Dark Days (Written Pictures #2)

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Dark Days (Written Pictures #2) Page 19

by H. A. Kotys


  She couldn’t rely on Alexei to save her. After all, he strode away when she had been at her lowest, needed him most. But then nor could she rely on herself anymore and she didn’t know which hurt the most. Raven had been wounded, perhaps mortally so.

  There was perhaps only one real hope now and that lay in a woman she had once treated as nothing more than a feckless shadow, a poor imitation of all she was, more never-be than wannabe. She was a pitiful creature now but she needed her more than she had ever needed anyone. Hope was a game of chance anyway and screwing her eyes tightly shut she decided to spin the wheel and bet her future on Red.

  CHAPTER XLV – Four Score

  The little black and white cat sat upright on the arm at the end of the sofa to consider her selection. It was a difficult choice but an important one and looking from one set of legs to the next, she debated long and hard which lap would be graced with her bottom.

  The lap to her left she knew well - it belonged to the legs that fed her. She was familiar with it, comfortable with it and she liked the way it tickled her under the chin and reacted to the encouragement of a purr. It was familiar though and so natural feline curiosity discounted it when there were new laps to try. With a twitch of her whiskers, she shifted her attention to the next.

  The lap beside the first she also knew well. It never fed her but it was always around and always looking for the attention of the first lap. She despised it for that, a rival for her affections so no, not that lap, it wouldn’t have the privilege. In fact she owed it a pee in her shoebox later. That lap would have to be content with the daily reward of scooping clumps out of her litter tray.

  Setting off across the floor, the little cat padded quietly as the laps chuntered above her. If she didn’t know better she could mistake it for some kind of primitive attempt at communication. They were certainly animated and she wondered why they had all gathered to disturb her snooze.

  She approached the third lap. This lap was loud, even though smaller than the rest. Its legs twitched as it spoke and the little cat dismissed it as an uncomfortable ride. She wouldn’t be the lucky one today either and with a flick of her tail, the black and white cat moved on.

  The last seemed calmer and nuzzling the lap’s high leather boots, the little cat was encouraged by a finger reaching down in response and pleasantly twisting around her ear. This one showed potential and perhaps even knew how to treat a cat. Yes, this lap was the one. Leaping up, she started to nuzzle the lap to tell it of her needs. Circling twice, the little cat finally settled in place, curling her tail around her legs as the lap did what a lucky lap should and started to softly stroke her head.

  == ~ ==

  Swaying there gently, Jacqueline’s eyes were open though her only focus was on her mind’s eye. Recent events, as always, were replaying in her head and clenched her attention so tightly that she didn’t hear his approach, the first she knew of it being a light brush of his leg against her breast, causing her to gasp in surprise.

  The familiarity of his muscular legs were a comfort, though less so than they had been. But she leant her head toward them anyway, reaching out for whatever they could offer to help her start to cope with the legacy of her ordeal.

  She inhaled deeply, taking in his masculine aroma. It shouldn’t have drawn her as it did but somehow the innate strength of his scent promised the security she craved so badly and she touched her cheek against his leg to draw from it.

  His leg moved against her breast, stimulating a sensation to shoot through her body that she could have done without.

  “You cause many waves, girl,” he casually observed in an ironic understatement even the English would have been proud of as he looked out to sea. Circling his knee gently against her, his touch and words brought a moan from her lips as she processed them, trying to wring out some deeper meaning.

  “Yes Master.” Her reply was croaky, a natural statement of place before she had even considered the correct manner in which to answer. Both looked out to the distant horizon where the evening sky melted into the sea, both lost in thoughts.

  With a sigh, Alexei broke the silence, circling his leg against her breast once more before withdrawing it and crossing one ankle over the other. “Tomorrow is new day, girl,” Alexei said as if explaining something, without really saying anything. Pulling himself up, he rose to his feet and strode away, leaving Jacqueline alone to her thoughts and the steady drift of the tide.

  CHAPTER XLVI – Lapping It Up

  If she could have frowned, she would and even the obedient stroking of the hand couldn’t dispel the little cat’s growing frustration at the rising level of noise the laps were making. She knew she had selected her resting place well though. This lap had elongated nails which scratched the back of her head in a way she would search out again.

  New experiences were always worth hunting for and this was one she would remember. To reward the lap, the little cat flexed her claws only to hear it gasp and feel it shuffle under her. It was pleasant to feel the undulation of the legs so the little cat stretched her claws again, riding the lap happily as it wriggled beneath.

  It didn’t stop the noise though and the little cat roared her meow of disapproval in a vain attempt to remind the laps whose presence they were in. The voices silenced and the little cat would have smiled at their obedience if she could, narrowing her eyes instead to the pleasure of her primacy.

  All eyes turned to look toward the little cat and stretching her neck, she showed off her contented bliss by resting her chin comfortably on a paw as her chosen lap began to make noises at the others, probably to show some kind of triumph in being chosen. Content with that, the little cat closed her eyes.

  “I hear what you’re saying Kat and understand, I really do,” the little cat’s lap explained, her green eyes looking to the others in the room. “The bottom line is though,” Jade continued, “she’s pure evil and deserves all she gets. My vote is that we leave her right where she is and she takes all that’s coming to her.”

  The little cat’s eyes cracked open as the lap with the twitching legs took her turn. “She helped me, in her own way, when nobody else was there for me,” Mela began. “I saw enough in her to know she doesn’t deserve what she is going through. Nobody does.”

  The four laps paused, digesting the short exchange and the little cat nuzzled deeper into comfort, glad that she had allowed them to get the noise out of their systems and happy now that she could sleep again in peace.

  To her feline disgust though, her lap started to make noise again. “Okay, so we have one vote for, one vote against. Amber?”

  The little cat’s eyes snapped open angrily. Did they not know this was the time for her fifth nap? A cat could risk falling behind on her quota with this noisy jabbering. It wasn’t as if they had important things to discuss, even if they could.

  The little cat fixed on her best death-stare, daring any lap to make noise again. They weren’t to be tamed though, not today at least and the lap with the legs that fed her started to make its own noise. “Kat’s been the one most affected in all this.” All eyes rested on Amber as she spoke. “It was Raven that took her and changed her life. But doing that also changed mine.” Amber took Kat’s hand in hers and looked at her lover. “My vote goes with whichever way she votes.”

  And so it was set with no chance for stalemate. All eyes turned to the dark-haired young woman whose turn it was to disturb the little cat’s world.

  CHAPTER XLVII – Road Rage

  Jade stamped hard on the pedal and the dark green Jaguar twitched before the rear wheels found traction. With a judder, the rear of the car slithered and they sped away. It hadn’t gone as she had expected but it had certainly matched her fears. She had gone thinking she would agree with them but when push came to shove, she just couldn’t bring herself to vote to help the bitch.

  The bitch had taken Michael and stolen her love for nothing but a cheap fuck and a temporary place to call home. The vote had been fair enough thoug
h. She would abide by it and help them, she would even made the call to the Prince to call in the favour they needed and yet Jade couldn’t help but hate the decision they had taken.

  The wind whipped her hair. She was glad she had thought to put the roof down but even the invigorating rush of air couldn’t blow away Jade’s deep-seated concerns. The decision had been made though and she felt obliged to try to support it, despite her misgivings, despite it making her feel sick to the stomach.

  The decision had been made to help the bitch. Kat’s compassion, though admirable, had been like a dagger driven hard through Jade’s heart. She had tried to close that door and move on and yet she felt clawing fingers snatching at her to drag her back to the hurt that still disturbed her sleep every single night.

  Beside her, Mela could sense the building resentment, mirrored as it was by the aggression of Jade’s driving as she threw the sports car into the mountain’s curves. She had never seen her like this before. Normally so controlled, so serene, the bubbling anger within Jade couldn’t be fully hidden and was something that scared her.

  They were on opposing sides in this argument and inside Mela, the fear grew that this was fundamental. There might be no way back. How long had it been? Had their relationship already run its course?

  Jade had been so kind to her, helping her rebuild after the trauma of the events of the mansion yet somehow they had never quite clicked in the way that Amber and Kat clearly had, or that Mela had hoped.

  At first the compassion had been so welcome. Tenderness had replaced torture but that tenderness had lacked the tantalising trauma that Mela needed to keep her past from driving her mad.

  It had been coming and Mela knew it. All it had needed was a catalyst for it all to boil over but she wasn’t ready yet, she wasn’t strong enough to go into the future alone. Glancing over to Jade, she noticed how tightly she pressed her lips together while she focussed intensely on the road ahead.

  “She took me in!” blurted out Mela without warning, least of all to herself.

  “She took my life!” shot back Jade with surprising venom.

  A heavy silence settled again with the only sounds the rush of wind in their hair and the increased pitch of the powerful engine. Jade threw the car into another curve, her red leather gloves gripping the steering wheel tightly, turning it hard into the corner to the protest of tyres.

  “She saved me, Jade!” an increasingly desperate Mela pleaded.

  “She killed my man!” Jade spat, her ace slapped down onto the table hard; the image of Michael Immelmann lying there twisted and dead indelibly etched on her mind. Her head snapped round to Mela, glaring at the misguided girl whose chin trembled.

  “Jade!” Mela cried without turning to meet her gaze.

  “Jade!!” she yelled again with increased fear.

  By the time Jade realised it was a warning rather than a plea, it was already too late. Snapping her attention back to the road, she was instantly blinded by the flashing headlights of a truck as it sped round the corner, horn now blaring.

  With a scream, Jade wrestled the wheel to fight the speeding car back to her own side of the road. It was too late, too fast. It was all she could do to wrench the steering wheel hard enough to dive across the front of the truck, missing it by inches. The car though struck the far curb hard, front wheels leaving the ground, removing any chance of further control. Before either woman could scream again, the airborne car smashed through the barrier and careered off the road.

  CHAPTER XLVIII – Red Rising

  Red stretched – she had eaten a meal fit for a king. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten so well but then again the constant commotion of the birds meant she couldn’t remember much at all these days anyway.

  It had been her plan to try to ignore them for a minute, then two, then three, taking each moment as a snatched triumph from the hell they caused her. As yet she had only managed to last four minutes until the deep swoop of the black bird in her mind caused Red’s resistance to crumple and her to flail her arms above her head in a wild attempt to preserve her own space, while it cried and cawed, “Murderer, murderer.”

  She did feel a little stronger now though. Even the birds couldn’t take away the satisfaction she felt after a hearty meal. Perhaps she would give something back in her fucking today, show the large, muscled man that his attentions were appreciated and that she could be worth that little extra effort. With that thought, Red risked a smile that lasted until the next of the birds dived down to try to peck at her eyes.

  The latch of the door slid open but today the muscled man had been replaced by a bizarre looking, waspish man in a red and yellow costume. His face was twisted into a seemingly permanent smile that looked to mock her ceaseless battle with the birds and placing the bag he carried to her right, he licked his tongue over the side of her face as he retrieved a syringe.

  She knew what was coming next and twisted her head away and her arm ready. She hated needles but what this one administered she craved and was so, so good.

  The needle plunged into her forearm, the usual narcotic and hallucinogens laced with stimulants as they had been the day before. A moan passed her quivering lips as she felt the drugs course through her. “So good. So fucking good.” When the strange man groped her breast, Red rose to his hand as thanks for what she had received, contented.

  == ~ ==

  Mela paced the corridor, agitated. “Come on, come on.” She pursed her lips, biting fingernails as she strode up and down. “Fuck! Come ON!” she beseeched again, causing a woman to steer her small child away in the opposite direction.

  Her head still throbbed and she could feel the tug of the stitches above her eye. Prodding the red button on the phone, she cut the unanswered call and tried again, scrolling further down her directory, beyond Amber to find Kat’s entry. Mela punched the mobile number listing and thrust the phone back to her ear just as the ringtone started.

  God, she hated fucking hospitals. Somehow, they had come to signify all that had gone wrong in her life. That smell, the invasively bright light, the perky efficiency of staff that pretended to care. They had never cared about her brother and they couldn’t wait to patch her up and push her off the medical conveyor belt tonight either.

  Her hip hurt like fuck but still she paced with her smartphone glued to her ear, willing it to be answered. “Hi Mela, you’re calling early sweetie, what’s wrong?” The groggy voice at the other end of the phone was Kat’s, finally wakened by the insistent ringing.

  “It’s….it’s….it’s Jade, she’s….” And as Mela tried to say the words, the tears started to flow.

  Kat sat bolt upright, unable to believe what she was hearing. Peering at her clock through sleep-glued eyes she saw it had only been a matter of hours since the four of them had been locked in the discussion that had apparently been continued by the pair in the car, and had ultimately led to the crash.

  Listening to Mela’s tear-stained account, Kat pictured it in her head and winced as she imagined the car leaving the road and diving out of control down the embankment and onto its side.

  Mela had been lucky, at least physically. The car had slid in such a way that she was away from the full force of the impact. As a result though it had hit the tree right where Jade had been sat. Even though she was lying in a coma, she was lucky it hadn’t instantly cost her her life.

  She hated to say it but she had to. “We have to abandon the plan,” urged Kat after being satisfied by several reassurances that Mela was okay.

  “No. We can’t, otherwise Jade was hurt for nothing,” reasoned Mela, steeling herself for what she was about to say, “I’ll do it instead.”

  CHAPTER XLIX – Turn of Events

  In her dreams, Jacqueline Corbeau relived both the day and the life that had delivered her to it. When she woke, one leg hung over the edge of her bed while the other was wrapped so tightly in the sheet that she could barely move it. It took a while to place herself properly, so vivid had
been her dreams but the chain from the band around her ankle eventually reminded her precisely where she was.

  They had allowed her a shower after the pier and before she had been locked to the bed and it had been utter bliss. No matter how hard she scrubbed though the stench of the man called Yuri remained. It was a smell she would never forget with its reek of alcohol, body odour and breath, the latter two made worse by the heat of the sun and the exertion of their fight.

  He would come again soon no doubt and Jacqueline wondered just how long his rough hands would scrape over her body then. Hearing footsteps beyond the locked door, she clutched the thin white sheet and drew it up her to her neck, a flimsy barrier that would soon enough be ripped from her no doubt. She was afraid to face him again.

  The door swinging open caused her to flinch and memories of the previous day assaulted her, making her press herself into the pillow. Though it was indeed a man from the day before, rather than filling the frame, he was slender, shorter and dressed in a seedy jester’s garb of tatty red and a yellow that might have once been white.

 

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