A Bedtime Story

by L. C. Moon

  Slowly, he took a step to the right. She took a step left. He smirked, taking another step.

  Her heart raced, she pleaded again, “Please, Kayne, please.” She was weeping.

  He stared back at her, his eyes intense and yet kind. It made her heart melt. She felt weak in the knees. She wondered if she wanted him to catch her.

  He took another step.

  “Please… stay away…” Her voice jerked with emotion.

  He smirked and took another step.

  Frantic, she reached for the first weapon at her disposal and grabbed a butcher knife off the counter behind her. With shaky hands, she held it threateningly with her arms stretched out in front of her. “Stay away from me… I don’t want to hurt you,” she managed in between broken sobs.

  His smirk widened; he stepped closer and over to her side.

  She took a hesitant step backward. “Stay away… I’ll hurt you if I have to.”

  He just cocked his head to the side then closed the distance in one swift move. He grabbed her hands holding the knife and brought it to his throat. “Do it then,” he taunted her, a dark gleam in his eyes.

  He took the last remaining step, wrapping his free hand behind her back, and he pulled her to him. “Do it,” he dared, his voice husky in her ears.

  “Stop…” she wailed, as the point of the blade pierced his skin. “Stop… I’m hurting you…” she pleaded in torment, tears raining down her cheeks.

  He didn’t care. Ignoring the pain, he let go of her wrists and pulled his face closer to hers. When his lips were almost touching hers, he commanded, his voice gruff with desire, “Kiss me.”

  She didn’t kiss him; she let the knife drop to the floor instead and closed her eyes as tears continued to roll down her face and sobs escaped her lips.

  He took her into his mouth, forcing her lips open with his tongue. Her body didn’t resist the intrusion. She obeyed like a rag doll as he brought her arms around his neck and pulled her waist against his. He kissed her with the built-up hunger that had brewed in his blood for over two months. His wife, his favorite toy, his obsession.

  He wedged his knee between her thighs, forcing her legs apart, and felt her panting in his mouth. He broke the kiss to stare into her eyes. There was no conflict there, only unbearable pain. He recognized the sweet young girl he had met a lifetime ago in those tormented pleading eyes.

  “I… can’t…” she sobbed, each word uttered with seemingly enormous effort. “I can’t do this anymore...”

  She wasn’t crying hysterically. She looked him in the eye, defeated. It wasn’t a plea anymore. She was stating the truth she had accepted with calm finality. Kayne unconsciously responded by loosening his grip, though his eyes remained locked on hers. “I can’t... I have nothing left. You’ve taken it all. I have nothing… Nothing...” she repeated in a soft though resolute voice. Emptiness replaced the pain as bitterness crept in her voice. “I look at myself in the mirror… . I don’t recognize that girl. I hate that girl… And I have to live with it. Every day. You will never hurt me more than I’ve already hurt myself. Punish me if you have to… I won’t fight you.”

  The iciness in her words traveled through the air, rendering the room a frozen wasteland, and like an arrow, right into him, paralyzing him.

  It took him a few seconds to snap out of the hypothermia engulfing him. He stared at her blankly. Her words still echoed in every corner of his mind, making their way through his whole body, like venom seeping into his veins. His expression was unreadable as he let go of his grip completely, turned around, and exited the room.

  How long she stayed by herself staring at the abandoned knife on the floor, she didn’t know. She went back to her room, took off her sophisticated makeup, and for the first time in a very long time, pulled out the grey yoga pants and purple hoodie that used to be her daily uniform.

  She curled into a ball and cried without restraint into her pillows. In that moment, crying shamelessly in her beloved attire, she almost felt like her old self again. She smiled through the watery curtain on her face. She missed her. Scared, awkward, clumsy little Laura, she missed her so much. She missed seeing the world through her eyes, loving Kayne with her devoted innocence. Laura Malkin had brought her the strength to survive Kayne; only Laura Spencer allowed her the frailty to be with him.

  She was cried out. She continued to rub her already puffed-up red eyes and stared at the ceiling as the idea rooted itself in her mind. She could not, would not fall asleep on her own, knowing he was but a staircase away. She would find neutral ground where they could both meet. She would conjure it from willpower alone if she had to.

  Tiptoeing up the stairs, Laura couldn’t help but think back to another story Olga had told her. It was the story of two porcupines in love. They got lost in the middle of the coldest winter night and could not find refuge. All night they suffered. When they remained too far from each other, the claws of the cold ripped through them. When they sought warmth by each other’s sides, their own spines pierced and bled them. All night they bled and froze, constantly adjusting and readjusting. By the crack of dawn, a little girl found two porcupines asleep peacefully, close enough to ward off the cold, far enough not to hurt one another.

  Upon reaching his bedroom door, Laura took a few long breaths to calm her trepid heart. Her knocks were so subtle, she hoped they wouldn’t be heard. She wondered if she would find her beautiful monster asleep and nonthreatening or awake and on his guard. She didn’t wait for her courage to leave and softly pushed the door open.

  Kayne was sitting up on his bed, his back against the headboard, one leg bent up, the other flat on the mattress. His hair was loose and tucked behind his ear; he looked dangerously calm and nonchalant in his undershirt and khaki cargo shorts. Once again, he reminded her of a lion or tiger, licking his paws peacefully before he bared his claws for the kill.

  She froze at the door.

  He didn’t move a muscle. Only his eyes turned to her, his face showing no reaction. Cautiously, she took a step in. His eyes were glued to her, following her every move with animalistic curiosity, yet his body remained lax.

  She took another step toward the bed, her eyes returning the intensity of his gaze, though hers conveyed the turmoil raging within. She stopped at the foot of the bed, a tentative coy smile taking shape on her features. She played with the hem of her pants and hesitantly reached for the bottom of her hoodie then moved back to her pants, awaiting the instructions she hoped to get.

  He understood her, he understood her brain process. He would take the olive branch she offered. His beautiful Laura, she had somehow brought her back and would sacrifice her at the altar, as a peace offering.

  He remembered the first instruction he had given her, the reaction it provoked. The wetness on her face contrasting the one betraying her at obeying his command. Take off your clothes, Laura.

  He wanted nothing more than to utter the command and wash away the bitterness of her earlier words, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to. In this moment, the jaded lover overpowered the insatiable sadist. For the first time, he felt tired. For the first time, Kayne lived in a world that didn’t bend to his will and laughed openly at his bare wounds. To a Malkin, the only response was to laugh even louder and cut off the wounded limb.

  Faced with his vindictive silence, Laura exhaled and pushed the limits that had long been broken. She met his gaze, with determination, and removed her pants. She took her time, making sure to sway her hips left and right as she wiggled them off her legs.

  By the time she lifted her head to meet his, she was not fooled by his cool composure. Something wickedly promising was already taking shape in his eyes as he shook his head in disapproval.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” he spat at her with a disdainful smirk, his voice still carrying the bitterness he had willed into condescension.

  Laura shut her eyes. When she reopened them, they still carried the entrenched heartbreak he had seen earlier. The sadness in th
em, however, was unlike the cold surrender that inhabited them in the kitchen; those eyes suffered, were willing to suffer, and dared to hope.

  “No.” Her voice was soft as she held his stare with pure eyes. They contained no remorse or regret, no blame or rancor. It was not a negotiation or an act of juvenile defiance. It was just Laura, with all her walls down, still standing.

  He stared her down, making her heart race, but she didn’t look down. She remained standing tall as Kayne snapped to his feet and planted himself right in front of her. He could sense her fear and, like a dog responded with heightened senses, every nerve tingling with arousal. A desperate dog howled inside of him, reached with all its might toward his loving mistress. To him, there were no past scars, no dead ends waiting, only a beloved body within reach and the promise of a touch long yearned for. His pained howl was heard, awakening the beast that was asleep. Kayne narrowed his eyes, he would not surrender to the abyss of pleasure calling out to him. This would be his biggest punishment to her yet. Nothing. Rejection, it was cancer to a man’s soul, death, to a woman’s.

  He exhaled deeply, studying her face, her controlled breathing, her terrified eyes holding his gaze. How he loved her in this moment.

  “Get out, Laura… before I make you,” he whispered close to her cheek, his voice, an animalistic growl, warning and seductive.

  She didn’t even blink. “If that’s your order, I will leave. But you will never see me again, and you know I would never dare lie to you.” She avowed her own warning through gritted teeth.

  Kayne smirked. Ultimatums, always a bad idea. What did she think would happen? That she would pull a knife on him, then meet him in his room and have him fall at her feet? That the mere mention of her leaving would tear his world apart? It did. That point, he conceded. What she failed to realize, however, was that he would tear his world, his own body apart with his bare hands before ever laying it at anyone’s feet.

  He would not stop her. For the first time, Kayne wished she would lie to him. He remained silent, daring her to walk out with his eyes, supplicating her not to from his very core.

  She waited, pushed her ill-fated faith for as long as she could. She could sense the conflict in him. Once more, believed in her Kayne, willing him silently to reach for her, to utter anything, just make a sound, and she would stay.

  Her response came only from silence’s deafening buzz in her ears. She lifted her chin, already held high, with dignity and understanding. She lowered her head, somewhere between a nod and a bow out. She turned around and lifted her pants, slowly. She had no tears to fight back, no sorrow to hide from her tormentor. She had come full circle. She could see the injury, acknowledge the frightening gash oozing blood out, and yet felt nothing. Death. It was not the end, it was liberation. An unwholesome smile tainted her face as she walked out of the room regal-like.

  Kayne fell back on his mattress and watched her leave in disbelief. Minutes turned to hours as Kayne remained immobile in his bedroom, looking out his glass wall pointlessly. He waited for her return. The waning moon in the dark skies retreated under his very eyes, mourning Laura’s departure.

  Ominous clouds claimed the sky. In the humid night, a lightning flash illuminated Kayne’s room, while tropical-like rain ensued, big drops banging violently against the glass. He felt release at the fury unleashed around him. For a moment too quick to truly grasp, he lost himself in the sweet folly of Mother Nature. It seemed to him, she held her arms out, cried the tears he’d never be able to shed.

  By the time thunder boomed in the electric sky, Kayne had already banished the grief-stricken boy. His harsh facial features spoke of cool self-control and unbreakable determination. He had made a promise, with this promise alone had taken the life of Peter Spencer. He would keep Laura safe.

  He rushed to the office, calling Lucas for assistance.

  “Where is she?” Kayne’s voice was harsh. He remembered the last time he tracked her. His heart beat at the thought of finding her hurt, or worse, safe and sound, in the arms of another man.

  “I don’t know… it’s weird.” Lucas seemed perplexed. “She’s… in the middle of nowhere.”

  Conflicting emotions strained his features, no other man… no safety either. “WHERE is she?” he hissed.

  Lucas shook his head, concerned himself. “She’s… in the woods.” In the middle of a thunderstorm, it was the single worst place she could be, and he had pushed her there. He ground his teeth with sheer wrath. He couldn’t let his mind run away with the sinister scenarios already playing in the back of his head.

  “Keep tracking, I’m going after her.”

  Lucas nodded, his face grave as he watched his boss storm out into the tempestuous night.

  ***

  Laura had been walking pointlessly for hours. She was dripping wet, her teeth chattering from cold. She had strayed off the beaten path, had refused to meet the civilized world it led to. She was no longer part of it. She was no longer part of anything. Once she had been a sister, it had defined her identity, her very reason for being. That was taken from her. Then she became a prisoner, had even willingly played her part. She had remolded her entire being to survive her new cage, forsaken all for her jailor. Then the jailor gave her up.

  She didn’t feel human anymore. She was a wounded animal, instinctively returning to the wilderness. Crouching on the earth, with a dripping hoodie over her head hiding half her face, she let her tears mix with the rain. She hugged her knees and rocked herself, just as she had as a kid. As a young girl, her worst fear had been to be locked in the cage like an animal. Alone, hurt, cold, and scared, she realized there was worse: to be set free.

  Hours passed, she longed to see her brother again, wondered if he’d be waiting for her when freedom finally came. Wondered if he’d ever forgive her. She thought of Kayne. She recounted their story to herself, her eyes closed. She pictured a young Laura listening enraptured, sometimes terrified, somewhat hypnotized by the twisted tale that would become her life. A serene smile softened her features; she wouldn’t change a thing. Not all fairy tales were meant to end well. She felt the cold penetrating her clothes, her body, down to her bones. She didn’t fight the slumber that had already invaded her limbs. As she drifted to the realm of the wise and silent, she wondered if Kayne would ever find her, if his kiss held the sorcery to wake her.

  ***

  Kayne had abandoned the Audi on the side of the road. With Lucas on the phone directing him, he made his way into the foreboding woods. He could barely hear him under the vehement thunder. He called out to her, screaming her name repeatedly as he beat away the sinister-looking branches blocking his path. In the dark of the night, the beast helplessly sought his redemption.

  ***

  It seemed as if it came from another world. She tried to ignore the sound, the incessant call pushing away the peaceful shore awaiting her. She thought she recognized her name, saw the glow retreat back into the void, felt the warmth dissipate. She heard her name, louder and louder, closer and closer, recognized the strained voice that had brought her back.

  By the time she blinked her eyes awake, she felt the warmth of his hand against her cheek, could see the beloved features facing hers. He seemed tired, his face was dripping, his hair unruly. He looked wild, scary, and comforting at the same time. Her Kayne, he was there, his eyes boring into hers.

  “How did you find me?” She was still dazed, struggling to force a sound out of her hibernating body.

  He lowered his head, bringing their foreheads together. He exhaled deeply as relief softened his features.

  “Oh, Laura…” His smile was brittle as he reached for her sleeve and crooked the bracelet with his finger.

  “I don’t understand…” Her voice was soft. She feared she was dreaming.

  He turned the bracelet around, showing her the engraving. “For as long as I’m your Monster, I will always find you.”

  He brought her to her feet, removed his jacket, and draped it around her sho
ulders.

  “Let’s go home.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply took her hand and started walking away. The little hand slipped away, and he turned around to find Laura standing still.

  “Laura. We have to go,” he commanded irritated, apprehension in his voice as he looked to the angry skies.

  She shook her head. She looked at him and felt the strings on her limbs pull her to him. Never had a man or beast looked so terrifyingly beautiful. She knew this for certain as she watched his wet shirt cling to his body, his eyes glowing with emotion, his clenched jaw warning of its deadly bite. She didn’t want to return to the ivory tower. She would cast away its safety and solitude, would rather perish in the dark forest, devoured by her beast.

  “We’re going to die out here! Is this what you want?” he yelled, his eyes narrow.

  “YES!” Her scream was long and pained.

  Looking at her face, he knew not all the drops came from the rain. His body relaxed, he considered her for a moment. “So be it,” he said with finality.

  His walk determined, he took the few steps leading him back to her and, in one fluid movement, grabbed hold of her.

  He captured her in his arms, his elusive prey. His lips met hers with ferocious lust. The world growled around them, lightning illuminated the sky. He didn’t care. Their story had claimed too much blood. The Monster and his captive, their happy ending awaited them in the underworld. Side by side, they would laugh at the all the happily ever afters agonizing in the routine of the mundane.

  He lowered her to the ground and pulled her wet clothes off as she struggled to rip off his shirt. He left the bundled hoodie around her wrists and held her down with one hand, while the other pulled her pants down to her knees. He unzipped his jeans, didn’t take the time to tease and seduce. This fuck wasn’t for her. It was a selfish fuck, meant to appease his own desperate needs. He took her savagely on the ground, sliding himself in and out roughly, though he found her entrance wet and ready, her body willing, intuitively opening up to its true master.