Chapter 14
Katarina
After a long, hot shower at my new home, I put on my comfortable cotton pajamas and climbed into bed, immediately texting Klara.
I’d deleted the incriminating texts once we were getting close to our final destination but I didn’t need her sending more now that he had my phone.
Plus, she needed the new number. Of course she was suspicious, and called to be sure it was me.
“Did he say why you needed a new phone?” she asked.
“No, but I’m not surprised. He’s very much like Papa in some ways.”
She laughed on the other end. “Well, you know what they say, you always marry someone like your father.”
“Gross,” I said as I grimaced, not that she could see. She didn’t video chat, just immediately called once I’d sent a text to save my new number.
“Still no action, huh?”
Sighing, I said, “No. And he left me alone in his room. Our room. Whatever.”
“And?”
Picking at a tiny piece of lint on the soft, black comforter I asked, “And what?”
“What did you find?”
Sitting upright, I looked around. She’s right. I didn’t even snoop. I slinked off the bed with the phone to my ear. “I hadn’t had time yet, but I’m looking now.”
Pulling the drawers of the nightstand open, I found the charger he mentioned with several little cords coming off a block, so I tossed it on the bed. But besides a pistol, pocket knife, hand cream, and a deck of cards, there wasn’t anything else in the drawer.
“Hand cream and a gun.”
Klara asked, “Girly hand cream?”
“No, fragrance free.” Even though Klara wasn’t attached to anyone in the family, she still was around enough to not be bothered by guns lying around.
Plus, of course he had them around. I didn’t know much about my father’s exact business dealings but overheard enough about guns between him and Niko.
I was almost certain that’s why Hawk was in league with them.
Why else would Papa be partnering with bikers?
“Any other drawers? What’s in the closet?” she asked.
Pulling the door to the closet, I said, “Mostly clothes, lots of jeans and some black pants. Boots. Oh wait.” I reached high up, but couldn’t get the box. “Hold on.”
Cradling the phone to my ear with my shoulder, I dragged the chair that was against the wall into the closet, climbed up, and opened the lid to the mystery box. “Oh, just another gun and some ammo.”
“Nothing else?”
Climbing down, I put the chair back and headed to the bathroom. “He has a lot of products.”
Looking at each one, I was intrigued. After grabbing the hair balm, I opened the lid. The woodsy scent with a touch of citrus that I’d already become addicted to smacked me in the face. But the label wasn’t anything I recognized.
“Hold on, I want to look this up.” Doing a search, apparently his hair and skincare products were all from a local business. “He shops locally. That’s sort of endearing.”
“And takes pride in his appearance. Clearly,” Klara said.
“Yes. Not what I expected when Papa said I’d be marrying a biker, that’s for sure.” I paused. “God, that was so snobby. But you know what I mean.”
“You’re not a snob. I know what you meant. He’s not a suit and tie kinda guy, that’s all. And honestly, that’s all you’ve been around your whole life. I still don’t understand how this all happened.”
“Me either.” Closing the lid to the after shave lotion I’d been huffing as she spoke, I shrugged. “Either way, I’m some powerful man’s wife now. I just assumed we’d have gotten to know each other a little more– better– by now.”
“Right? Way to ruin the whole fantasy. What’s the point of a broody biker of a man taking you home if he doesn’t just rip your clothes off and fuck you until you pass out? Let down of the century.”
After wandering back to the bedroom and opening the chest of drawers, I agreed, “You’re telling me.”
“Do you think he already had a lover and he doesn’t want to dishonor her?” Klara asked so quickly that her words practically blended together.
Pushing the drawer closed, I said, “Thank you for that, Klara. Like I didn’t already worry about random sex with these bunnies as they’re called. Casual encounters are one thing, but a relationship? How embarrassing.”
I plopped down on the bed, still holding the phone to my ear.
“Katya, don’t listen to me. I watch too much television. But you even told me for years that when you took a husband, you expected him to have side pieces.”
Staring at the ceiling fan going full blast, I told her, “Yes. This is true. But that was different.” Sitting up, I grabbed a pillow and inhaled his scent. “They never had their women in the same place together. But this is like… one big family compound. Everyone is here.”
“But you have your own house?”
Looking around, I nodded, even though she couldn’t see. “Yeah, but the clubhouse is right there. I can walk to it. I can see it out the front window. It’s no further than my old room to the poolhouse. It would be different if I didn’t have to be faced with it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have a lover,” she offered.
“I’d love to believe that. But you saw him.”
She giggled. “Yes, yes I did. But just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he’s in a relationship. If my years of reading and watching movies have taught me anything, those kinds of men don’t do relationships.”
Squeezing the pillow and getting a fresh hit of his smell, I said, “That’s what I thought until I spent the whole day riding with those woman.
All amazing by the way,” I said, swiping my hand through the air.
“You will love them. But they’re all with their men, like in love.
And you saw them at the wedding, the men were all smitten.
Is it so much to ask to want to be desired? ”
I fell back to the bed, still grasping the pillow.
“I wish I could offer advice, but this is out of my wheelhouse as a tragically single and sexually barren woman. Can I interest you in a history of various cheeses and the best wine pairing?”
“I miss you so much already.”
“Same. Once the dust settles, I’ll try to visit. And remember, I’m only a call or text away. And hey, no matter if it’s a biker or a mafia prince, things will take time to feel normal. You just met him. Sounds like you at least have some ladies to lean on.”
“I love you. I’ll check in soon,” I told her.
“Love you, my friend. We’ll chat soon. Video chat! Bye.”
I grabbed the charger, plugged it in behind the nightstand, then attached the phone and set it down before falling back to the bed, cradling the pillow again.
I lay there in the middle of the bed for a long time, watching the ceiling fan as I squeezed the pillow.
My eyes blinked open. I’d passed out with the lamp still on and I was in a ball on top of the covers, still in the middle of the bed, and still clutching the pillow.
I had no idea what time it was since there was no clock anywhere and the curtains were all black out curtains. But in my groggy state, I heard a noise. A noise that made my heart fall to my ass.
Maybe I was wrong. Climbing from the bed, I quietly opened the bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall. I stopped halfway down; the sound was louder. The door to the basement was just inches away.
My heart raced. I didn’t know if the door would squeak if I opened it, so instead I tiptoed closer and put my ear to it.
As I listened to the panting and rhythmic squeaks, tears filled my eyes. Swallowing hard, I backed away and padded quietly to the bedroom. I climbed onto the bed, pushing the pillows onto the floor and tucking my knees close to my chest.
My body shook with quiet sobs that I tried to control, only making it harder to stay quiet. My fears had come to fruition so soon. My God. In my house? Our house? While I’m in it?
Covering my ears as the tears gently rolled over my face, I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could cry myself back to sleep so I didn’t have to hear that.
I’d hoped we’d at least have enough mutual respect to keep that at a distance, but we also hadn’t had time to really talk about expectations. Or did he even care about my expectations?
Gulping hard and trying to control the shaking, I reminded myself it was likely the middle of the night. Maybe he thought I was asleep. Maybe he thought he was being discreet?
I’d been a light sleeper ever since Mama passed. He couldn’t have known. I’d just discuss it with him. Tomorrow. With a level head. It made me uncomfortable and hopefully he’d respect me enough to at least not bring them to our home.
It was so stupid to feel this way. I hated that I was…
possessive? Jealous? I barely knew him and my whole adult life I knew this would be the way.
I guess you never really can prepare until you’re in the thick of it.
But knowing someone is yours, whether just on paper or not, made it all seem like maybe, just maybe, they’d act like it.
Having a harder time controlling the sobs, I dug my face into the bed, clenching the comforter as a broken wail was muffled by the mattress. Finally letting go, I let it out. I’d have my good cry now, then tomorrow I’d speak to him like the woman I was and set some boundaries.