Forty-Four
Kat
Tonight, Tonight – The Smashing Pumpkins
For the first time in a long time, my body is quiet. It’s like the peace of the moment and Elias’ room have infiltrated my bones. I open my eyes, adjusting to the dim glow through the curtains. I feel… light. It takes a moment to realize what’s missing.
The tightness in my chest isn’t there. The chronic tension that usually coils along my shoulder blades is dulled. This must be what normal people feel like when they wake up.
I lie there for a moment, waiting for the weight to settle back into my muscles like it always does. Waiting for the heaviness that comes with years of burden.
But nothing arrives.
My lungs fill easily when I breathe in, the air moving straight through my body with no tense resistance, like something in my chest has vanished.
My thoughts move freely around my mind as memories from last night return.
I still feel like a broken doll, but I think I’ve finally found the person who can help me piece myself back together again.
I don’t want him to fix me, but he gives me the power to fix myself for me.
Last night was a big piece. Not the whole doll—not even close. But a piece.
Freddie jumps up on the bed and rubs his face against mine.
“Hello, boy,” I say, scratching his favorite spot under his chin. He purrs deeply in appreciation.
His whiskers tickle my cheek as he presses his entire weight into my face like a furry battering ram of affection.
I laugh softly. It feels… natural.
The smell of bacon from downstairs drifts into the room, making my stomach rumble.
Freddie notices at the same time because he jumps down and darts out of the room.
Off to sneak a bite while Elias isn’t looking, doubt.
His little paws skid slightly on the hardwood as he makes a sharp turn into the hallway.
I chuckle to myself and swing my legs out of bed.
The rug is warm beneath my feet, sunlight sneaking through the curtains in pale gold puddles across the floor.
For so long, all I knew was survival mode, it feels strange to be anything but.
I wiggle my toes, allowing myself to really feel things.
All my senses reawaken. I feel reawakened.
I pad over to the closet to grab one of Elias’s shirts and stop dead in my tracks.
Half of the closet has been cleared, and in its place there’s row after row of black leather and lace.
I let my hands trail over the fabric, languishing in the feel of all the different textures.
Sometime during the night, Elias must have stocked this with all the clothes that survived my apartment, which is admittedly not many.
But he’s also added new clothes, all to my style and—I check the tag on a black lace skirt—my size.
My fingers land on a skin-tight PVC dress.
Okay, I definitely didn’t own that one.
I hold it up between two fingers, raising a brow.
This can barely be considered a dress, it looks more like a second skin.
A second skin that stops just above the crotch line.
I take in the rest of the clothes, most of them still new with the tags still attached.
I’m going to have to come up here later and try everything on, piece by beautiful piece.
A strange warmth settles in my chest as I scan the closet again. There are a small number of clothes that look familiar. I pull on a black piece of fabric, bringing it to view. It’s my vintage Metallica shirt.
A lump lodges in my throat at the realization. He delved through the wreckage of my apartment to find the clothes that weren’t ruined and brought them back to me.
I settle on a ripped Motorhead shirt and denim shorts, and I pad down to the kitchen.
“Morning, beautiful,” Elias calls from the kitchen.
I walk over and wrap my arms around him, only barely being able to connect them around his stomach.
“When did you get all my clothes… and new ones?”
He huffs a laugh. “You’re an incredibly heavy sleeper.”
“Thank you.”
He leans down and presses a quick kiss to the top of my head before turning back to the stove. The casual intimacy of this whole scene sends a small flutter through my chest.
“Promise me you’ll model every single item for me. There are some pieces I cannot wait for,” he says with a devious twinkle in his eye.
I playfully swat his arm and take a seat at the island. Freddie jumps onto the counter, trying to take a bite of the bacon in the pan. Elias gives his chin a scratch and throws a treat across the room, which Freddie chases.
“Your cat is insatiable,” he says, plating up the bacon and pancakes.
He hands me a plate, and I dig in immediately. In my periphery, I catch a small smile on Elias’ face before he digs into his own food.
“What are we doing today?” I ask with a mouth full of pancake.
“We’re going to have a movie day. But I need to go to HQ later.”
“Why?” I ask, fork halfway to my mouth.
“I need to put the pressure on. We need answers for who was following you and who has taken the girls.”
I nod silently, taking another bite. The salty and sweet taste fills my mouth. The heaviness of the subject sits like a stone in my stomach before I decide to shove it aside. Not today.
“Can we watch Twilight?” I ask after a moment.
“What the fuck is that?”
“It’s a cinematic masterpiece! You’re missing out if you haven’t seen it,” I say with a laugh.
We finish our breakfast, fighting Freddie off our food before we settle down on the couch. Elias grabs my legs and swings them over his lap, tracing lazy circles on my calf. I shudder slightly at the touch, and he gives a small smile. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You’re in for a treat,” I say, pressing play on the movie.
The first words of the movie play, and Elias gives an exaggerated eye roll.
“Shh! Pay attention,” I whisper-shout at him.
Twenty minutes in, he hasn’t taken his eyes off the screen. Forty minutes in, he mutters, “Why does that guy sparkle?”
An hour in and he’s fully invested. Even if he’ll never admit it.
It’s well into the afternoon when we finish the third Twilight movie.
“I think that one was even worse than the second one,” Elias says, standing up and stretching. His arms lift over his head, and the hem of his shirt rides up slightly, exposing the sharp lines of his stomach. My mouth waters.
“Oh, shush, you didn’t look away from the screen once,” I reply, giving him a playful shove.
He huffs out a laugh and drags a hand through his hair, making the already messy strands fall deliciously around his face. He looks at his watch, and his face changes.
“I have to go, are you going to be okay by yourself? I can have someone come by?”
For a moment, I imagine spending the rest of the day alone in this massive house. A few weeks ago, that would have been comforting. Not now. Now it just feels empty and cold.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask tentatively.
“Anything,” he wraps an arm around me, pulling me close, his body warm against mine.
“Can I come with you?”
For a split second, he looks surprised. His eyebrows lift slightly, like the request genuinely caught him off guard. Then his expression changes, softening into pride. I feel it land deep in my chest. Pride.
“Of course,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
The simple acceptance sends a little thrill through me. But it doesn’t last. Panic replaces it as I catch a glimpse of myself in the window.
I can’t go to mafia HQ looking like this.
“I have to get dressed,” I rush out, making my way to the stairs.
“What you’re wearing is fine!” he shouts after me.
“If I’m going to be the girlfriend of a mafia boss, I need to dress like the girlfriend of a mafia boss!” I call out behind me. His laughter follows me up the stairs. It echoes through the house, which makes the mansion feel more alive than it did yesterday.
As I approach my new closet, I pull and tug at all the new clothes. Nothing seems right. Nothing seems enough. My hands land on the skin-tight PVC dress for the second time today, and I pause for a moment before ultimately deciding that’s not the first impression I want to make.
I pause on one dress. The dress Elias bought me before Tether’s gig. I hold it up, remembering how powerful I felt in that moment on stage in front of him. This is the fucking energy I need today. I put it on, dropping my panties to the floor, and appreciate the feel of it on my body.
I’ve missed this fucking dress.
I swipe some burgundy lipstick on my lips and tousle my hair. When I finally look at myself in the mirror, I smile.
Girlfriend of a mafia boss, indeed.