Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Cat
W hat the fuck am I doing ?
This is what my brain keeps screaming as I make my way up the stairs, because what I want to do and what I’m actually doing are two very different things. I want to be with Bennett. Instead, I’m heading to bed at nine p.m. like some pearl-clutching cat lady.
We mustn’t fuck the hot guy downstairs. What will our friends think ?
God, I hate myself right now.
Then I notice the glob of mustard on my white shirt, and the hatred only grows. What am I, five? Did I think my tits needed a little flavor? Not that anyone will be tasting them anytime soon.
With a groan, I turn around and head back down the stairs. I paid a lot for this fucking blouse, and I’m not about to let a yellow splotch ruin something that took nearly a quarter of my most recent paycheck. A little soda water from the bar in the dining room should set things right again.
Maybe Bennett won’t be in there to tempt me. After we washed up the dishes we’d dirtied, he said he wanted to take a walk around the property. Well, a walk around the mansion’s interior. It’s too cold for an outdoor constitutional.
As I reach the foot of the stairs, a door opens and shuts somewhere on the second floor. Moments later, a smiling Maudlin Rose races down the hallway and bolts down the stairs wearing a necklace made of pink flowers.
That’s it. Just the flowers.
Grim isn’t far behind her. His sinewy legs piston beneath him, and with each spindly stride, it sounds as if he’s clapping.
I don’t want to look.
I don’t want to look.
But fuck, I do it anyway.
When he runs, his cock and balls smack against each other—and anything else within reach—which creates the sound that will haunt my nightmares for many years to come.
As they tear down the stairs and race through the main hall, they don’t notice me standing here, with my mouth wide open and my eyes wishing for a Helen Keller type miracle. I mean, seriously. The woman overcame so much, but she was also spared some visual horrors.
Rosie opens her mouth, and it takes me a moment to realize what she’s doing. No sound comes from her throat, but her stomach contracts, and I’ve never seen a smile so wide. She’s laughing. It’s silent, but it’s unmistakable now.
As she doubles over in a fit of silent giggles, Grim catches up to her and pulls her against him.
“Oh, mein Schatzi , I have caught you now,” he growls against her ear, and now I’m uncomfy.
I shouldn’t witness such a private moment, but I don’t know how to escape. If I move, they’ll see me, but if I don’t, they won’t. And I don’t know which outcome is worse.
I clear my throat and turn toward the dining room, hoping against hope that they’ll just ignore me and carry on. I am not that lucky, however.
“Oh, Catarina!” Grim says. “Rosie would like to speak with you, if you have a moment.”
I turn and blink at them. What do I do with my eyes? I don’t know where to look. “N-now? You guys seem a bit . . . busy?”
The floor. I’ll look at the floor.
“Nonsense, nonsense. It will not take up much of your time. She is a woman of very few words.” He lets out a soft chuckle at his little joke. “Come closer so you can hear her more clearly.”
Do I have to?
Seeing no way out of this, I swallow and walk toward them. As I draw nearer, however, looking at the floor is no longer an option. If I look any lower than Rose’s navel, my left eye fills with an oddly large set of testicles, and my right eye is obscured by a bush the size of Rhode Island.
I’m not against women having pubic hair, but when the woman is as tiny as Rosie, the pussy ends up looking like a literal beaver dam. It’s a lot of fucking hair.
“She said you need to listen to your heart,” Grim said, and I pull myself out of the mental vortex their genitals have sent me into.
“Pardon?” I look at Rose.
She smiles at me—something that doesn’t happen very often—and takes my hand in hers. As her soft skin brushes over mine, I’m reminded of my mother. The ass and titties being out, not so much, but that gentle touch is reminiscent of home.
Maudlin Rose takes my hand and places it over my heart, then nods at me.
“See?” Grim says. “She wants you to listen to what you want. Cut out the noise. We are not on this planet for very long, so why are you wasting time on your unhappiness? You give it more attention and consideration than what brings you joy. Do not waste another day, she says. Live.”
“She said . . . all of that?” I look at Rosie, and her eyes glisten with tears as she nods again.
Rose turns to Grim, grabs his hand, and does something to his palm. Her countenance shifts from joyful to serious, and Grim nods at her before turning to me.
“She says . . .” He looks at her again, seemingly unsure about the message she wants him to relay, but she communicates her point again, once more using his palm. “She says that only a fool would run from love, and if you do not take the correct path, you will be dead to her.”
I shift my focus to Rose, who smiles and blinks at me. “Um, okay,” I say. “Thanks, I think? I’m just gonna go now. You two, uh, be safe.”
Grim takes Rose’s hand in his and gives it a pat. “Of course. But we will be busy for the rest of the evening, so please do not interrupt us again.”
Rude, but he’ll get no complaints from me.
Backing away seems like the right move, but I’d rather not gawk at their junk as I make my exit, so I turn and head toward the kitchen once more. As I hurry toward the bar at the back of the dining room, Rosie’s words circle my brain.
Specifically, one word.
Love.
The rest of her message was simple enough to decode. Go for Bennett and stop worrying about what other people think. That part made sense, even if I can’t take her advice, despite the threat of excommunication. Also, how hypocritical of her to threaten me with the loss of friendship if I don’t follow my heart when that is exactly what I fear will happen if I do.
Kindra wouldn’t go so far as to completely ditch our friendship, but she would no longer respect me. Somehow, that’s worse. I admire her. She was an idol before I even knew her name or what she looked like. The woman stands for everything I believe in, and after getting to know her, my admiration has only grown. I don’t ever hope to have her feel the same about me—I’m her opposite in every way—but to lose what respect I’ve gained would destroy me.
So it’s not as simple as Maudlin Rose presents it to be. It’s just not.
But love? Psh, not even close. I’ve never been in love, aside from the occasional high-school obsession, but I imagine it differs from whatever this is. I should feel like I can’t get air when he’s not around, and I’m breathing just fine. The thought of being without him should crush the delicate things inside me, yet I feel as sturdy as I ever have. Sure, there’s a nagging itch to be near him, but I don’t feel as if I need to claw my skin away if I can’t get a fix.
Reaching the bar, I grab the soda gun and aim it at my chest, but then I pull it away. This will be a lot easier if the shirt is on the counter. After glancing around to be sure the coast is clear, I rip off the blouse and lay it on the bar. Aiming the gun’s nozzle at the bright-yellow splotch, I depress the trigger . . . but nothing happens.
Well, fuck. I guess I’ll have to go back to the walk-in. I spotted a few bottles of seltzer in there, and I’m sure they’ll work just as well.
I snatch the shirt from the bar and scurry into the kitchen, which is just as dark and empty as Bennett and I left it. His scent still lingers here—bergamot, sandalwood, and a hint of vanilla—and I close my eyes and breathe it in.
Clink . Clink-clink-clink .
I open my eyes and turn toward the sound.
Clink-clink-clink .
I’m definitely not imagining it, and something about the rhythm sounds almost familiar. Leaving my shirt on the long silver table in the center of the room, I head toward the gentle metallic tapping.
The door to the walk-in fridge stands slightly ajar, which is odd, since we closed it. I remember because I double-checked the handle to ensure the food inside wouldn’t spoil. These doors are stout, so it couldn’t have opened on its own.
I take another step forward and freeze in place. Bennett is on his hands and knees on the walk-in’s floor and he’s . . . thrusting?
Jealousy heats my chest, and I scream at him before I realize what I’m doing. “You fucking cheater!”
He shouts something I can’t understand, but I don’t care what he has to say. I just want to know who he’s fucking and?—
Then, as Bennett scrambles to stand and fasten his pants, I see what he was fucking.
It wasn’t a person.
It was a fucking turkey .
So why do I still feel betrayed?
“I thought you were going for a walk!” I shout.
“Shh!” Bennett rushes forward to put his hand over my mouth, but the thought of raw poultry touching any part of my skin causes me to recoil instantly. “You’ll get the entire mansion down here if you keep squawking. Keep it down.”
“Is that why you’re so attracted to me? Because I squawk? Like a fucking bird , Bennett?”
His cheeks blaze red. “No, no. It’s not—” He shifts from damage-control mode to indignation. “Wait, why the fuck do you care? I thought you wanted to put the brakes on this. Do you just expect me to sit on my hands and wait around until you’re good and ready to stop being ashamed of me?”
“I don’t know what I expected, but it sure as fuck wasn’t this!” I whisper-yell as I motion to the defiled carcass. “How are you even fucking it? Its body is just one empty cavity!”
“Are you genuinely asking?”
I wasn’t, but now he’s piqued my curiosity. I sigh. “Please explain.”
He seems torn between embarrassment and pride as he raises a round fruit from inside the turkey’s gaping cavity. “A few months ago, I was on a message board for people who enjoy . . . food. Anyway, this guy recommended I try fucking a cantaloupe, and I figured I’d give it a shot. This one was small enough to fit inside the turkey, so I just carved a hole right here.”
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Bennett shrugs. “I thought he was full of shit. I mean, he kept bragging about how he banged his therapist, so I worried maybe he was delusional, but no, he was right. The consistency?—”
“I said I’m good, thanks.”
He closes his mouth.
I don’t know what to do with any of this, so I shake my head and turn to leave.
“Hang on a minute.” He grabs my arm and turns me to face him. “If anyone here has a right to ask questions, it’s me. Why are you prancing around the mansion with my property on full display?”
My mouth drops open, and I have to laugh. “Your property? Your fucking property ? Even if you put a ring on my finger and force me to take your last name, I would never be your property.”
“Fuck a ring. If I stick my dick in it, it’s mine.”
“First, gross. Second, if I want to prance through the mansion stark naked, I will.”
“You really don’t get it, do you.”
He releases my arm, but I don’t move. Because he’s right. I don’t get it.
“Cat, you never have to fear me. Do you understand?”
I shake my head.
“I will never hurt you. Never. But if you walk through this mansion naked, I will have to hurt every man who looks at your body. You are blameless, but if they see the parts of you that are meant only for me, you force my hand.”
He steps into me, and I take a step back because this feels like a threat. My ass bumps into the wall, and I have nowhere to go.
“I will hunt them,” he continues. “I will hold them down and pull their eyeballs from their heads with my bare hands. When they scream and ask why, I will tell them they have sinned and coveted what belongs to me. So no, maybe I don’t own you, but you’re still mine.”
This is insanity. These are the men our mothers warn us about. There are entire television networks dedicated to dramatic retellings of what happens when a girl like me ends up with a guy like Bennett.
And I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I leap up, and he catches me under my ass. I no longer care that he was just raw-dogging a turkey-cantaloupe hybrid. I want him to raw-dog me .
“I thought you wanted to wait until we were back in the contiguous US?” he says as I reach behind me to unfasten my bra.
“I do.” I toss the bra to the floor. “But what I want and what I need are two very different things right now.”
“Aren’t you angry that I was fucking the food?”
“Yes, but now I’m horny. I’ll be angry later.” I reach for the hem of his shirt, and he raises his arms.
But as I pull the shirt away, he stops. “Would you try something with me?”
“Try something? Like what?”
He smirks and kisses me once more. “Meet me in your room.”