keith knocked on her door and yelled for her several times before she answered.
“Go away, Keith. You’ve said enough,” she informed him through the door.
“I’ve been an ass. Let me in.”
“Nice try. Go home and have a stiff drink.”
“You asked if I needed anything else. I do. I need you.”
“You’re going downhill. That line wasn’t even believable. Just give it up.”
“No. I haven’t given up in fifteen years. I’m not giving up now. Come on. Let me in. The neighbors are going to call the police.”
“Good. It will save me the trouble,” she replied miserably.
Keith wished he could see her face. “You don’t mean that.”
She didn’t answer.
“Katie, you don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t mean that.” Her voice was low and choked with emotion.
“Then let me in.”
“No.”
“I’ll stay out here until you do. I’ll sleep out here if I have to.”
“You’ll freeze,” she protested.
She did still care. Thank God.
“It’s dropping to below forty tonight,” she warned him.
“My life is in your hands,” he asserted simply.
“That’s not funny,” Katie snapped at him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean the things I said. I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you. Go away.”
“Please, Katie,” he implored her, laying his head on the door. Keith couldn’t leave it like this.
“Why? Why can’t you leave?” She barely whispered it. If he hadn’t had his head on the door, he might not have heard it at all.
“Why aren’t you walking away from the door?” he countered quietly, running his hand up as if he could feel her behind the thick wood. “You don’t want to screw this up any more than I do, despite my big mouth. You don’t want to lose it, either.”
Katie didn’t answer.
“Please, let me in.”
The lock snapped open, and Keith sighed in relief. When she didn’t open the door, he turned the knob and swung it wide before him. Katie stood with her back to him in the hall doorway. He closed and locked the door slowly, wishing that she would look at him, that she would talk to him.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” she offered quietly.
“I’d like you to look at me,” he said softly.
“I’m getting a Coke. Would you like one?”
Keith sighed raggedly. “Yeah. I would. Thanks.”
She nodded and walked down the hallway. He followed behind with his hands shoved deep in his pockets so he wouldn’t try to touch her. Keith seethed that he had relegated himself back to this level so easily.
Katie wasn’t going to make this easy on him, but why should she? Keith certainly hadn’t been easy on her. He reached out to touch her arm, but Katie turned from the fridge and pressed a Coke into his outstretched hand without looking at him. She breezed by him and headed for the living room. Keith sighed and opened his can, taking a deep drink before following her out.
In the living room, Katie curled into the leather chair that she sat in earlier, her father’s chair she had told him just last night. Keith almost groaned at the memory of his immediate push to make love to her in the wide, soft chair. She hadn’t fought the idea though she blushed at the thought of it. It had been good between them, as it was always good between them—sexually.
Katie had her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin tucked behind them so that her face was fully hidden by the fall of hair around it.
“I’m not sure you can drink your Coke that way,” he said quietly, grasping at any excuse to get her to look up at him.
She dropped the unopened can next to her foot. “That’s okay. I don’t really want it,” she confessed.
“Look at me, Katie,” he pleaded.
“No. That would be a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“Take a guess,” she answered miserably.
“Well, I can think of several possibilities. One. You love me and you’re afraid that you’ll fall into my arms if you look at me. Two. You hate me, and you can’t bear to look at me. Three. You’re hurt, and you think you’ll hit me if you look at me. Four. You’re upset, and you think you’ll burst into tears if you look at me.”
“Five. I feel all of those things, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I look at you which means six—I’m scared to death, and I want you to go away so I don’t have to find out what I’ll do.”
“That’s better than I hoped for,” he admitted.
“Why are you here, Keith?”
“Because I love you, and I’m kicking myself for what I did. You didn’t deserve it. I didn’t kick the brain in at all. I just reacted.”
“Fine. Now, you’ve said what you came to say. Is there anything else?”
“You still want me to leave?” he asked in desperation.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, we’re not done, here.”
“Why? Is there more that you have to say to me?” A cold, hard edge crept into her voice.
“Yes, there is. You admit that you love me, but you still want me to leave?”
“I don’t want it. I need it.”
“Why?”
She didn’t answer.
“Look, I know I was wrong. You’re not capable of—”
“You’re wrong. I can. I can’t live like this with you, having you wonder if every decision you make is your own. It’s not fair to either of us. Better that we drop it now than live like that. We’d just mistrust and hate each other more every day.”
He moved closer to her. “No one makes my decisions for me, Katie. Especially not this one.”
A spike of pain lanced behind his eyes. His forehead radiated a burning sensation. Keith watched in a detached sort of understanding as his hand moved to the chest. His Coke tumbled to the top as he released it, spilling the dark liquid over the bare wood. His head was spinning wildly, and he found it hard to breathe. Keith tried to right the can, but his hand stopped just shy of it, and he couldn’t seem to force it to move further.
It all cleared, and he sucked in his breath as his hand dropped to his side. The room came back into focus slowly as his breathing normalized. With the freedom of thought and breathing, the memory returned. Katie pushed him. She forced him to do what she wanted. She hurt him.
Katie stared at him with tears in her eyes and a pained expression on her face. “Do you still believe that? Can you ever believe that again?” she asked quietly.
Keith moved abruptly. He sat on the edge of the chest in front of her and grabbed her by her upper arms roughly, growling his anger at what she did deep in his throat. She looked at him calmly, and some rational part of his brain recognized that she was laying herself open to any retaliation he cared to take with no reprisals from her. It was a penance of sorts.
“I make my own decisions,” he assured her. “You can force me to do something, but I’d remember it if I were released.” His mind was working at full speed now. “Everyone remembered when Tiberius died. I’m right, aren’t I?” He relaxed his grip on her arms considerably, though he didn’t release her.
She nodded silently.
He drew her forward by the grip on her arms. Keith kissed her gently, but she pulled her face away, dropping it back to her chest.
“No,” she pleaded with him. “Don’t, please.”
“No one is forcing me, Katie. I w
ant to be here. Don’t turn me away.”
She tried to bury a sob, but she didn’t answer him.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
Katie met his eyes miserably, and he flinched at the tears running down her cheeks.
“What deal?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“Let me stay.”
She shook her head.
“I won’t lay a hand on you if that’s what you want. Just don’t send me away.”
Katie looked down at the floor. “I don’t think that would work out so well,” she managed. “It’s better if you just leave now.”
“On the couch,” he persisted. “I won’t even sleep in one of the spare rooms upstairs. I promise I’ll stay down here.”
She met his eyes again and nodded, but she still seemed uncertain.
He smiled wryly. “I can’t believe I promised that, but I did, so relax. I’ll keep my promise.”
Katie ran a hand through her hair and laughed nervously. “Let’s just hope I can, right?” she mused.
Keith stifled a laugh at that. Much better than he hoped for. “Let’s get some food in you.”
She groaned at the thought, but he hauled her gently to her feet.
“Food. Doctor’s orders,” he commanded.
Dinner was a disaster. Katie barely picked at her food, and she did little more than smile weakly at his jokes. She headed to bed at a little after nine, and Keith realized just how wiped out she had to be to do that.
She reappeared long enough to give him pillows and blankets, and Keith nodded in resignation as he thanked her for them. He made a promise, and Katie was holding him to it. He cursed his big mouth yet again as he made his bed up and settled in for the night. The couch was more comfortable than Keith anticipated, but it was as cold and empty as his own bed would have been.
* * *
Keith wasn’t sure what woke him. He lay for a long time, listening to the stillness of the dark house. “I’m crazy,” he muttered as he rolled over and pulled the blanket over his shoulder.
He grumbled at the dress pants biting into his waist as he slept, but considering the alternative of somehow offending Katie when the chance was that she still wouldn’t be willing to let him make this up to her in the morning, he chose to wear the damn pants. Katie certainly seemed intent on pushing him away any way she could, including that mental push of hers. If she tried that, Katie was desperate to get rid of him. That wasn’t something Keith could accept.