by L. C. Moon
“Don’t worry, child, he feels the same.”
“Excuse me?” Laura uttered nervously.
“It’s obvious. He’s been watching you like a hawk, from the moment you left his side.” She smiled knowingly.
Laura was grateful to escape the beautiful hyenas badgering her. She wondered what Mrs. Drugova would think if she only knew why he watched her constantly. It wasn’t sweet young love, it was a captor supervising his prisoner, knowing that at this very moment, she contemplated walking out of the place. As simple as that. Keep walking, never turning back, walk past the fancy garden, past the unsuspecting security, or were they? But Laura knew she wouldn’t. It was more than a fear of reprisal that kept her locked in his world, more than a sense of safety in her captivity acquired through conditioning, more than Stockholm syndrome. Laura looked out the open gated entrance, considered the scary and beautiful world awaiting her past these doors, and knew she wouldn’t walk out.
“These women are idiots,” Mrs. Drugova proclaimed once they were at the safe distance from the pack. “But you’re not, are you?” She looked at Laura and smiled before pursuing, “You know exactly the kind of man he is.” She waited for Laura to concede, the latter barely nodding her head uncertainly.
“It’s a gift and a curse to be born a woman in this life. You’re neither his date nor his girlfriend,” she remarked.
Laura’s eyes watered, feeling trapped, caught in a lie she was forced into. She shook her head, looking down.
“But you want to be.”
Laura’s head snapped back up, shaking it repeatedly, with forced conviction, to which Mrs. Drugova smiled indulgently, amused. “I know Kayne. I’ve known him since he was a little boy. He cares for you. If he didn’t, you would be dead, Laura. Or worse…” Mrs. Drugova gave her the once-over, sizing her up. “Men like Kayne…” She shook her head. “When I met Dimitri, I immediately fell in love with him. But I wasn’t a fool about it. I did what I had to do to be with him, in a way that was tolerable for me. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“No…” she breathed, terrified.
“Don’t be naive and dream up a romance. He will have you, and I don’t just mean physically. I can see in your eyes how you feel about him. Be smart enough to make it on your own terms. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
“No… I can’t… It’s not like that…”
“So you’ll be his whore then, and you’ll be discarded when he’s done with you,” she stated with finality.
Laura’s eyes widened with shock, at the crude word coming from that regal woman’s mouth, from the truth of it. Everything felt surreal, the beautiful sunny day, the beach, Kayne watching her with his unique smile, this intimidating woman she never met, who knew all about her, giving her advice.
Her words were still playing in Laura’s head, when they rejoined the others. Mrs. Drugova smiled at her and nudged her head, indicating to Laura to turn around. Kayne was already walking to them and, embracing Laura from behind, exchanged a few pleasantries with Natasha.
“She’s a special girl. Hold on to her,” Mrs. Drugova finally said, gently squeezing Laura’s hand before she excused herself. A slow song was playing, and Mr. Drugov approached them to steal her away onto the dance floor.
“Don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere,” Kayne replied in a silky voice, more for Laura’s benefit.
Still in his embrace, Laura felt a shiver run down her spine. She turned her head sideways toward him, her apprehensive stare landing on laughing eyes.
He stepped back and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor as well. They danced with his hands on her waist, her arms around his shoulders, and their eyes locked on each other. He smiled kindly at her intense gaze.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He smirked mischievously. “I’m always nice to you.”
She snorted humorlessly in response. “I thought you never lied…” she then said, bitterness creeping in her soft voice.
He answered with a devilish smile, pulling her even closer, cheek to cheek. With his arms around her, he whispered in her ear, his tone surprisingly serious. “Believe me, Laura, I’ve been nice to you.”
They remained like this for the remainder of the song, cheek to cheek, in silence, until her eyes welled up with tears; she was unsure why. She hid her face in him, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Have you thought of running away?” he asked her softly in her ear.
“Yes…” she conceded, shamelessly, softly, her head still on his shoulder.
“Why didn’t you?”
She didn’t answer, he didn’t insist.
He caressed her back, the entire song, and the next as they remained locked in this embrace.
“What will happen to me?” she eventually asked him in a childlike voice, her face still hidden in the nook of his neck.
He didn’t answer, she didn’t insist.
***
That night Laura heard again the clicking of heels and felt her heart tighten. She didn’t cry.
Day-40
Laura was going through her room, from boredom, from a relentless feeling of anguish and a desire to belong, to know every corner of the only home she would ever have. A bedroom. She went through every drawer, every closet, pulled out all the clothes and put them back.
It was in a top drawer she found the picture. A beautiful brunette was smiling back at her, her hair curled up like they did back in the day, her hazel eyes vibrant, gleaming with mischief. Laura couldn’t stop looking at the picture, recognizing the familiar traits in them. Kayne’s mother. Who was she? What happened to her? What kind of woman gives birth to this kind of man? Was she like Mrs. Drugova, pragmatic and jaded? Like Olga, seeing goodness wherever she could find it? Or was she like herself, just seeking refuge in fantasy from a world she wasn’t armed to face? That night, she brought the picture with her, tucked into her back pocket, and went to meet Kayne for supper. She stopped, taken aback at finding his seat unusually empty, and looked at the time. She wasn’t early. She took her seat, her unease only increasing.
She was lost in thought when two big hands gently grabbed her shoulders. She jerked, stunned, hearing a gruff chuckle behind her, before the warm hands abandoned her. Kayne took his seat, smiling devilishly at her.
“What’s going on in that little head of yours?”
She just pulled out the picture, without saying a word, and handed it to him. He seemed curious at first, then his eyes instantly narrowed upon recognition.
“Where did you get this?”
“In my room...” she stammered, feeling her heartbeat quicken.
He looked at her, then back at the picture, his eyes hard.
“Is it… your mother?”
He didn’t respond right away, keeping his eyes fixed on the picture. “Yes.”
“You look like her…”
“I look nothing like her,” he snapped, his eyes lifting to meet Laura’s.
“Why are you upset?” she breathed, her eyes watering.
His eyes softened, though the darkness remained. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her, his tone still hard, and deposited the picture far away on the table, and out of sight.
“I don’t understand... Do you hate her?”
“Drop it,” he warned, his face menacing.
She squirmed in her seat. She couldn’t link such a violent reaction to the sweet face she had looked at all day.
“Let’s eat,” he said after a moment, his eyes still tempestuous. They ate in silence, Laura throwing cautious glances his way, looking back down every time her gaze landed on the pools of darkness staring back.
They finished their supper with the heavy silence still weighing on them. He then got up and went digging for something in his jacket. He came back to the kitchen, leaning back against the island counter, watching her, as she remained in her seat, unsure what to do. She looked so pitiful, fidgeting nervously in her chair, and that si
ght alone was enough to pacify his temper. “Come here.”
She looked up at him, as if assessing the situation. Apprehensively, she approached him, constantly gauging his reaction with each step that brought her closer. He waited patiently, arms crossed, his expression betraying his amusement as she embarked on the dangerous journey that led her to him.
When she finally got to him, he reached for her wrist and pulled her close. He could sense her maddened pulse and reveled in feeling her underlying panic. Poor Laura, he thought patronizingly, how wrong you are this time. He smiled inwardly, knowing she reacted exactly as he’d trained her to, always fearful, always on edge, always seeking to please. This behavior will be rewarded. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice low and raspy, her breathing hard.
He leaned into her ear, his expression playful. “Happy birthday.” She seemed confused at first, then closed her eyes as the fact dawned on her. She was turning twenty-four. It was her birthday. “Do you want me to open it?” she asked, still not reassured by his positive mood swing.
“It’s yours. Do what you want.” He smiled indulgently.
She opened the envelope wearily and found two tickets to The Swan Lake premiere from Les Grands Ballets Canadiens for the following evening. Her eyes were round with surprise.
“You’re taking me to The Swan Lake? How did you even know?” she gasped.
“Happy?” He smirked.
A tear clung to the corner of her eye. “Yes,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
They remained close, their eyes locked on each other. She felt lost in his eyes, in his presence, in his world. Adrift in this swirl of madness where he was the only thing left she could hold on to. She closed her eyes, cautiously raising herself on her toes, and closed the small distance separating them. Her lips barely grazed his, for the length of a second, her sweet lips tasted the saltiness of his. She felt her heart sink in her chest, just like the roller coasters when she was a child. She quickly pulled back and, avoiding his gaze, turned to walk away.
She felt his hand grab her arm from behind, slowly making her turn around and pulling her back to him. Her heart was racing, and she kept her eyes to the ground, feeling his piercing gaze on her.
He brought a hand to her shoulder, letting his fingers run the length of her arm; and feeling her shiver, he sighed. He pulled her into him and brought his mouth to her ear. His voice hoarse, he whispered, “Don’t play with fire, little girl.”
Her face flushed, she nervously nodded her head. Without ever looking at him, she rushed out of his embrace and away from him.
***
That night Kayne didn’t make any calls. His mind was fixated on his captive, on the soft kiss he could still feel on his lips as he ran his thumb over them. How could anything so sweet, so innocent turn him on to such an extent? He wondered. He’d wanted to take her, knew he could have, but pulled back, though he felt his desire reciprocated. He knew she didn’t want him to take her the way he wanted, though she would have let him. He wondered what stopped him. At the last second, he changed his mind, let her walk away. It was her birthday after all; she could have her sweet chaste kiss. He shrugged his shoulders, smiling to himself. Next time, there would be no mercy.
Day-41
All night Laura dreamed of the following evening. She barely got any sleep from excitement. The Swan Lake, not just any ballet, she was going to The Swan Lake. She wondered how he knew and remembered mentioning something vague about it to Olga. She had spent her childhood watching an old VHS tape her mother had left behind of the famous ballet. It was performed by a world-renowned Russian troupe at the time. She had danced in her living room imitating the graceful prima ballerina, albeit clumsily, more than once breaking things, landing her in the cage. None of it mattered now. She was going to watch it, in person. No more lines running through the screen against colors faded to different shades of grey. She had closed her eyes and smiled from the images playing in her head. A red carpet, a white limousine, cameras everywhere, Kayne and she would be greeted like royalty. All the women would envy her. Kayne wouldn’t even notice them, because she would look gorgeous, not cute and pretty. And Kayne would know it, seeing her for the woman she’d become, and he’d want her above all else. He would hold her by her hand, lead her inside. He would act protective of her as he always did, be in one of his lighthearted moods, constantly smiling at her in his indulgent way, caressing her cheeks, kissing her hand… She fell asleep, a smile plastered on her face.
She spent the day outside. It was a beautiful sunny day. It seemed as if the entire universe was conspiring with her, for once, on her side. She smiled, finally finishing The Kite Runner. It was a great novel, she wondered what took her so long to finish it. Another of Kayne’s gifts, she held it close to her heart, kissing the cover. She remembered kissing him the night before and blushed at the memory, though she couldn’t help smiling. She didn’t know what came over her, but she didn’t regret it. She remembered his warning and brushed it off as it fit so inconveniently with her immediate contentment. She would have let him take her, part of her wished he had. She wasn’t playing with fire; she depended on it. She could only survive off its warmth, off its sole source of light in never-ending obscurity. She would withstand its inevitable burns.
She got back to her room on light feet. Kayne had told her to be ready by six thirty. It was only four, but she wanted to take her time preparing, enjoying each step of the way. There was another gift-wrapped carton box on her bed, which by now had become very familiar. She rushed to the bed, her heart leaping with excitement.
Laura couldn’t help grinning dumbly and opened the box to find a black satin gown, as majestic as she pictured in her wildest fantasies.
At six thirty sharp, she entered the living room, almost expecting a corsage. Kayne was in a black suit, his back turned to her, he was looking out the window. She shyly cleared her throat, and he turned around, smiling at her. He walked to her, took her hand, and pulled it out, giving her the once-over.
“Beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She smiled brightly back at him, though she flushed, lowering her gaze with modesty.
“I can’t make it tonight,” he said softly.
“Oh…” Her heart tightened in her chest, she felt as though someone just kicked her in the ribs. She could still see the night in her mind as she had pictured it, the renegade images now coiling around her lungs, suffocating her.
“Something’s come up,” he explained, looking intently into her eyes, a certain melancholy creeping into his smile, though he would not apologize. “Lucas will take you.”
She tried to smile. She was still going. He only said he couldn’t. She wanted to say more and project breezy indifference, but the lump in her throat advised her to keep her answers very short. “Okay.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, his expression soft. “He’s waiting for you at the door.”
“Okay,” she barely managed to get out as she quickly turned from him to head for the door, her eyes threatening to betray her very shaky composure.
Kayne watched her leave. He was sorry, he had meant to go with her. But Tanya called. She had an update on the Maxwell situation, and that took precedence over anything else. He had maintained a good relationship with her or, more likely, used her weakness for him to his advantage. Though she never let him have her after that night, she made sure to remain in his entourage, always trying to remind him of what he lost, what he gave up. Dimitri had no qualms about sharing his whores, so Kayne had asked her to get close to Maxwell and report back to him. He didn’t trust him; there was something about the man. Maxwell, it seemed, was up to something. That didn’t surprise Kayne. What surprised him was how easily he played into Tanya’s hands, but she was good, you had to hand it to her. She even made you wonder who the whore was, with Maxwell following her around at gatherings like a lapdog. Kayne shook his head with disdain.
***
/> Lucas was dressed for the occasion. He smiled lightheartedly at Laura as he offered his arm and helped her into the car. The entire night, he was very attentive, constantly making sure she was okay and enjoying herself. He was refined, cultured, and very pleasant company, inspiring ease and well-being. She felt like she’d known him all her life, an old friend whose spot-on observations never failed to amuse her.
Finally over her initial deception, once the ballet started, she was submerged in the magic of the show. She realized what an unforgettable night it truly was. She felt safe with Lucas like she did with Kayne, though with Lucas, she didn’t feel the lingering menace that always kept her on edge around Kayne. It truly was a magical evening. She rushed to her feet at the end of the show to join the standing ovation, clapping away and tearing up with emotion.
When they returned home, she was still glowing, the euphoria lingering in her senses. She couldn’t go straight to bed, didn’t want to wait for tomorrow to tell Kayne all about it. She wished to thank him again, for quite possibly the best night in her miserable, short little life.
She ran into the kitchen and the living room, in and out excitedly, finding him nowhere. She shrugged her shoulders, defeated at last. He must still be out. She wondered what could have come up. Work obviously. Was he out interrogating someone this very instant, while she stood in the empty house looking for him in her black gown, still high off tutus, sorcerers, and spellbound princesses?
A shrill laughter pierced through the air and into Laura’s thoughts. Though having only heard it once, at the party, she could recognize this high-pitched voice anywhere. Her face dropped. Was he here, with Tanya? Is that why he couldn’t go with her? She almost wished he was out interrogating, whomever, she didn’t care.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she followed the echoes of the hated sound, passed the west wing corridor and into the reception hall, slowly lowering the handle of the right side double white door.
Kayne was sitting down on a massive couch, the top of his shirt unbuttoned, and his hair messy. A woman in a black thong and heels was kneeling on the floor between his legs. She was taking him in her mouth, her face hidden by her long curly black hair, as her head bobbed up and down sensually. There were glasses of alcohol and a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table near them. Tanya sat next to him on the couch, in a short tight black dress, her whole body turned toward him. Her legs slightly apart, caused the dress to lift even further up her thighs. Her hands were intertwined on his shoulder, her head resting on them. She was whispering in his ear, smiling devilishly as he smirked, looking straight ahead while his hand rested on her inner thigh with intimate familiarity.