11. Catherine
Chapter 11
Catherine
“Let go, my little shadow,” he whispers. His breath on my skin sends a shiver up and down my body. The feel of his calloused fingers wrapping around my wrist brings me back from inside myself, helping my tunnel vision to recede. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“What have I done?” I ask myself as I look down at the mutilated corpse in front of me and the blood covering my body. So much blood.
Remorse hits me like a battering ram. What have I done? I’m not the type of person to let their rage dictate their actions. I didn’t think I would ever let my dark thoughts control me to the point I took a life.
He’s dead, he’s dead. You killed him.
This isn’t me. No, this is not me. This was him. This is his fault. He instigated my anger. He made emotions I’ve been trying to suffocate come to the surface. I’ve learned to numb it all, and he, in one second, destroyed my self-control. My mind is spinning. It’s funny how a matter of minutes can change the trajectory of your entire life and you as a person.
“You did nothing wrong. He had it coming.” Is he serious right now? My grip tightens on the blade still in my hand. “His fate was sealed the moment he stared into your pretty eyes.”
“I know I did nothing wrong. This is all your fault.”
“Mine?” he exclaims. His tone sounds as if he is amused by my comment, sending irritation coursing through my veins.
“Yes.” My fist tightens on the hilt of the blade. “You made me do this.” With the small amount of adrenaline still pounding in my ears, I pull on my arms, remove the hold he has on my wrist, get off the bed, and stand in front of him, my feet firm on the ground and my knife outstretched in front of me ready to defend myself or readying myself to end his life too. At this point, my life has turned into madness. I'm not sure what I’m capable of.
“I don’t know what fucking sick game you’re playing, but I’m no longer part of it. I asked you to leave me alone. I begged you to let me go, but you had to push me until I exploded.” He chuckles, making the volcano inside of me erupt. “How is this situation even funny?” What is wrong with him?
He breaks the few inches left between us, towering over me, pressing his body against mine, slowly pushing me against the wall. A breath whooshing out of me. He grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger, caressing my bottom lip with his thumb. I look up at him, my eyes connecting with cold onyx ones. Desperation, desire, and anger flickering in them.
With his free hand, he grabs a fist full of my hair. “You’re so fucking sexy when you're angry, my little shadow.” My breath quickens.
“Stay away from me.” I manage to breathlessly say.
He tilts his head to the side, studying me. “Is that what you really want?” Yes. No. I don’t know.
What I really want is to look under that mask. It’s been driving me. Letting the need I feel to see him control my actions, without thinking anymore, I grab the bottom of his mask and remove it off his face, throwing it on the floor.
My heart hammers as I study his masculine features: jet-black disheveled hair, bushy eyebrows, straight nose, and prominent jawline. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
I’m not sure how long I stare at him, but his eyes never waver from mine. He looks down at me with a slight, closed-lipped smile. “Do you like what you see?” he says in a husky tone that sends a tingle down to my core.
“Yes,” I murmur, not realizing I said it out loud until I see his eyes darken with desire from my answer. I go to open my mouth, unsure of what I’m going to say, but before I can get anything out, his mouth lands against mine- kissing me hard, aggressively. Sparks consume my skin, the heat in my stomach flares to life, and my pulse beats wildly against my ears, shutting out everything. I no longer care that I killed my boyfriend in cold blood. I no longer care that his blood is covering my skin. All I want to do is bask in the euphoria this man makes me feel.
“You’re mine,” he growls, gripping me so tight my eyes water. “Do you understand? You’re fucking mine.” I’m not sure why his possessiveness makes a warmth radiate through my chest. It makes me feel as if I’m wanted. If a normal person would be listening to my conversation with myself they would send me straight to a hospital. But good thing they’re not. I’ve always known there’s a darkness inside of me. It’s probably why I feel safe around him.
His darkness recognizes mine.
“Yours,” I murmur into his mouth, closing my eyes and letting my body dissolve against his. His hands study every inch of me, his touch so hot and possessive it brands itself into my flesh.
He lifts me, walks us over to the clean side of the bed, and lays me down. He looks down at my body to a spot between my legs. He smiles a wolfish grin that knocks the breath out of me as he traces the D he carved on my thigh, making me wince from the sting.
He reaches over for something on the nightstand. “What are you getting?” I ask, curious. I try to follow his movements with my eyes, but his arm is blocking my view.
“Making sure I make all your darkest fantasies come to life.”
I look at him with raised eyebrows. I can’t think of anything else he could do. “Didn’t you already complete them?”
He shakes his head with a mischievous grin on his face. He lifts up a thick wand with a glint in his eyes. “Not all of them.”
My eyes widened, studying the object in his hand. That is not a regular wand, it looks like a dildo made to look like a wand. Oh, god. My heart skips a beat. I had no idea such things existed. My pussy clenches, ready for him to consume me.
Gloved hands grab my knees and squeeze possessively. “Open wide for me, my little slut. Let me ravish your pussy the way you’ve always dreamt of.” His voice is raspy and deep as he drags the wand up my thighs, goosebumps peppering in its wake. I wiggle my hips, desperate for him to touch me. “So eager,” he chuckles. “Your pussy is already dripping for this wand.”
“No, it’s not the wand. It’s for you,” I whisper. My face is heating from my comment. I’ve never been so brazen before.
He tilts his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “Really? Then show me how bad you want me.” He pushes the wand forward, pressing it against my folds. A shiver rushes through my body from the cold sensation, my head tilts back as my eyes shut close, pleasure ripping through me. I can feel his eyes searing my skin as he fucks me slowly, twisting the wand as he pulls out and sinking back in, the wet sounds of my pussy gripping the wand turning me on even more.
“You’re such a good girl, my little slut.” He growls, speeding the movement of his wrist, twisting it a certain way hitting that delicious spot that makes me see stars. I let out a loud moan, my body heating, my toes curling in my boots, my hands gripping the mattress.
“Come for me, baby.” He grabs my head and leans forward until our foreheads touch. We’re close enough. His growling breathing collides with my panting whimpers as he fucks me ruthlessly. My body rocks against the wand until a scream erupts from my throat as my orgasm claims me.
His wrist slows his movement, and slowly, he pulls the wand out, a low growl escaping from his throat as he gazes at the drenched toy soaked in my arousal. He lifts the wand up to his mouth and licks. “Hmmm,” he breathes. He places the wand on the bed. “I will never get over how good you taste, my little shadow. So fucking sweet.”
Closing my eyes, I rest my head back on the bed trying to catch my breath, grinning to myself in blissful content.
He takes my hands, intertwining his fingers with mine as he lowers his body completely onto me. I wrap my legs around his waist, his erection pressing against me through his pants. That must be uncomfortable for him. I reach for his pants button, undoing it, lowering his zipper, freeing his cock then lowering my head back onto the bed. He gives me a cocky grin as he grabs his cock tracing the tip along my slit, up and down, building anticipation between us.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he breathes, grazing his lips on the crook of my neck. “You’re a drug that I don’t want to free myself from.” He slips inside of me effortlessly. Wetness pools on the sheets beneath us and he grinds into me, finding the perfect rhythm. A soft moan falls from my lips as he slips his hand between my legs working on my clit, quickening his thrust. My mouth falls open in a moan. My legs tremble as I push back to meet his thrust. “You see how perfect we fit together?” He quietly lets out, applying more pressure on my clit, my arousal coating his fingers. “We were created for each other, my little shadow. There’s no one else in this world for either of us.” He drills into me faster and faster, the bed rocking with each thrust matching our rhythm.
“You’re so fucking wet, babe,” he moans. I whimper as my orgasm claims me, swallowing me whole, my inner walls contracting around his cock. The pleasure is so intense I can’t speak. “Keep rocking your hips.” He orders and I do as he says. “Good girl, just like that.”
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, seeing stars.
With our foreheads touching, chests heaving, our lips close enough that I feel a lingering touch, he spills himself inside of me, burying himself deep. “You’re the salvation for my dark condemned soul, little shadow.” My heart pounds in my chest. My mind feels like it’s in mayhem. I stare up at his onyx eyes, feeling lost and confused, a fluttering in my stomach.
“I don’t even know who you are.”
He caresses my cheeks with a soft, pleased smile on his face and a you're lying look in his eyes. “You should go.”
My head shakes involuntarily. My heart guides my actions. “I don’t want to leave you,” I whisper, afraid I’ll never see him again. A scoff escapes my lips, making one of his eyebrows rise as he stares at me in question. It’s funny how earlier today, I told myself that it was a one-night sort of deal, that I would wake up tomorrow putting this whole night away and here I am not wanting him to leave.
“Catherine, don’t worry. You can’t get rid of me this easily,” he says, his tone sounding as if he is on edge, his eyes darkening, his features hardening as the seconds tick by and I don’t move. “Catherine, you need to go,” he orders as he gets up from on top of me, leaving me cold. Taking that as my cue, I get up and head to the door, halting in front of the doorknob. “The doors locked,” I say, my back facing him.
“It’s open.”
With a sigh and a heavy heart, I turn the doorknob, open the door, and walk through it. With each step I take I feel like I’m leaving my heart behind, piece by piece. Tears prickle in the back of my eyes, but I force them away, begging them not to fall. I’m not going to break down now. When I break, it will be in private.
Turning on the shower, I lower my head, letting the hot water flow through my hair down my body, washing off the blood coating my skin, painting the clear water at my feet red. My body feels numb, my mind jumbled with so many lingering thoughts that it’s hard to make sense of them. As I was walking home, I tried to make sense of everything, but when my head started to pound, I decided to give up trying. There’s no point forcing myself when all it’s going to cause is a migraine. I reach over for my soap, put a good amount on my sponge, and scrub my whole body.
I’m not sure how long I stand under the water. It turned cold some time ago, but the feeling of the water on my skin felt cleansing. With pruned hands, I turn off the water, grab the towel, dry myself, and walk out of the bathroom into the room, dressing in comfy PJs.
“No!” My stepmother’s screams from downstairs has my hackles rising. Oh god. I’m going to jail. The police are here to take me. My breath becomes shallow, my heart pounding against my ribcage. “Catherine,” she screams my name as she pounds on the door. I inhale a breath before opening the door. She looks destroyed. Her hair disheveled, mascara running down her cheeks, eyes red-rimmed. I look past her, waiting for a cop to come and get me, but I relax a little when no one else appears.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, forcing my voice to sound concerned. “He’s dead,” she wails. “They’re all dead.”
“Who?”
“Matt and his family. There was a fire, and they got trapped inside the haunted house.” A sudden heaviness expands over my chest causing me to feel slightly dizzy. That was
his plan all along. That’s why he was pushing me to leave. He planned all of that. He gave me the opportunity to get payback and covered my tracks.
“The news said an animatronic malfunctioned and caught fire,” she says through a sob. I feel an unexpected release of tension. I got away with murder.
“What is wrong with you?” she yells, grabbing my arms and shaking me. “Your boyfriend just died and you’re acting like you don’t give a shit.”
I want to scream at her and tell her I don’t give a shit because even if he wouldn’t have died by my hands, the news of his death would have brought me happiness.
“You have more to feel about his death than I do,” I say nonchalantly.
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
I pull my arms from her grasp. “I suggest you leave me the fuck alone, not one glare or a
single word will be uttered from you if you don’t want me to plant the seed in my father’s head that the baby you're carrying may belong to a dead man.”
“You bitch,” she yells, lifting her hand as if to hit but the blow never comes. Instead, there’s a hand holding her wrist tightly.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls. “Lay one more finger on her if you want to find yourself buried next to your lover.” His voice is dark and dangerous, sending a chill down my spine.
She looks at him, then back at me with a shocked look on her face. She pulls her arms from him and walks away bitching under her breath. I sigh, closing my eyes, my shoulder relaxing when the sound of the lock clicks.
Calloused hands grab my face gently. “Are you alright?” Am I alright? I look deep down. I nod, “Yes.”
He pulls me towards him, wrapping his arms around me, and hugging me tightly. I inhale his earthy scent and I feel safe again, as if I finally found my home. “No one will ever hurt you again, my little shadow. You’re safe with me.”
I squeeze him tighter, tears staining his black shirt. “Shhh.” He caresses the top of my head. “Don’t waste your tears on the people who hurt you. They don’t matter.”
“I'm not crying because of them. I’m crying happy tears,” I sniffle, cleaning my tears with the back of my hand. “For the first time in my fucked up life, I feel safe, I feel cared for. All my life my father put himself and his wife first even if they were together for a short time. Even my mom chose herself first when she killed herself, leaving alone a ten-year-old girl to fend for herself.”
“I will make it my life’s mission to never let you feel that again. All I want is for you to feel happy, loved, and protected for the rest of our lives.”
Our lives.
Those two words echo inside my head. My mind slowly starts to knock some sense into me. I don’t even know who this man is and he is talking about our lives. What is wrong with me? One act of kindness and I’m already putting aside that he is a murderer.
Aren’t you one, too?
My subconscious has a point. As much as I want to blame him for Matt, it was all me. The darkness I’ve always tried to suppress erupted like a volcano that finally woke up from its slumber. He gave me the opportunity. I could have easily said no, but I didn't. I snapped.
“Will you tell me who you are now?”
He nods and guides me towards my favorite place in this room, the window nook. Before I can sit, I notice a dozen black tulips. I hesitate with a flutter in my stomach. When did those get here? I think back to when I got home, they weren’t there, and when I got out of the bathroom, I would have noticed if it was left there while I was showering.
“Do you like them?” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist from my back.
“Yes. Those are my-.” Wait, something dawns on me. “Those are my favorite flowers, but you already knew that?”
“Yes,” he whispers into my hair.
My heart thunders in my chest. My suspicions were true. “It’s you,” I whisper. I can feel his smile.
“Good girl.”