“I see,” I continue. “So since you don’t love him, why don’t you run away?”
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. She tries to pull her hand away from mine, but my grip is firm.
“You might think your silence doesn’t get me the answers I’m looking for, but you’re wrong. I can hear your thoughts. We’re connected”—I poke her temple gently—“telepathically.”
At my words, she drops her head and sighs heavily.
“Fine.” I remove the towel and begin studying her wound. “I’ll stop bothering you, for now. It doesn’t seem like you have a piece of glass stuck in there, which is good news. Do you have alcohol in here and maybe some bandage?”
She lifts her head and nods. She turns around and opens one of the vanity’s drawers. She pulls out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and hands it to me along with a piece of wrapping bandage.
Taking both items from her, I point to the sink and she brings her hand on top of it. I pour some of the rubbing alcohol on her wound, and she hisses.
“Sorry. It always stings,” I tell her before running some cold water again on her palm and wrapping the bandage around her hand.
I struggle to focus on the task as her eyes study my face keenly. Her beauty is intimidating, and I have never felt intimidated by a woman in my whole entire life until I met her.
When I finish taking care of her wound, she steps back and brings her hand to her chest. I wash my hands with soap and water before drying them out with a towel.
I then walk toward her and she takes a couple of steps backward until her back hits the wall behind her.
I place both of my palms on the wall, boxing her in, and lean closer to her face.
“I will eventually know everything about you. I suggest you stop running away from me, Puppet.”
Her cheeks instantly turn a shade pinker as anger flashes in her eyes. Her lips part and she starts breathing so heavily that I almost believe she’s about to talk, let out words that I so desperately want to hear.
But she doesn’t.
I smile at her and step out of her way.
“You don’t like that word, do you?”
I walk over to the door and unlock it.
“You hate it when he calls you with that degrading word.”
Opening the door wide, I step out of the washroom and turn to look at her one last time before heading out of this house.
“Don’t worry, I hate it too. See you soon, Katya.”
Katya
My naked body is sore underneath the sheets. And although it’s quiet right now considering the fact that Logan isn’t snoring while sleeping, my mind is all over the place, and I haven’t slept yet.
The way Connor Pierce heard my thoughts loud and clear last night is otherworldly. I mean, how could he?
The closer he got to me, the further I wanted to run away with him rather than from him. I needed his gentle touch. I wanted to get lost in his hazel eyes for a lifetime and never be found.
I craved the heat that radiated from his body like a hopeless thirsty woman on a deserted island. I haven’t felt that way in so long. I’ve been way too lost in my misery and downheartedness that I forgot that I was a woman. And just like any other woman out there, I want to be cared for, loved, and showed affection.
I shake my head at my ridiculousness and decide to go to the washroom. The moment I rise to my feet, dizziness takes hold of me and I almost fall but I steady myself on the wall to my right. I place my palm on it and lean my head on the cold surface for a moment, hoping the dizziness will fade away quickly.
When I start feeling like myself again, I walk slowly toward the bathroom. Once Logan’s friends left last night, he was so drunk he wanted nothing more but to pound inside of me with so much anger and force that I fainted for a couple of seconds before he revived me with the palm of his hand against my cheek.
And once he was done with me, he fell asleep like a baby, and I was left alone to my thoughts about Connor Pierce.
Connor.
His name reminds me of when I was in high school, wanting so desperately to get pregnant in the future and name my baby boy Connor.
My smile slips a notch at the memory. Somehow, these memories bring me sadness more than happiness. I miss the past, when everything was normal. I had a bright future and dreams that got shattered the day I met Logan.
I close my eyes and swallow down my tears. Every time these memories flood back, which happens almost every single day, my heart starts hammering in my chest it feels like it’s going to burst out of it. And my anxiety spikes like no other.
Sitting on the toilet bowl, I release the piss I’ve been holding for the past few hours as my mind drifted toward Connor.
The fact I can’t stop thinking about him means trouble. But how can I stop when he’s the first person to ever read me without me needing to speak?
I stand up, flush the toilet, and wash my hands. I wince at the wound on my palm, remembering when Connor poured alcohol on it.
“What are you doing?” Logan’s voice startles me, causing me to turn my head toward the door where he stands, tall and powerful, with his hands crossed over his chest.
He walks toward me, and just like usual, my breathing hitches.
“It’s 3 am. Go back to bed,” he orders firmly.
With my head cast down, I obey his order. And as I walk past him, he grips my forearm.
“You know, I refuse to live without you.”
He tightens the grip, and I swallow thickly.
“I love you so much, it’s maddening.”
I believe him. Every single time Logan lets out his sick words I believe him.
Not knowing how to react, I smile at him, hoping he could see how much I trust his words.
His hand reaches for my cheek and his thumb caresses my skin softly. His arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me toward him. Without giving me a warning, his mouth lands on mine, and he kisses me with force and ownership. It’s his way of showing me I can never go anywhere. I’m stuck with him for eternity, and the thought causes my body’s temperature to drop.
He pulls his head away and looks deeply into my eyes.
“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he whispers, bringing his forehead to mine and inhaling sharply while closing his eyes.
“You have no idea how much I miss hearing your voice. Fuck, I’d do anything to have you back the way you used to be.” He takes a step forward, pushing me slightly until my back is against the wall. “Pure, innocent, bubbly.”
I close my eyes as tears pool in them. The moment I feel his fingers rubbing at my entrance, I run away. This time, instead of fading away toward the blackness, the past descends on me like an avalanche.
“I’m not sure when I’m coming back, Mama. All I know is that I have to leave soon or else Mr. Williams will definitely fire me this time,” I say, blowing a kiss to my mom who’s sitting on the couch and watching her favorite show.
“God forbid, honey, don’t say that. The last thing we need is for you to lose your job. Don’t take the bus, take a cab.”
I slide my feet into my sandals and take one last look at my reflection before heading out.
“Okay I will. Bye, love you!”
Rushing out of the building, I wave to the first cab that I see on the street. He stops right in front of me and I get in the back seat.
“340 Georgia Street please,” I say and look down at the file in my hands that contains the most important information about this morning’s meeting.
I swallow my anxiety as I take a quick look at my watch. The meeting is in twenty minutes. If I don’t get there on time, Mr. Williams will definitely fire me today.
I inhale sharply and lick my dry lips. I have to find a way to force myself to stay positive. I got this. I know I do.
The moment the cab driver parks in front of the company building, I pay him and hurry out of the car toward the main entrance. I skip the elevators and take the stairs to the seventh flo
or.
Opening the door, I ignore my heaving chest and my aching body the moment I’m standing in front of the conference room table. I swallow hard at Mr. Williams’ fiery gaze as anger morphs his wrinkly face. My lips part, but before I get to apologize, he speaks.
“Hand me that file, Katya. Now,” he orders harshly, and I rush toward him. He snatches the file from my hand and I remain rooted in place beside him.
“I apologize about wasting your time, Mr. Clark. Everything you need is inside the file,” Mr. Williams says, smiling at his guest.
Mr. Williams’ gaze drifts to me and he scowls.
“Pack your stuff, you’re no longer employed here.”
My heart sinks into my stomach and without having control over myself, I say, “Please Mr. Williams. I had to help my mother—”
“I don’t want to hear it. It’s not the first time you’ve got to work late.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes and I force myself to not let them run down my cheeks. The moment I turn around to leave, a manly voice halts my steps.
“If she’s fired then we don’t have a deal, Mr. Williams,” the man says firmly, causing me to look back at him.
His eyes are on me, studying me closely. I watch in silence as he closes the file and puts it on the table.
“What do you mean, Mr. Clark?” Mr. Williams asks worriedly.
“You heard me. You just fired your assistant, didn’t you? We don’t have a deal anymore.”
Mr. Clark rises from his seat.
“Wait no, Mr. Clark, hang on a moment please. She’s not punctual, hence why I fired her. This has nothing to do with our business deal.”
Mr. Clark stares in silence at Mr. Williams for a beat. When the silence becomes too much to take, Mr. Williams decides to break it.
“Okay fine. She has her job back.” Mr. Williams’ gaze drifts to me. “Go to your desk, Katya.”
I’m about to leave when Mr. Clark’s deep voice makes me spin around and look at him.
“Not enough. Apologize to her,” he says sternly, and my cheeks turn a shade pinker.
Mr. Williams turns toward me and with nostrils flared, he does what I never thought he would do—he apologizes.
I nod. My jaw is stiff and my throat is dry, so there’s no way I could form words.
Before leaving, I look at Mr. Clark and find his eyes travelling up and down my length. As soon as his gaze meets mine, he smiles at me, and my heart skips a beat.
Connor
“What do you think you’re gonna do?” Brian asks, the expression of shock never leaving his face.
I stare at the documents in my hands. Everything about Katya Rivera is written in these pages. From the day she was born to the day she met Logan Clark. After that, though, there’s nothing about her. No job, no car tickets, nothing at all. Just blank pages that are supposed to be filled with so much information of what she keeps locked up inside of her.
“I don’t know yet,” I say, and throw the documents on my desk.
“Connor, I don’t want to be nosy, but my gut feeling is telling me you should stay the fuck away from this couple.”
I look him square in the eye.
“Really? Mr. Detective?”
“I know and I believe that she’s in danger by being with this Logan guy. But it’s not up to you to get her out of her misery. She knows she could run away. She knows she could call the cops and get his ass arrested. Maybe she doesn’t want to because she likes to be treated the way he’s treating her—”
I don’t let him finish. I bolt up and walk away before I lose it on him. How could he not see how fucked up this whole situation is? What kind of man would know of this and not do anything about it?
Brian’s heavy footsteps behind me cause me to stop and turn around swiftly to face him.
“I fucking hate the noise your shoes are making. Remove them every time you step inside this house,” I growl, and he raises his arms in the air.
Once he removes his shoes, I take the stairs down to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink to extinguish the fire that’s burning inside of me.
“Connor. I’m sorry, man. All right, just do what you gotta do,” Brian says as he steps inside the kitchen. Pouring the liquid in the glass, I ignore him and chug all of it in one gulp. Grabbing another tumbler, I pour him a glass of whiskey and hand it over to him before refilling my own.
I know Brian is just worried about me, and he doesn’t want me to get involved in a complicated web of issues that I’ll probably never be able to get out of.
“Buddy,” Brian says as he steps closer to me and pats my shoulder, “I don’t want you to be upset. But you know what happened in the past and how it ruined you. My job as your closest friend is to warn you and remind you that you need to shift your focus and notice something else other than Katya.”
“What if I don’t want to notice anybody else but her?” I hiss through gritted teeth. The rage seeping through my veins is poisoning my blood with venom.
He nods once, and sighs in defeat.
“Okay. What can I do to help then?”
I remain silent for a beat.
“I could open a file on her, and go over and say that an anonymous person made a complaint saying that there was screaming and noise coming from their house,” Brian adds before taking another sip from his glass.
“Are you stupid? She’s a mute.”
He winces.
“Oh ya, shit. I forgot about that. Fuck, that does make it harder.”
I walk away from him and stare out the window. I could barge into Logan’s house and break his bones. Maybe that would teach him a lesson. Or I could shoot him in the head and bury his useless body in the backyard.
Or I could simply take her …
Brian’s hand on my shoulder drags me away from my stormy thoughts.
“I need to go. Maria is probably losing her mind right now.”
“Thank you for everything,” I tell him honestly, because despite being annoyed at him, I know he didn’t do anything to me. The real problem is what happens behind the closed doors of my neighbors’ house.
“Keep me posted,” he says and walks away.
The moment I’m alone in the house, my twisted thoughts flood back. And as if the universe senses the rage that’s boiling in my blood, the thunder rolls and the lightning strikes. The sound is so strong and powerful that it breaks through the walls of my house and haunts me, causing me to drop the glass in my hand and watch as it shatters into a million pieces.
Bringing my hand to my ears, I cover them and squeeze my eyes shut.
Their screams …
Their voices ...
I don’t want to go back there, but as I find myself screaming like a wounded beast in horrible pain, Katya’s face haunts my thoughts, and I breathe out smoothly, grateful that it wasn’t them who occupied my thoughts.
I focus on her big, dark-brown eyes. The curve of her smile, the fresh smell of her shampoo in her long, raven hair. And I’m suddenly at peace as I open my eyes and look out the window. The thunder is gone and now it’s raining hard. And as much as I would love to hear the sound of rain droplets as they hit the ground and water Earth, unfortunately, my soundproof house isn’t allowing me to.
I should go after Mr. Hewitt for promising me that I wouldn’t hear anything while I’m inside my house. But now that I have met the woman who lives across, I don’t think I’ll ever leave unless she decides to come with me.
I want her. I want her secrets and her darkest thoughts. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.
* * *
Katya
A week has passed, and Connor has been on my mind every single day. Especially when I look down at my palm and see the scar. Logan has been very busy lately with work, which is good and bad at the same time. The good thing about it is that he leaves the house early and comes back late, giving me enough time to reflect and enjoy my alone time. The bad thing about it is that he’s usually in a very bad mood a
nd I’m always the one to pay for it.
Last night he punched me right in the gut and I thought I was going to die. I blacked out and he brought me back to life by pouring cold water on my whole body. I need to find a new way of mentally running away from him.
And I need to find it as soon as possible.
The door opens with a simple click, and I don’t have to turn around to find out that he’s standing at the kitchen door, staring at me with blazing fire in his eyes. Because I can practically feel him shooting daggers at me while I wash the last dish all calmly and silently.
“Puppet,” he says, making me flinch as I turn around and face him. His hair is a mess and his tie is loose around his neck. He doesn’t look happy and I know I’m about to pay for his stress and anguish.
“I’m fucking hungry. It’s been a long day. Why isn’t dinner on the table?” he asks, taking a step toward me.
I smile at him and nod before pulling the chicken out of the oven. But I don’t get to finish what I’m doing before he fists my hair and forces me to look up into his face.
“How many times did I tell you that when I come back home after a long day of work, I expect dinner to be already on the table, and you waiting for me with one of your beautiful smiles, wearing one of the dresses that I have bought for you?”
But you came back early? And it’s ready. I’m about to set up dinner on the table for you.
I look at him, unmoving and waiting for the blow to hit me when I least expect it.
I remain silent as always, and stare into his unforgiving eyes.
I fall to the ground when his knee hits my gut and I see stars. I almost throw up the bagel I had this morning but I swallow it down and wait for the next blow while struggling to run away from him toward my safety net.
“You just never fucking learn,” he hisses before he punches my stomach. I wince, wishing nothing more but to let out the scream that’s stuck in the back of my throat.
I close my eyes and allow the blackness to engulf me. I think of my mother and without having any control over my face expressions, I find myself smiling.
Dirty Puppet Page 3
