Neighbors (Twin Estates #1)

by Stylo Fantome

  “Running late?”

  Katya lifted her head to find a little old lady smiling at her. She stood upright and tucked her clutch purse under her arm.

  “No, just running,” she chuckled, smoothing her hands over her hair, hoping it hadn't fallen loose.

  She didn't even know what direction she was headed in, where all the train went. She stared up at a map, listened to the stops as they were called out. She rode for a while, letting the rolling motion calm her down. She leaned against a pole and even closed her eyes for a bit, just trying not to feel.

  She finally got off in a neighborhood she'd never been to – she'd started to feel motion sick and had to get fresh air.

  It was almost ten o'clock at night. She couldn't believe it, she'd been riding the train for almost an hour. There weren't any people around, which made her happy. It looked like it might even start raining again, which made her even happier. Something to drown her sorrows.

  The next time she looked at her phone, it was after ten-thirty. She was pretty sure she was lost and she wondered if she should order an Uber. The neighborhood she'd wound up in was upscale, nice. While she was thumbing through her phone, debating whether or not she should order a ride, she wound up in a park of sorts. A long, oblong grassy space, with Roman-esque columns at one end, and a huge fountain at the other. Across the fountain was a concert hall of sorts, and music was floating out of it. Some sort of orchestral music. She smiled and made her way down to the water.

  She took off her shoes, leaving them and her purse on the ground as she stepped over the cement lip of the ornate fountain. The water was cool, almost reaching her knees. She held onto her skirt and stared at the sprays of water, desperately trying to clear her head.

  What had happened? Just over a month ago, her life had been so predictable. She got up, she got dressed in her plain but nice clothing, she went to work. She made cakes for people. Then she went home. Made dinner for her and Tori. Worked on designs. Then cleaned up and went to bed.

  Sure it was boring, but was that so bad? One moment. One conversation with Tori, and it was suddenly like boring was the worst thing ever. Join the Eros dating site! Make a profile! It'll be great!

  She'd gotten so wrapped up in pretending to be some fake profile, she'd forgotten that's not who she was – Katya was a little boring. Sweet and nice and a cake baker. And there was nothing wrong with that. She didn't need men to validate her existence. Not Wulf, and though she appreciated him, not Liam either.

  She'd had her little adventure. Gone from sexual novice to sleeping with two men at once. From missionary position to anal sex. She was proud of herself, proud of the leaps and bounds she'd made. But maybe it was time to say goodbye to new-Katya, finally. She'd only brought heartache. At least old-Katya had never gotten as hurt. Of course not – old-Katya played by the rules, how could she have possibly ever gotten hurt?

  Sure, you got hurt, but there were some pretty pleasurable moments, too. And some downright beautiful moments. Words said and hearts touched. It wasn't all bad.

  Nope. Most of it had been great, really. It had just ended badly. She sniffled and held back tears as she waded to the edge of the fountain. Ended so badly. She climbed onto the ledge, then turned back to face the fountain one more time. There was applause coming from the hall across the street, the show was ending. The night was over.

  Take a bow, call it good, and gain some control over your life.

  She took a deep breath, finally ready to do just that. She was on her toes, gingerly turning around, when a voice came out of the darkness behind her.

  “What in the fuck are you doing down here?”

  She actually shrieked, she was so startled. She also jerked her head up, which caused her to lose her balance. She windmilled her arms, attempted to tap dance her way back to standing upright, but in the end, gravity won. She screamed again as she fell backwards, landing hard on her ass inside the fountain. Freezing cold water was surrounding her, her dress becoming a second skin as it was instantly soaked. She gagged and choked on water, coughing while she cleared her eyes.

  “You're joking,” she gasped when she could finally see again.

  Wulf was standing at the edge of the fountain. A street lamp was directly behind him, outlining him in shiny white light. He looked like a dream.

  More like a night terror.

  “Did you come looking for me?” he asked.

  Katya was immediately enraged and she climbed to her feet, smacking away the helping hand he offered.

  “How the fuck would I know you'd be here!?” she growled at him, wading towards the edge. He offered a hand once more, and again, she slapped it away. She tried to march to the right, to get away from him, but he just followed.

  “Because I live down here,” he finally answered her. She stopped moving for a moment and gaped at him.

  “You do not,” she breathed.

  “I so do. My apartment is about a mile from this park, I walk down here almost every night.”

  “Well, I …” she stuttered for a second, then started stomping in the opposite direction. “I didn't know that, did I? I never went to your apartment.”

  “Awfully coincidental, Tocci,” he teased her, matching her step for step.

  “Do not talk to me in that tone of voice,” she hissed, her teeth starting to chatter.

  “What tone? You're going to get frost bite, let me help you,” he insisted, grabbing her by the elbow.

  “Don't you fucking touch me!”

  She had shrieked at him, but still he pulled. It was almost a wrestling match, getting her out of the fountain. The moment her feet touched the ground, she yanked away from him, almost stumbling in her haste to get away.

  “If you touch me again, so help me god, I will start screaming so loud, and I won't stop until you're arrested,” she threatened him.

  “Kinky.”

  “And don't fucking flirt with me!” she yelled, shoving him in the chest.

  “Oh, I can't touch you, but you can touch me?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “It's okay, I don't mind. You can -”

  “No,” Katya suddenly held up her hand, stopping him. “I'm not doing this. Goodbye, Wulfric.”

  She stepped around him and hurried to her belongings, collecting them in her arms. She barely made it two steps before he was next to her again.

  “Katya, wait. I was caught off guard by seeing you. I'm sorry.”

  She was completely shocked.

  Wulf. Apologizing.

  “I'm surprised you even know that word,” she sneered. He pulled her to a stop.

  “It's a surprise to me, too. Look, can we cut the theatrics? I was going to call you, but jesus, fuck, what could I say? After all the shit that went down,” he told her. “I needed some time. I said that even, I needed space. If you had respected me at all, you would've given it to me.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Respect you? Is this a joke? And if you wanted space, you should've asked for it. I'm a pretty generous person, I would've given it to you. But I wasn't asked. I wasn't consulted. There was no discussion. You disregarded me, you ignored me, and then you hurt me. Where the fuck was my respect?” she demanded.

  “It was bad. I admit it.”

  “Was the way you treated me respectful? Were the things you said respectful? No, they weren't. You purposefully tried to disrespect me. You tried to make me look low, you tried to embarrass me, and then you tried to hurt me. On purpose. Maliciously. You hurt me.”

  He winced at that comment, and for a moment – just a moment – Katya wondered if she could get blood from a stone. Then he opened his mouth and she remembered who she was dealing with.

  “I wasn't the only one trying to be hurtful – you were in that room, too. You fucked up, too.”

  “Are you fucking joking!? You want to keep a score card on who was a bigger fuck up that day? Let me clue you into something, Wulf – I could've pissed on that floor, and I still wouldn't
have fucked up as bad as you,” she called him out.

  “I'm not keeping score. I was just angry. I'm still angry. This is ridiculous, we're shouting in the street. Let's go back to my place, and we can -”

  “You're a riot tonight!” she burst out laughing. “Go back to your place? To YOUR place? It's funny, you know, because for weeks I wanted to see your place. See where Wulfric Stone laid his head at night. Now I couldn't give a fuck. Get out of my way.”

  She again went to storm past him, but Wulf was having none of it. He stepped directly in her path, forcing her to walk into his chest. When she glared up at him, it was to see that he was every bit as angry as her.

  “I'm fucking talking, so that means you fucking listen,” he informed her. She barked out a laugh.

  “See! There's that humor I -”

  She ended on a squeak when he grabbed her upper arm. His grip was painful as he started dragging her down a cement walkway. She was forced to walk on her tiptoes, still in her bare feet.

  “You know what your problem is, Tocci?” he said as they walked. “You don't pay attention. I'm fucking trying to say something – hell, the universe is trying to say something by bringing us both here tonight – and you're not fucking paying attention.”

  “I don't remember signing up for a lecture tonight. Take your hand off me, you have no right to touch me.”

  “Your body belongs to me more than it ever did to you.”

  Enough is enough.

  Katya ripped free of his grasp, stumbling away as she did so. She clutched her purse and shoes to her chest, using them as a shield to protect herself from him. To protect her heart.

  “Don't say things you don't know to be fact,” she hissed.

  “Oh, I know it's fact – I don't care what some other guy says to you, or whatever special kind of date he took you on tonight, or if he fucks you eighty different kinds of ways. Doesn't change who you belong to.”

  “It's very cute that you think you have some ownership of me,” she sighed, bending down to put on her shoes.

  “I don't think it, I know it.”

  On the other side of the park, there was a commotion. She lifted her head and watched as the doors to the music hall opened up. The concert was over, the attendees were leaving. People spilled out onto the sidewalks, going to their cars, walking down the road. Heading into the park. She and Wulf were about to have a decent little audience for their tête-à-tête.

  “We're done here. We were done over a week ago. Goodbye, Wulf,” she said, standing up straight and trying not to shiver in her soaking wet dress.

  “You are not going home like that – you look like your naked,” he growled, then shocked her when he began unbuttoning his shirt. She glanced down at herself. The sheer material of the dress only had a muslin backing. He wasn't lying, the wet color and sheerness of the fabric did have her looking pretty scandalous.

  “I'm hardly naked,” she said, watching as he shrugged out of his expensive dress shirt and held it out to her.

  “Close enough. Put this on.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  It was another wrestling match, him fighting to get her arms into the sleeves, her pushing and pulling at him. When he succeeded in getting the right sleeve on, she finally gave up. She gave him a hard shove in the chest and slipped into the left sleeve.

  “You're being ridiculous.”

  “And you're being an idiot, trying to walk around like that.”

  “Well, that's my problem, not yours.”

  “I have a big fucking problem with people seeing you like this.”

  “Oh, do you? Do you, really? Well, I would hate to be a problem for you, Wulf! I would hate to be a burden on your conscience in any way!” she said in mock shock, then she whirled around and began striding towards a group of people that were heading their way. She barely made it ten feet before his hands were on her hips, twisting her to face him.

  “Burden is an appropriate word for you,” he said through gritted teeth as they struggled with each other. “Just come back to my place, I can call you a fucking taxi from there.”

  “Oh, good. I should be getting home anyway – I apparently need to get fucked eighty different ways,” she snapped, slapping at his hands.

  “That is not going to happen, so you can fuck right off with that plan.”

  “Why not? I mean, you said it, right? 'Little Katya Tocci needs to get fucked' – right? Your words. Right? So that's what I'm going to do, I'm gonna go get fucked, so you can just fuck right off, and get the fuck out of my life, you stupid massive fucking fuck! I fucking -”

  Katya was very aware that she was losing her marbles. They were possibly already gone. Wulf was probably using them to play his mind games on her. She was screaming and shouting, hitting him in the arms with her clutch. She could hear his mean, nasty words in her head, hear the hurtful tone in his voice. She wanted to cause him pain, wanted him to feel a tenth of what she was feeling.

  Before she could inflict any real damage, though, Wulf declared full on war. He bent over and before she knew what was happening, his arms were around her waist and she was being picked up. She let out a shot as she came down hard on his shoulder, then he stood upright. He hoisted her into place, then locked an arm around her hips before he strode off down the walkway.

  “Fuck, burden isn't a big enough word for you. You're a goddamn pain in my ass, Tocci,” he bit out through gritted teeth.

  She was completely shocked. He'd picked her up. He was … he was carrying her away. He was stealing her, right in the middle of their fight. She propped herself up as much as she could and started hitting him in the back with her purse.

  “What do you think you're doing!? Put me down, Wulf. Put me down, right now,” she demanded.

  “No.”

  “I wasn't asking, Wulfric.”

  “No.”

  “I swear to god, I really will start screaming.”

  “Go ahead. I'm not putting you down until we get to my apartment.”

  “I don't want to go to your apartment.”

  “Tough. You're running around practically naked.”

  “I don't care.”

  “I do. I'm done sharing this body with anyone else. No one gets to see you like this but me.”

  Katya was stunned into silence. It was gruff and it was rude – he was being a complete barbarian. But in his own awful Wulfric way, he'd just made a huge admission. He was done sharing her? No one else could see her like that? A hell of a statement, coming from him.

  “Wulf, put me down,” she said in a low voice.

  “Katya, I'm fucking tired, I'm letting you ruin my fucking five hundred dollar shirt, and on top of all that, I have a huge fucking meeting at eight in the morning, but this is not over. So shut the fuck up, or so help me god, I will shut you up.”

  Good god, he sounded pissed. It sent a shiver down her spine and for a couple minutes, she held still. Allowed herself to be carried around like a rag doll.

  “I can walk, Wulf. People are going to think you're kidnapping me.”

  “That's what I'm going to do, if it means you'll shut up for five fucking seconds and let me talk.”

  “I'll let you talk. I'll do whatever you want, just let me walk on my own.”

  He put her down so abruptly, she yelped and started to fall over. Before she could completely tumble, though, he was grabbing her wrist and continuing on his war path. She was dragged along in his wake, almost jogging in order to keep up with him.

  She couldn't be sure how far Wulf's home really was from the fountain – he'd carried her quite a ways and she hadn't been paying attention. Their almost-jog went on for a while, easily five minutes in silence. Half a mile? More? It seemed like an eternity. A shivering, wet, cold, awkward eternity.

  They rounded a corner and she was met with an impressive, modern looking apartment building. It was a high rise, all gleaming windows and sharp corners. Intimidating – not at all like the simple, inviting building she lived i
n, with its seven stories and classic San Francisco facade.

  Wulf had to use a key card to get in the building, then again to access the elevator. By the time they were rising up the length of the building, Katya was shivering, her arms wrapped around herself. She would never admit it to him, but she really did need to get out of her dress. Riding home in her state would have been awful.

  Of course he lived in the penthouse, she wasn't surprised one bit when he hit that button. She was surprised, however, when there was a ding and the elevator came to a stop a good ten floors below the one he lived on. Katya clutched her bag to her chest, then folded her arms, hoping she didn't look too frightening to whoever was about to join them.

  She didn't have to worry, though. As the doors slid open, Wulf calmly turned and stood directly in front of her. So close, she almost went cross eyed staring at the neckline of his undershirt. She took a deep breath and felt her shivering crank up a notch. His arm came around her, and it felt like the bottom fell out from under her feet. It took her a second to realize it was the lift moving again.

  They stopped two floors shy of their destination, and their guest got off. Then they rode the rest of the way up, still pressed against each other. It was surreal. She was scared to even breathe, lest it would wake her up from whatever dream she was having. When they came to their final stop, Wulf pulled away and walked off without her. She took the opportunity to remember how to breathe, then she followed after him.

  The entire floor was his – all one big apartment. Absolutely spectacular views, all the way around the penthouse. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded them, showing everything San Francisco had to offer. It was awe-inspiring.

  The rest of the apartment was amazing, as well. Black marble floors, brand new appliances, polished concrete counter tops. Lots of shiny dark surfaces, lots of brushed steel. Beautiful, really. A marvel of modern architecture.

  She noticed something else, though, right away. It had the exact same feeling as his office. There wasn't one single personal touch anywhere. Not a picture of his family or friends, no knick knacks, no plants even. She was willing to bet a designer had picked out every single thing in his apartment, from his hampers to the art on the walls to his flatware. Nothing of himself was in that place, there was nothing to indicate a human being lived full time in the apartment.