by J. A. Baker
That’s not going to happen. Leah won’t allow it. She clutches the lion tighter, her knuckles white, her skin taut.
Chloe’s phone lies on the floor next to the bathtub. Leah bends down and silently removes it from her reach, sliding it across the bathmat before plucking it up and clasping it tightly between her fingers. The black case is hot and sticky, moisture clinging to it. On impulse, she slips it into her pocket pondering over its contents; all those messages and names and secrets. Later, she will search through it, gain some insight into Chloe’s life, discover who her friends are, find out what sort of a person she really is, glean as much information as she can from this device. Knowledge is power.
Leah glances at the heavy object clamped in her hand. This is her protection, the only way she has of silencing Chloe. She will use it to threaten her and if that doesn’t work – well if that doesn’t work she will have to think of something else. After all she’s been through in the past few months, she is nothing if not resourceful. There is an endless well of ingenuity stored deep inside her that she can draw from. She has a keen eye for detail and can pre-empt Chloe’s every move. She is going to be fine. Everything is going to be absolutely fine. It has to be. She’s here now; there’s no going back. No way to suddenly disappear without causing a major ruckus. This is her moment, her chance to put everything back to how it was, to make everything perfect again.
The sound of splashing and the slight breeze of a nearby movement makes her head fizz with desire. She purses her lips, bracing herself for the ensuing chaos as Chloe sits bolt upright, eyes bursting out of their sockets as she spots her intruder, registers who it is standing there next to her. Leah lets out a sigh of satisfaction that borders on sexual. She leans forward towards the startled naked woman, their faces almost touching, Leah’s skin burning, her pupils dilated with expectation.
A thrill runs through her, an electric pulse. She smiles, presses her free hand over her victim’s mouth and whispers softly, so very softly that her voice can barely be heard above Chloe’s muffled scream, ‘Well hello there. I didn’t bother knocking, I just let myself in. Guess who?’
25
The emotional pull of power and control Leah feels is like nothing she has ever experienced. She sucks in her breath, keeps her feet planted firmly on the floor, thinking that doing this sooner would have stopped her life from spiralling out of control and ending up in the gutter. She wouldn’t have lost everything she held dear, including Jacob. Perhaps she would be the one currently lounging around in this bathtub like a lady of leisure, taking everything for granted, always assuming that life will go her way, forever thinking that the good things in life will naturally fall from the sky into her perfect little lap.
Chloe has had such an easy ride, such an easy fucking time of it while Leah’s life has turned to shit. Well, not anymore. That is about to come to an abrupt end. Chloe’s days of having Jacob all to herself are over. This is Leah’s time to shine.
Having the advantage and feeling Chloe slip and struggle under her grasp has pumped her full of adrenaline and she is high on the sensation, her head spinning, her body trembling. It’s better than any drug or substance designed to give thrills. Her skin is on fire, her muscles tight and hot with pleasure. She can do this. Chloe is remarkably weak despite Leah holding her still with only one hand. She is using minimal force and hasn’t even broken a sweat. She giggles, an unintended high-pitched screech. This is going to be so easy.
‘Lie still and I won’t hurt you,’ she says, suddenly serious, her voice a hiss through gritted teeth and laced with menace. ‘Just listen to what I have to say and you won’t get injured. Do you understand?’
Chloe nods, her eyes wide, brimming with tears. Leah presses her hand down harder, applying more force, just to show that she is serious. Just because she can. It’s a warning and Chloe ignores it at her peril.
‘I’m going to give you a set of instructions and you’re going to follow them. In a minute you will be told to stand up. I will remove my hand and you will step out of the bath and put on your dressing gown. You won’t scream or make a noise or even whisper, because if you do, I will bring this down on your head and I can assure you, it weighs enough to do an awful lot of damage to your fragile little skull.’ She leans forward, her voice sibilant in Chloe’s ear, ‘And think of the state your pretty little face will be in afterwards. All those scars. Your flawless skin battered and bruised and torn to shreds. What will Jacob think of you then, eh?’
To prove the point, Leah lifts up the solid cream-coloured lion and brandishes it like a weapon, twisting it in the air, visualising the bone and blood splatter that would spread far and wide if she were to bring it down onto Chloe’s face. ‘I don’t think I even have to tell you how much it will hurt, do I? You’ve probably dusted this old thing a hundred times, so you know exactly how much it weighs, don’t you?’
Leah smiles, her eyes as cold as steel as she continues to speak. ‘By the way, you’ve done a fine job of keeping house for me. I’m not so keen on your choice of colours. Bit bland for my tastes but I quite like the musket. Not so sure about the Hockney print though. I doubt Jacob approved when you brought that nasty piece of artwork into the flat. Bit obvious, don’t you think? You really need to educate yourself when it comes to choosing pictures, Chloe. Pop art is for boors and barbarians. Anyway, I might have to redecorate and replace some of the knick-knacks once you leave here. They’re a bit twee. But then I suppose somebody as uncultured as yourself wouldn’t know any better, would they? I’d like to say I forgive you for stealing Jacob, for worming your way into his life and living here in my home, but that would be a lie. A big fat fucking lie. I have nothing but contempt for you and your weaselly little ways. Now do exactly as I say and stand up.’
Wide-eyed and nodding furiously, Chloe gets to her feet, her legs shaking and bending like a young foal, soap suds clinging to her reddened flesh. Leah stands back, still grasping the heavy lion, watching the dripping terrified figure as she stands in the bath, immobile aside from the involuntary tremble of her slim, soap-covered thighs. The horrified girl bends over slightly, one arm strategically placed over her breasts and the other across her midriff. Leah smiles, leans forward, moves Chloe’s arms away, pushing them down to her sides before standing back to look at her properly.
‘It’s a funny thing,’ Leah murmurs, her eyes sweeping over Chloe’s naked body, ‘seeing you completely nude like this, I suppose I can see why Jacob took a fancy to you. You’ve got the perfect figure – slim, nice arse, pert tits.’
She stares at Chloe’s toned physique, at her small perfect breasts, her narrow hips and the thin line of dark hair that runs between her legs. She mentally compares it to her own shapeless body, to her loose breasts and flabby backside, to her chunky thighs and not so perfect stomach and thinks how shallow Jacob must be to be attracted to such things. Surely he is better than that? He’s an intelligent, well-educated guy who should be above being magnetised to such superficial traits and features. Leah tightens her jaw, grinding her teeth together, wondering how long Chloe would take to drown if she held her head under the water, how much she would fight and struggle to stay alive. Then she thinks about Jacob, visualises his smile, remembers his sweet scent, his twinkling eyes and softens at the thought of his beautiful face. He may well be an intellectual but he is also a young man in his prime, driven by lust, and for that reason alone, she is prepared to forgive him.
‘Right, now I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m telling you. Don’t scream because if you do, I will cave your skull in. Are you listening to me?’ Leah moves her face closer to Chloe’s, leans into her ear and hisses once again, ‘Are you sure you’re listening to what I’m saying, you sad little bitch. Are you?’
Chloe nods furiously, tears running down her cheeks, her chin wobbling as she looks to Leah for the next instruction. She wants to comply. Leah can see that. At least she is being pliant and not railing against what is happening. This is g
ood. It’s a positive start. It’s going to make everything so much easier.
‘Right,’ Leah says briskly. ‘Step out of the bath and put this on. We’re going into the bedroom and remember, one word, one sound, even if you breathe too loudly, I will hit you so hard you won’t have time to wonder what happened.’ She hands Chloe a white towelling robe and watches as, shivering, she climbs out of the water and wraps herself in the thick robe. Chloe pulls the belt around her middle and ties it tight with trembling fingers that lack basic dexterity and are clearly struggling to co-operate with her brain.
Leah grips Chloe’s upper arm and guides her into the bedroom. Once again, Chloe’s influence is everywhere. At the foot of the bed is an ottoman covered with a cream satin fabric. The headboard is a huge tangle of ornate wrought iron and on the opposite wall is a large mural of a Victorian Parisian street scene complete with flower sellers, ladies carrying parasols and the Eiffel Tower protruding into the distant sky. It is beyond hideous and possibly the worst vintage urban image Leah has ever seen, so crass and ugly she laughs out loud, the sound of her voice bouncing around the room.
‘God, this place is a mess,’ she says, her laughter abruptly stopping, anger now creeping in as she tries to suppress the sight of Chloe and Jacob lying in this bed, devouring each other, Chloe flaunting her body in front of him, knowing she has to do very little to arouse him. ‘All you need is a neon light above the door to tout your wares and this room is complete. Jesus Christ, Chloe, this place is disgusting. I pity Jacob, having to relent to your demands, decorating this room like a whorehouse and tearing the very soul out of it.’
Chloe lets out a whimper of protest and cries some more. Leah tightens her grip on her arm, feeling solid bone beneath the layers of flesh, muscles and sinews.
‘Stop it. Stop crying and whining or things will turn nasty, and you don’t want that, do you?’ Another shake of the head and more tears. Leah smiles, satisfied she’s in control. How wonderfully gratifying it is to see the tables being turned, to have her power restored and watch this person crumple under her influence. This is what winning feels like. This is what ultimate dominance is. For the first time, Leah is the powerful one, the person making all the decisions. Chloe is a nobody. She’ll do exactly as she is told without question.
‘Lie down, don’t move, don’t whimper. Do absolutely nothing, do you understand?’ Leah pushes her down onto the bed. Chloe suppresses a sob, biting at her lip with force, her small white teeth digging into the soft pink flesh of her mouth.
‘You and I are going to play a little game. We’re going to pretend that you no longer want to be with Jacob. You’re going to send him a text message explaining that you need some time apart because you’ve found somebody else. And you will do it without any resistance or crying and whining, d’you hear me?’
Chloe lets out a small moan of desperation, more tears spilling out and pouring down her face. Leah cannot help but stare and smile at her, marvelling at how weak and helpless she is. From a glamorous confident woman, in a matter of minutes, Chloe has been reduced to a blotchy-faced gibbering wreck. Oh, how the mighty fall. And how glorious it is to observe, to be a witness to their long-awaited demise. It feels amazing to be back in control of her life. For a time, she was sure that nothing was ever going to come right again, but now here she is, with Chloe as her little servant, doing her bidding, and it feels glorious.
On impulse, she crouches down and places her hands around Chloe’s throat, enjoying the sensation of the thin pliable skin under her fingers, elated by the fact the small delicate bones in Chloe’s neck twitch and shift as she begins to apply more pressure. She watches fascinated as Chloe’s eyes bulge and her nostrils begin to flare. Leah smiles, shakes her head dismissively and then lets go. She didn’t have any intention of going through with it but it was worth it just to see Chloe’s reaction. And she didn’t disappoint. Her response was everything Leah ever hoped it would be. It’s obvious she’s terrified about what the next few minutes hold for her.
This is perfect. Everything is perfect. Things have never been better. She imagines Jacob’s face when he receives the text and then thinks how delighted he will be to come home at the end of the week and find Leah waiting for him. He’ll soon forget all about Chloe and everything will go back to how it was before she came on the scene. Once Chloe has fled, Leah will spend all week putting the flat back to how it should be. She knows exactly how it will look, can visualise it already. The fake antique trinkets will get bagged up and every single photo of Chloe will get stacked on a bonfire and burnt.
Leah lets out a quivering breath. She’s going to savour every moment of this time and one day she and Jacob will look back on it and shudder at how close they came to losing each other.
She stares around the room, at its ghastly décor and is struck by an idea. The curtains are pulled back using tiebacks made from a strong corduroy material. Keeping her gaze fixed on Chloe, she heads over to the window, drags the curtains closed and unhooks the tiebacks, pulling them tight between her fists to test them for strength and durability. Perfect. It would take an inordinate amount of strength to break free of these beauties. Just goes to show that this room isn’t as bad as she first thought and does have its good points despite it looking like a prize whorehouse.
Resting her backside on the edge of the bed, Leah rolls a subservient Chloe over onto her front, places her knee in the small of her back and pushes her face down into the pillows. Chloe responds with a muffled cry but makes no attempt to escape. Grabbing her hands, Leah roughly wraps the corduroy ties around them and pulls tight until she hears a squawk and another cry. Making sure they’re properly knotted and as taut as they can be, Leah does the same to Chloe’s feet, relishing the element of control it gives her. Who knew being cruel could be so much fun?
Only when she is satisfied that she has eliminated any chances of escape does she drag Chloe back over. The pillow is damp with her tears and sweat and snot. Feeling repulsed, Leah drags it out from under Chloe’s head and holds it aloft, her face creased with revulsion. ‘This is disgusting. What is wrong with you? Is this how you live? Like some kind of filthy creature?’
On impulse, she lowers the pillow and places it over Chloe’s face, pressing her palms down onto the soft white cotton, watching as Chloe bucks about, her hips and chest thrusting and twisting as she tries to break free and gasp for breath.
‘Oh, relax,’ Leah says sullenly, removing her hands and throwing the pillow to one side. ‘I’m not going to kill you for God’s sake. I’m just trying to teach you a lesson, that’s all.’ She lets out a hollow laugh and kicks the pillow away to the other side of the room. It lands in the corner with a soft thump and sits there in a stout crumpled heap. ‘Now,’ she purrs as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out Chloe’s phone, ‘this is the good bit. This is the part where Jacob finds out about your cheating and how you’re leaving him for another man.’
Moving closer to Chloe’s tear-stained face, Leah hisses in her ear, ‘Password, Chloe. No messing about, now. No lying or refusing. Just give me your password and let’s get this thing over with, eh?’
Chloe trembles and shakes her head repeatedly, her eyes wide and unblinking. She reminds Leah of a cornered animal. Soon she will whimper, beg for leniency, maybe even lash out in desperation. Who knows how she’ll react when the pressure really starts to kick in. Leah watches her, a furrow beginning to gather on her brow, her patience waning. She sighs, rolls her eyes and presses her lips together, the force of it causing her skin to tingle. She has neither the time nor the temper for these sorts of delaying tactics. The sooner this whole thing is done, the better for everybody.
‘Can I just remind you that you’re not in any position to refuse?’ She can feel the heat pulsating from Chloe’s face as she closes the gap between them once more and raises her voice a notch. It has an edge to it, is sinister in its strength and ferocity. ‘Give me the fucking password or that statement about not hurting you gets c
ancelled out. I’ll do whatever I have to do. You know that, Chloe. You’ve always known it. Now, tell me the password or I will do something to that pretty face of yours that will leave a scar for the rest of your life.’ Her jaw aches with the effort of containing her temper. She moves back, surveying Chloe’s sprawled and weeping body like a scientist assessing its specimen ready for dissection.
‘No, please. Don’t hurt me. Don’t make me give you it. I can’t,’ Chloe manages to blubber, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looks like a small child, a useless sobbing youngster who is incapable of taking care of herself.
‘Okay,’ Leah replies calmly as she picks up a nearby nail file and casually inspects it, running her finger up and down its edge, testing it for sharpness. She covers Chloe’s wet mouth with her hand and brings the sharp metal object down onto her cheek, dragging it across the soft skin under Chloe’s twitching eye. A faint pink line appears almost immediately, a thin reminder of what she can do, of who she really is.
A muffled scream comes from behind Leah’s hand. She presses her palm down to stop the noise and digs the sharp implement into Chloe’s skin, pushing down, sharp metal against soft young flesh.
Now Chloe knows. Now she will assist her.
‘Relax,’ Leah sighs, her patience beginning to wear thin. ‘I haven’t drawn blood but there is a mark. Let’s call it a deep scratch. Whether or not I have to do it again and whether or not it will leave a permanent scar is completely up to you. Now,’ she says icily, rolling her eyes and removing her hand, staring long and hard into Chloe’s bewildered face, her dilated pupils as black as night, ‘what did you say that password was?’
26
‘The year you were born. How original.’ Leah punches in the number, grinning wildly as the phone springs to life, a garish swirl of brightly coloured apps catching her eye.