A Bedtime Story

by L. C. Moon

“Laura...”

  His voice came to her disembodied. She was still lost in the moment, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. “Hmm?” came her absentminded answer.

  “Laura.” His voice was stricter, demanding her attention as he stopped caressing her.

  The slightest shift in his mood was enough to snap her back to reality. “Yes, sir.”

  “You asked me to help you…”

  “Yes…” she answered wearily. She didn’t expect him to bring it up, in this moment, as she lay in his arms, naked and spent.

  He moved behind her, then placed a very familiar-looking postcard in front of her. Her heart clamped, and she felt her chest tighten. She instantly jumped out of his embrace, reaching for it. “Where did you get this!” she almost screamed, as her fingers lovingly caressed the postcard. She turned back to him, sitting up, eyeing him with terror as she awaited his explanation.

  He sat up on his elbow; his voice soft, he ignored her question. “Where is he, Laura?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. It was all a scheme to get her to speak, the seduction, everything. He only fucked her to get her to talk. She felt as though she got punched in the gut. Betrayed, used, enraged, and hurt, she didn’t know how to feel or which emotion was worse.

  “You used me…” she finally said, her face expressing the repulsion she felt toward him. “You really are a monster.”

  He sprung up and pinned her back on the mattress. “Am I?” he growled. “Who do you think has been protecting you all along? Huh? Who do you think stopped them from interrogating you? Your guardian angels?” His voice was low but jerky. “No, Laura… It’s a monster that’s been keeping you all safe and warm in your ivory tower,” he hissed. “I could’ve left you. Dimitri wants you. Maxwell wants you. Do you think they would have shown you the patience I have…?” He laughed sardonically in answer to his own question.

  Then his tone softened, as did his hold on her wrists. “I am helping you, can’t you see that?”

  Tears fell to the side of her face, drops forming on the pillow. She remained quiet, turning her gaze away from him.

  “Look at me, Laura.”

  She did, her eyes holding a resigned intensity. He rested his forehead against hers and breathed a long sigh before meeting her gaze again.

  “They will find him… soon. We tracked him down to Chicago. It won’t be long now.” He broke the bad news, his voice soft.

  She closed her eyes to the flood of silent tears rushing down her cheeks.

  “Trust me, Laura, you would rather I find him first. I will go alone.”

  “To kill him…”

  “To retrieve the information he stole. I’ll make sure he doesn’t suffer. Believe me, Laura, it’s the best option you have.”

  “No! No!” she sobbed. “You can’t kill him!”

  “I can’t let him walk,” he admitted, his face grave.

  “No…” she repeated in broken sobs.

  “It will be quick and painless. I give you my word.”

  “No! I can’t… Please…” She was gasping for air.

  “Even if I could, Laura, it would just delay the inevitable. When they find him, it won’t be quick. They will torture him. He will be begging for death. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” “No… no... But he would still have a chance… They’ve been hunting him for eight months. He’s good, they won’t catch him...” she pleaded desperately, her whole body convulsing with uncontrollable sobs. “Please... Kayne… Please…”

  He considered her for a moment then leaned closer, kissed her temples, and brushed her hair away from her face.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” she asked, disbelieving, waiting for the confirmation that she had finally lost touch with reality.

  “Tell me where he is. I won’t kill him,” he asserted, his eyes locked with hers.

  He reached for the postcard and handed it back to her. He rolled off her, sitting up, while she pushed herself up and leaned her back against the headboard.

  Her fingers traced the little patterns on the card lovingly, and she brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.

  “Promise me.” She finally looked up at him.

  “I promise.” He nodded, his eyes solemn.

  She gazed at the card, the fatality of it dawning on her. She felt numb, felt herself going out of her body and witnessing a stranger dictate the address, down to the street and apartment number.

  “How do you know?”

  She proceeded to explain the infantile and yet complex coding system her brother had invented, interchanging letters and numbers following math equations to determine the city and state, their arrangement dictating which characters stood for which. A square meant a residential building, a rectangle a motel, characters within a circle determined a room or apartment number, and so forth…

  He sighed, slowly getting off the bed and reaching for his shirt.

  “Are you leaving… now?” she asked, her voice growing shrill with panic.

  He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead in response.

  “Wait… wait!”

  “Try to get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He offered her a weary smile, and just like that, he was gone.

  ***

  Laura remained still, in shock. Everything had happened so fast. She was unsure of what happened, so much, too much, in one short night. She looked back at the card, realization creeping up on her. She took it in her hands and kissed it over and over again, as tears rolled down and fell on the thick paper, diluting the blue ink. But he promised, promised, he wouldn’t kill him. She clung to this promise, to the only hope she still had that kept her pieced together. She slid herself under the covers, bringing them over her head just as she had when she was a little girl, and stared into nothingness, her mind completely blank.

  Day-13

  Kayne found himself in a messy, dirty apartment. It was past eleven at night, and he was tired, going on almost forty-eight hours without sleep. He had driven all day. It hadn’t taken him long to retrace the given address. He removed a heap of dirty clothes off a beat-up armchair. Wearing a suit and black leather gloves, he dusted the seat before sitting, pulled his silencer from its holster, and rested it on his lap. Patiently, he waited.

  The door unlocked, and a man walked into the living room, looking disheveled. He was wearing dirty clothes, his face gaunt, and his body impossibly thin. He was carrying a grocery bag, containing everything but groceries. Twitching, he deposited it on the only remaining space on the table as Kayne remained silent, waiting for the man to notice him.

  The man finally turned around, his look of shock quickly dissipating into resignation. “I should’ve known it would be you…” Peter smiled bitterly.

  “It’s been a long time,” Kayne conceded. He had actually gotten along with Peter back then. There was a mutual respect between the two. Kayne never forgave Peter for his betrayal, took it even more personally due to their closeness at the time.

  “Yup. How did you find me?”

  “Take a seat, Peter.” Kayne waved the gun toward the sofa. Peter looked around, sighed, then dropped to the sofa facing Kayne.

  “Laura,” Kayne explained with this one word.

  Peter instantly snapped up, his eyes full of venom.

  “What have you done to her?”

  “Sit down, Peter.”

  “Answer me, you son of a bitch!”

  “She’s fine.” Kayne raised his voice. “Sit down.”

  Peter hesitated; he knew Kayne. He knew he didn’t lie. For the first time, he felt shame. He hadn’t felt shame when he begged for money, stole, and mugged, when he squatted and went through trash. But now, hearing his sister’s name from that man’s mouth, knowing he was the cause of it, he realized the scum he was.

  “She’s fine, Peter, no harm has come to her,” Kayne reassured him, his tone softer.

  “She gave me up that easy, huh? Good on her...” He smiled sadly as he re
claimed his seat.

  “No. She hasn’t.”

  “Okay…” Peter added, confused.

  “I gave her my word I wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “The case file.”

  Peter nodded, went rummaging through a heap of broken things and dirty laundry, then pulled out a USB key.

  “Here, it’s all there. I destroyed the folder. I transferred it onto this key.” He handed it to Kayne. “Where is she?”

  “She’s at my house, under my protection.”

  Peter exhaled the breath he’d been holding, relief washing over his face. “So that’s it? You’re just going to let me walk?” He laughed, disbelieving.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Yeah... Dimitri can sure hold a grudge, can’t he?” He chuckled bitterly, his eyes defeated. “I just couldn’t, Kayne, I mean, I know I’m no fuckin’ Captain America, but the women trafficking… I just couldn’t…” He shook his head. “I kept thinking of Laura, you know? What if someone did that to her?”

  Kayne gave a small nod.

  “What about Laura? Dimitri will want you to get rid of her… a liability…” he uttered, disgusted.

  “I won’t. I’ll keep her safe.”

  Peter considered him a moment. “You… care about her…” He wasn’t asking; he was just voicing his incredible realization. Turned out, Kayne Malkin did have a heart after all.

  Kayne remained impassive as Peter smiled at his old friend.

  “You promised her you wouldn’t kill me?”

  Kayne nodded again, this time the move more deliberate.

  “But you have to.”

  Kayne reached inside his pocket and brought out aluminum foil and a syringe. He deposited them on the table. “It’s good stuff.” Peter laughed, his face surly. “And if I don’t… You let me walk?” “If you don’t, Dimitri will have her interrogated. In two days. That’s all the time I could get.”

  Peter’s face dropped; he understood. Kayne meant to keep his word. He wouldn’t kill him. Peter would have to do it all by himself, or Laura would pay the price. The two men stared at each other in silence. Peter finally nodded, his face somber, his body relaxing, finally accepting his fate. He stood up and reached for the package.

  “You know... I was trying to quit… shit is bad for you,” he joked, disheartened. They quietly chuckled together. “What about Dimitri? Doubt he’ll be too pleased with an overdose…”

  Kayne simply waved the gun in response.

  “You thought of everything, huh? Well… can you wait ’til after the high?”

  It was such an unusually morbid conversation, undertaken with calm pleasantries. Peter, much like his sister, always resorted to humor, even in his darkest hour.

  “I’ll wait until it’s all over. The gun’s just for the pictures, for Dimitri’s benefit.”

  Peter threw his head back, smiling tight-lipped with understanding. “Can I write her?”

  Kayne closed his eyes in acknowledgment, and Peter went scavenging for a paper and pen, then began cooking the heroin. He scribbled away on a paper he handed to Kayne, then went back to filling the syringe.

  “Take care of her.”

  “You have my word.”

  They nodded at each other, their eyes grim.

  “Well… Cheers, mate!” Peter raised the syringe.

  Kayne smiled back at his old friend one last time.

  Day-16

  It had been two days since Kayne left. Laura had gone through every emotion possible. What’s taking him so long? She kept imagining the worst, hoping for the best, caught in the limbo between. She asked Olga constantly for news of Kayne’s whereabouts. It seemed Olga was in the dark as well. Olga fretted over her, checking in on her constantly, almost force-feeding her in bed. She stayed by her side, watching over her while pretending to busy herself with other things.

  It was late at night. Laura had asked Olga to keep her company, and the latter was glad to oblige. She was reading in the chair by her bed when sounds coming from the entrance made them both jump up.

  “Kayne!” Laura exclaimed and leaped to her feet, rushing out of her bedroom. The door opened as she reached for the handle, and she ran into him.

  “Kayne…” She smiled up at him, her eyes full of hope.

  His expression was inscrutable. He kept his eyes locked in on her then turned to Olga. “Would you give us a moment?”

  “Of course, Master Kayne, I’ll boil some tea.” Though happy to see him, Olga left the room feeling uneasy about his tense expression.

  “Kayne?” Laura asked, her voice quavering, her high hopes slowly evaporating. “He’s okay? He’s okay, isn’t he?” She already knew the answer from his severe expression but refused to believe it.

  He shut the door behind him, led her gently to the bed, and made her sit. He knelt in front of her and shook his head.

  “No! No! You promised! You promised!” she screamed.

  “It was suicide, Laura.”

  “No… I don’t believe you... Peter would never, NEVER!”

  He closed his eyes and nodded his head in acknowledgment. He then handed her a paper note that was tucked in his front pocket. “What is this?”

  “Read it.”

  She grabbed the paper from his hand, eyeing it suspiciously, then immediately recognized the handwriting.

  My Sweet Laura,

  I fucked up. So bad. I failed you in so many ways. Please forgive me. You will be safe now. I love you, always and forever.

  Peter

  “No…” She shook her head in denial. “NO!” she then screamed forcefully, falling to the floor, the sound almost inhuman.

  Kayne had dreaded the reunion. He had remained true to his word, though he couldn’t shake the feeling he had betrayed her nonetheless. He put his hand on her shoulder, wanting to comfort her.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ touch me! Do you hear me? Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” she bellowed hysterically.

  Kayne was taken aback, unsure what to do, how to deal with all this pain. He stood up, hovering over her as she wailed on the floor, lowering her body over her bended knees.

  “You did it… I know you did… It was you.” Her voice came out eerily soft. In an instant, she was up on her feet, staring him down, a demented gleam in her eye. “Tell me. Tell me to my face you didn’t kill him.”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  She could see the pity in his eyes. She snapped. Raising her arm to slap him, she called out, “LIAR!”

  He caught her hand midair, holding her wrist so tight it hurt. He maintained his calm, though his eyes betrayed his anger. “I know you’re upset, but I didn’t. He overdosed. I have a picture if you would like to see for yourself. Don’t you fuckin’ call me a liar,” he hissed. Then raising his voice, he added, “And don’t you EVER raise your hand at me.”

  But she knew. She knew in her heart he was lying. His denial felt like salt being poured over her wound. With blind rage, she looked at him defiantly, then spit in his face.

  His hand twisted her wrist even harder, his eyes narrowing with silent fury. But she held his gaze, challenging him, with the courage that’s granted to those who’ve lost reason. He didn’t bother wiping his face. He lifted his other hand and struck her, slapping her hard across her face, while still holding her wrist.

  Her entire body quavered on impact, only held up by the wrist he was still holding. She fell to the ground the instant he let go.

  She crawled back away from him, terror in her eyes, backing away until her back hit the wall. She wrapped her arms around her knees and started rocking herself, her eyes vacant.

  Within seconds, he wanted to go to her but immediately cooled off, still feeling her saliva dripping on his face.

  “When you’re ready to talk about it, you can come to me,” he said coolly after he wiped his face. He then walked out, leaving her behind, shattered on the floor.

  Day-24

  It had b
een almost ten days since Kayne returned. Olga, very upset that first night, had chased him down to the living room as he poured himself a glass of whiskey, drinking it standing by the bar. He was in one of those scary moods, and she could see his father staring out of his eyes. She didn’t let up. She’d seen the girl’s face, all red and swollen, but he simply snapped at her to leave it alone.

  Ever since that night, she stayed by the girl’s side. She brought ice for her face and fixed meals she liked, but Miss Laura wouldn’t eat. The girl was shrinking in front of her eyes. She wouldn’t get out of bed, she wouldn’t even cry. She just stared ahead, her eyes vacant, all day long. She allowed Olga to dress and undress her, even bathe her with no resistance. Olga’s heart broke for her. She would tell Master Kayne about it every evening. She could see how he listened attentively but then shrugged it off, his eyes cold. In the evenings, she’d pull a chair by her bed and stay with her until she fell asleep. She gave up trying to make her talk. She racked her brain trying to find a way to snap her out of her catatonic state. On the third night, Olga was recounting to Laura one of her favorite fairy tales from her childhood when her eyes moved, barely, but they moved. Olga knew she had found a way to reach into her. She continued telling her a different story each night, recounting old Russian folktales her own mother used to tell her when she was little. Laura turned to her, listening enraptured. She would close her eyes sometimes, as if imagining the tale in her mind, but remained quiet.

  It was during one of those evenings that she first spoke again. Olga had just finished telling her the tale of Alexei and Aniska, two orphans, brother and sister, wandering through the Russian wilderness.

  In the tale, the two siblings meet all sorts of characters throughout their journey, from friends and foes, to evil men and enchanted beasts. They learn the secrets of the Winter Woods, befriend a traveling bear, and even escape a murderous huntsman. Their journey leads them down the path of the Great White Wolf Witch. The cunning Witch lures the children into her realm, wishing to use them as sacrifice to undo the curse that had bound her spirit to that of the White Wolf’s. Unlike all their previous encounters, they can’t get out of this situation with wit and bravery alone. The Witch is strong, powerful, and most cunning of all. Yet a human part still remained in her heart. She had been a mother once, long, long ago. Her human heart would not let her forget it when the time came. Incapable of carving out the innocent children’s hearts to free herself, the Witch pierces her own. She dies alone in the snow, forsaken and unwept. It was a sad story.