by Kitty Thomas
“You have to get off this couch and put something else on besides a bathrobe.”
“No, I don’t. The clients don’t know the fucking difference,” Annette said. She’d been taking calls like this. She could barely stomach the work anymore because all the pretty lies she told didn’t feel pretty anymore. They only made her miss having something real. It wasn’t easy money anymore. Somehow the whole thing felt gross and degrading.
It was absurd to her that she should feel that way about phone calls and fantasy when she hadn’t felt it with Anton and all the real life debauchery he’d subjected her to.
“Annie!” her sister shouted.
“What? I’m right here!”
“No. You aren’t. It’s been six weeks. I’m worried. Maybe you should talk to someone.”
“Hell, no.” She wasn’t going to sit on some therapist’s couch and discuss how somehow her every longing and desire now revolved around whips and chains and slavery.
“Maybe we should call the police. He’s got to pay for what he’s done to you.”
“No! It wasn’t him. If you call, I promise I will never speak to you again.”
“Well you have to fucking talk to me! I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
This was serious. Janette almost never cursed. It wasn’t in her makeup. She was the sweet one, the one birds and butterflies followed around whenever she stepped outside.
And yet… Annette couldn’t be bothered. What if she just showed up back at the house? Would he take her back still? He’d probably moved on.
57
“Are you just going to let your spa go to hell?” Gabe asked from the doorway.
Anton looked up from the desk in his room and shrugged and poured another shot of vodka. “Fuck it.”
He’d left one of the other massage therapists in charge at Dome. He was too busy losing himself inside the bottle to give a shit about it. Besides, it was in the city. It was close enough to Annette that if he let himself go there, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t bring her back with him. And then what? She hated him. He’d been arrogant and so sure she would never try to leave him.
And now they both knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill her or her sister. He’d fantasized more times than he cared to admit about just taking her. Why hadn’t he done it when he was there before?
The truth was that he’d grown to feel something that would no longer allow him to keep her if she didn’t want to be there. It would hurt too much to watch her hate him more every day. Even if he could break her mind... Even if he could train her so well she eventually forgot she hated him, it would linger somewhere in her eyes, and he just... couldn’t.
He looked up again to find Gabe still standing in the doorway. “Are you still here? Why don’t you go away?”
“Someone is here to see you down in the lobby,” Gabe said, sounding exasperated.
“Who?”
“Just come down. And try not to look like such a sloppy drunk.”
When Anton reached the lobby, she was there. Long, beautiful blonde hair. Smooth, light golden tan. He descended the stairs in a kind of dream state.
“Kiska?”
“You really still can’t tell us apart?”
Oh. The other one. Dammit. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re as fucked up as she is,” Janette said.
“You are awfully brave,” Anton slurred. “Maybe you are a freaky little slut like your sister. Maybe we could find out. I could take the consolation prize.”
Her face blanched, and immediately he regretted it. She looked too much like her sister.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. It’s the vodka.”
Janette sighed. “I must be crazy, but you have to come get her. You need to sober up and come get her.”
Anton’s brain wasn’t properly processing words. Was this even happening? Maybe he was passed out drunk. Maybe he was having another dream. Suddenly she was standing right in front of him, snapping her fingers in his face. He kept forgetting she wasn’t Annette… kept wanting to reach out and touch her hair.
“Did you hear me? She’s a mess. Almost as bad as you. I’ve never seen her like this over a man before.”
“Would you please wait in the office?” Gabe said. Suddenly he was striding across the floor and leading Janette down the hall to Lindsay’s office.
Anton just stood there like a drunken idiot. This was why he never let himself drink this much. He knew he was being pathetic and weak. He should have fucking taken her if he was going to devolve into… this. This was worse than the visit with the knife.
“Come with me,” Gabe said.
“You look funny, mad,” Anton said.
Gabe didn’t reply, he just guided him back to the industrial kitchen and sat him down on a stool.
Phyllis put a plate of sausage, eggs, and toast in front of him and a big cup of coffee.
“You need some coffee and something on your stomach. You need to sober the Hell up now. We are all over your fainting princess routine. Get your shit together, and you can still save this,” Gabe said.
Anton was already forgetting what was going on. He thought Janette was here and she said some stuff but he couldn’t remember now.
“Was Janette here?” That couldn’t be right.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Yes! She is here waiting for you to sober up. Eat!”
Why was Janette here? God, he was so fucked up. But he shoveled in the protein and then the bread and drank the coffee down. By the time he was done, he felt semi-rational and normal again.
“Now go take a shower and clean yourself up. Janette is waiting for you in Lindsay’s office.”
Twenty minutes later, Anton was showered and shaved and wearing a suit because it somehow seemed appropriate. He needed to feel like a human being again.
Janette was sitting quietly in the office when he reached her. So strange. This was the room where she’d snuck to call her sister that first night. This was Lindsay’s office where he kept copies of all his patient records.
Anton sat in the leather swivel chair behind the desk.
“You need to come get her,” Janette said.
Anton had the vaguest memory of her already saying this, but now that she was saying it again, it seemed even more impossible.
“What do you mean I need to come get her? Why on earth would you want the monster who kept your sister as a slave to come do it again?”
Janette sighed. “I don’t pretend to understand this sick thing you’ve developed with my sister, but I have never seen her like this. She’s broken. I wish I could believe she’ll get over it and return to her old self, but I’m not sure she will. And she’s refused to talk about it, so I don’t even know what happened.”
“Maybe I don’t want her back.”
Janette rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. “Sure, that’s why you looked like a mountain man with that scruffy beard when I got here, because you’re so happy.”
“Just fuck off back to the city with your sister,” Anton said, wishing he had another bottle of vodka in easy reach.
“Are you going to come get her?”
“She wouldn’t come with me. She made it clear when I showed up at the apartment.”
“She will. Come tonight at eight for dinner. And don’t be drunk.”
He didn’t enjoy being ordered around, particularly not by a woman who looked exactly like the woman he’d believed was his, but he only nodded and watched as she got up to leave. He would never understand these two women or how now both of them seemed quite content to walk into the belly of the beast for the sake of the other.
“Get off the couch,” Janette said as the apartment door slammed behind her. Annette heard thuds on the counter. Her sister must have picked up some groceries. Good, they were down to toaster pastries with fake frosting and a can of green beans that had been in the pantry so long it was possibly growing something deadly inside.
“Fuck you,” Annette
said, snuggling deeper into the thick blanket she’d wrapped around herself. It wasn’t especially cold outside, but she’d turned the AC on high just so she could wear fuzzy socks and raid the linen closet for something thick and warm to wrap herself in.
Janette ripped the blanket off her, dumping her unceremoniously onto the floor.
“I said get up.”
Annette stood and rubbed her hip where she’d hit the ground. “Ouch. Goddammit! You don’t have to be such a bitch.”
She was answered with an eye roll.
“I’m up,” Annette said.
“Good. Go shower and put on a nice dress and some makeup.”
“Why?”
“I’ve invited someone for dinner.”
Oh, God. If this was a setup… It was the last thing she needed or wanted. She couldn’t even think about trying to date a man right now. How would that even go? He’d be trying to be romantic and she’d be fantasizing about him chaining her up in his basement. Then he’d want to make sweet romantic love to her, and it would be her previous boring sexual history before Anton all over again. Just thinking about a man inside her fucking her in the most boring way possible made her want to empty the contents of her stomach. In hind sight, it was amazing she’d ever thought she wasn’t kinky. Obviously, there had been something wired up differently in her brain.
“Who’s coming?” she asked, trying not to let her mind trip down roads she couldn’t see herself going down again with someone else.
“Your Russian.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“But… how?”
“I went to see him. I’ve given up caring about how evil he may or may not be. Watching you fall apart the past six weeks… I wouldn’t wish that kind of misery on my worst enemy let alone my own sister. You went to him to save me, so I went to him to save you. Now we’re even.”
Annette just stared at her sister. There was no way she could go with Anton. Nothing had been resolved. She couldn’t live in that fucking house with Brian.
Janette interrupted her mental stubbornness. “I’m making spaghetti, the kind you like with sausage instead of beef. And you are going to go make yourself presentable. He’ll be here at eight.”
Annette glanced at the wall clock. Only an hour and a half.
“But, I don’t have TIME to get ready!” She’d let everything go. She needed to pluck, tweeze, shave, and sugar wax just about everything. She seriously needed to exfoliate and moisturize. And what the fuck was she going to do with her hair? It was like birds had nested there.
“What if I don’t want to see him?” Annette said.
“You’re both impossible. I can see why you’re miserable without each other.”
“Really? He’s miserable?” She tried not to look too happy about it. She tried not to let herself think anything could or would change, that she could do this again. Just because she couldn’t live without him didn’t mean she could live with him, either.
“When I saw him, he had this long, scruffy beard and was drunk off his ass. Now go get ready!”
He’d had a beard? The first time Annette had seen him drunk and out of control was that day at her apartment. Had he been drinking this whole time? Over her?
Janette was already unpacking the things she’d brought from the grocery store. They didn’t cook much at the apartment. A lot of times they just picked up take-out, but spaghetti was the easiest thing a human could make. Especially if they used a sauce from a jar.
The two of them had spent years taste testing and looking until they’d found a gourmet brand that tasted homemade. They’d originally used sausage instead of beef because it was cheaper, but in the end, they’d liked the bit of spicy kick it gave the dish. Then all that was left was wine, some salad, and garlic bread. A simple, romantic dinner.
Oh, God, was she going to leave Annette alone with him? But she didn’t have time to ask. Now it was one hour and twenty-five minutes until Anton’s arrival.
She went to the kitchen and poured some sugar and olive oil into a bowl.
“Do you have time to sugar scrub?” Janette asked.
“I can’t afford not to.” She held out her arm for Janette to feel.
“Yikes.”
“I know.”
Annette raced through a shower, and sugar scrub. She got rid of all extraneous hair. Not that she expected she was going home with him tonight. Or sleeping with him. That was not happening. And yet, her behavior wasn’t the behavior of a woman who didn’t plan to fuck. When you don’t want to fuck, you keep the jungle wild. That way you can remain sane enough to say “I can’t, tonight.” Waxing? Shaving? Or any other hair removal method of the lady region meant one thing and one thing only.
Once she’d washed and conditioned, her hair wasn’t really that bad. She put in a curl activator and dried with a diffuser and everything looked soft, manageable, and human again.
She opened the drawer with her makeup stash and glimpsed edible pineapple flavored whipped body cream. She’d tracked the stuff down a week into her absolute freedom from him. She didn’t know why she’d bought it—As if she could stand that memory with him gone.
She put it on. Followed by makeup—nothing too over the top. Just natural and dewy. The fresh-faced and innocent look. She pushed away the stray thought that she wanted to be so appealing to him that he’d take her no matter what her protests.
You could have gone back to him at any time, a traitorous voice in her mind whispered. But no, she could not. Nothing had changed. And if there was no longer a threat to Janette, she just couldn’t justify it anymore.
She slipped into a pair of plum-colored sling backs and a matching halter-style dress with an open back. No bra. Nothing screamed “kidnap me now” like this dress with no bra. Annette put a delicate silver chain with a small heart around her neck and a couple of tasteful bracelets.
When she stepped out of the bedroom, dinner was ready and Anton was there, sitting on the couch. He stood when she entered the room. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and dark gray tie.
She felt the insane compelling urge to kneel and crawl to him, but of course she wasn’t about to do that with Janette there. And anyway, that was over. It was broken and done. Why had she gone to all this trouble? It was too late.
“You look stunning, kiska.”
“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Janette said. “When I get back, I expect you both to be back at Anton’s house doing whatever twisted shit you two are into. Call me in the morning.”
“No!” Annette said, “You can’t leave me with him.”
“Well, I’m not going to stick around and watch you two fuck each other like animals on the sofa.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Annette said.
“With the way you two are looking at each other? Sure it isn’t. Bye.”
Her sister was out the door before she could stop her. Annette started to go after her, but Anton blocked her way.
“Sit down at the table,” he said. It was the tone he used when he expected to be obeyed. This was not the Anton she’d seen six weeks ago, all drunk and crazy. However Janette may have found him that morning, this Anton was sobered up, in control, and completely devastating in all the right ways.
The way he was now, he could probably just calmly tell her to get in the car and she’d do it. She’d have a breakdown about halfway to the house over the Brian issue, but he could probably at least get her in the car. The fact that he still had this level of power terrified the shit out of her.
Somehow, this was far more frightening than the night with the knife and his bizarre meltdown. He was here with a kind of purpose only possible when sober. Annette was beginning to wish she’d gotten drunk for tonight. She was so nervous she was sure she would die from it.
“Kiska? You really want to start this reunion with punishment?”
She thought about arguing with him about what he could and couldn’t do with her, but that was po
intless and foolish. He could basically do whatever he wanted. He was bigger than her and stronger than her, and her sister had left her alone with him. And it wasn’t as though she’d suddenly gotten a whole new crop of neighbors who would hear her scream. Nothing had changed.
And everything had.
They ate quietly. Annette became convinced he wouldn’t say another word to her through the entire dinner, but finally he spoke.
“I’m taking you back to the house with me.”
“No.” She couldn’t help it. The word just came out. All she could think about was the fact that Brian was still in that house.
“It wasn’t a request. I should have taken you back that first night, but I was too drunk. I tried to leave you alone, but your sister told me how you’ve been. I’ve seen this before. I’ve known other pets abandoned by their masters who spiraled out like you have. It doesn’t happen every time, but when it does, they almost never truly come back from it. I’m not leaving you like that. We’ll work it out.” He didn’t bring up his own earlier drunken and disheveled state.
“I can’t.”
Anton calmly took a sip of wine, his gaze never leaving her. “It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t.” He opened his suit coat to reveal something shiny and silver in the inner pocket. “I’ll sedate you if I must, but you are coming with me.”
Just give in to him. Just go and don’t worry about Brian.
She started crying.
“Kiska. This can’t go on. We can’t go on without each other. We both know it. You know that I love you. And I think you feel the same things.”
Annette’s fork dropped with a grating clang against her plate.
What? No, she absolutely didn’t know that. She’d been sure those feelings only flowed one way. Sure, she knew he’d been possessive of her, but she’d always thought it was just a sexual thing to him—a control thing. It was just the bargain they’d made.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said.
“I don’t lie. That’s your game, pet. We’re going to finish dinner, and then we’re going to go home. It will be a very long time before I take you out again. You’ll have to earn it.”