Dirty Puppet

by Richards, S. S.

  I rise from my seat and pick up my plate and drop it in the sink before turning around and facing her. Her silence is already getting to me, but I don’t show her that. The last thing I want is to scare her.

  “I’m used to silence, Katya. In fact, it’s the only thing I love and crave daily. But I can guarantee you that your eyes speak everything your mouth doesn’t.”

  I approach her and lean over until my face is inches away from hers. My body instantly stiffens with the obsessive need to touch her in places I shouldn’t. To have her writhe underneath my body while moans of pleasure erupt from her throat.

  “I hear your screams and feel your heartbeat every time you’re around me. You might think you’re hiding things away from me by refusing to write down whatever I want you to tell me, but I’m slowly getting to it.”

  With those words, I leave the kitchen with my obsession sitting on the chair and head outside of the house so I can be in court in exactly thirty minutes.

  Katya

  There had to be a reason why some people go through the things they go through in their lives, and others just have it perfect. When I first met Logan, which was the day he saved me from losing my job, my life was never the same after. He pursued me around. He was the gentleman that I so desperately fell head over heels for. I loved him blindly and that was the beginning of the end for me. He showered me with gifts and showed my mother so much love and caring my heart was convinced he was the one.

  But then everything turned into a nightmare. The first time he put his hands on me will forever be glued to my memory.

  “Puppet, hand me the salt please,” Logan says, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at him before handing him the salt. He knows I don’t like to be called by that word. It’s degrading and especially when he does it in front of his friends. I simply cannot stand it.

  “So Katya,” Mr. Devon interrupts my thoughts, “you’re an assistant, correct?”

  I smile at him. This man is friendly and always gives me good vibes.

  “Yes, I am. But Logan doesn’t want me to work for Mr. Williams anymore, so I’m gonna be quitting soon.”

  Mr. Devon smiles back. He’s charming and if I’m not mistaken, I have heard Logan say that he’s in his late forties. If that’s the case, the man doesn’t look his age at all. He looks younger than all the men at this table.

  “Good for you. I heard Mr. Williams is hard to work with. If you want, I am looking for an assistant currently, as mine is going on maternity leave and I don’t honestly think she’ll be back anyway,” he explains, and lifts his whiskey glass off the table to take a sip, his eyes never leaving me.

  I swallow thickly, and drift my gaze to my plate for a brief moment before answering him.

  “I … Thank you. Why not?” I say, swiping my sticky palm on my dress. I’m close to bursting with nervous energy as I feel Logan’s fiery gaze on me, but I ignore it.

  “Great. Come by on Monday, we’ll talk then.”

  I nod my agreement, keeping my gaze glued to the plate before me. Once the conversation officially ends, and someone else brings up another subject, I dare to look at Logan.

  His jaw clenches, and sweat beads his forehead as he shoots me daggers. It’s not the first time he’s gotten jealous. But it’s the first time I’ve felt the dark energy radiating from his body and engulfing me.

  Logan rises from his seat and I look up at him.

  “Sorry, gentlemen, but I think I’m heading home.” He offers his hand out to me and I place my shaky palm in it.

  “Early night for you?” Mr. Devon asks.

  “Yes it is. Have a great night, everybody,” Logan says, and rushes out of the restaurant. I struggle to keep up to his speed with my heels as he pulls me hurriedly. His grip is firm and I almost wince at the pain he’s causing me.

  As soon as we get to the car, he doesn’t look at me as he opens the passenger’s door and motions for me to get inside.

  I remain quiet. My armpits are sweaty and my body feels cold with anxiety. He’s pissed at me. I can feel it. It’s not the first time, and I know he’ll probably be yelling all the way to his place.

  I mentally prepare myself to listen to all his mean words and make it up to him as soon as he’s finished by promising him that he’s the only man I love. The only man my heart beats wildly for.

  He gets in the driver’s seat and surprisingly remains silent for a couple of minutes. I debate whether I should say something or not. So as I’m about to ask him if he’s okay, he finally breaks the deadly silence.

  “I saw how you were talking to him. I saw how his eyes were eating you. He was thinking of having you in his bed. He was fantasizing about getting in-between your legs,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

  I close my eyes for a brief moment and breathe in deeply. I hate going down this road with him. I hate the fact that he dares to compare himself to any other man out there. If he only could trust me when I say he’s the one for me. I would never dare look at someone else. My heart and my soul belong to Logan.

  “Baby, I don’t care about anybody else but you. You know this,” I say gently, and cup his free hand while his other one grips the steering wheel with force.

  I try to hide my fear. I struggle to keep my breathing even. Why does it feel like something bad is about to happen?

  I don’t see it coming. I don’t know how it happened, but he grips my hair so hard, and slams my head against the window to my right. The last thing I see before blacking out are his evil eyes, wide and bloodshot with the amount of fury that’s boiling in his blood.

  “Good evening.” The voice, rich and deep, drags me from my memory. I turn my head toward the door where Connor stands tall and still, leaning against the doorframe as he regards me with narrowed eyes.

  He points at the dinner on the table.

  “What’s all this?”

  I made dinner for us …

  His eyebrows furrow, looking all serious and not impressed at all. He takes a step forward, and putting both his hands in his pockets, he says, “I didn’t ask you to make me dinner. I don’t expect anything from you.”

  What do you mean? I’m … I’m confused …

  He sighs heavily as he takes a seat at the table.

  “I’m not him. I don’t want you to cook for me. You’re not my maid.”

  I look down as embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. I have gotten so used to making dinner, cleaning the house, and making sure everything was done and ready before Logan got home that I’m not thinking correctly.

  But still, does he really have to be so rude about it?

  I pick up the roasted chicken plate off the table, and as I’m heading over to the garbage so I can dump it all in it, he grips my forearm, and I flinch out of habit.

  He instantly removes his hand and closes his eyes for a beat before re-opening them again.

  “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean to sound rude. I just don’t want you to think that I expect anything from you.”

  He lifts my chin up so my eyes meet his. “I’m not him, Katya. I’ll never make you do things you don’t want to do. The food does look tempting though, and I am hungry. Shall we?” he asks, grabbing the plate from my hand and setting it back on the table.

  I follow him and seat myself. I watch as he serves himself and serves me as well. Logan has never done that.

  “I didn’t know you were an amazing cook. This does smell heavenly.”

  He takes a bite and narrows his eyes.

  “It tastes even better.”

  A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips, but I quickly turn the other way and start digging into my plate, hoping he didn’t see it.

  I haven’t had anybody compliment me in so long that I forgot the butterflies that usually come with the feeling of being someone other than just a puppet.

  I close my eyes for a moment when her face pops in my head, and a wave of nausea hits me. I can’t stay here. I can’t fucking stay with Connor no m
atter how bad I want to.

  Panicked and frustrated, I bolt up and head outside of the kitchen.

  “Katya, wait.” His voice, deep and rich, resonates off the walls of the hallway as his footsteps approach me from behind. He grips my forearm and turns me toward him. He cups both my cheeks with his warm palms and forces my eyes to stay pinned on his.

  “What. Is. It?” he asks. His eyes are wide and curious as they search my face for any sign that could get him inside of my head. Anything that can explain to him why I can’t stay. Why I can’t run away. Why I’ll forever be Logan’s dirty puppet.

  “Tell me, Katya. Fucking tell me what he has on you. Your silence isn’t helping the situation or helping me get you out of this mess,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

  My heart hammers in my chest, wanting to fly out of it. Tears burn the back of my throat as I force myself not to let them roll down my cheeks. My body is cold, and in desperate need of his warm touch.

  Once my silence becomes too much for him to bear, he breathes a heavy sigh and kisses me softly on my forehead. The act is gentle and sweet and everything I have longed for. When he pulls away, his eyes look into my soul, and without having any control over my tears, one of them rolls down my cheek and he catches it with his thumb.

  As we stand here, lost in our downheartedness, I realize I’m not the only one who’s broken. I’m not the only one who has demons that haunt her. He does too, and I wish I knew what his demons whisper to him in his darkest moments. I wish I knew what kept him awake at night when sleep becomes an understatement.

  I wish he would stop trying to save me. I wish he didn’t feel responsible for my lowness of spirits.

  It happens so fast; he leans down and presses his lips against mine, and I feel his whole body loosen. The kiss is passionate, hungry, and slow, but it’s comforting in many ways that words could never be.

  I let myself go, and kiss him with everything in me. I kiss him with my heart and my mind. I kiss him with my pain and desire all at once. I melt into him and cease to exist for a moment.

  I can feel the beating of his heart against my chest. I run my hand down his spine and pull him even closer until there is absolutely no space left between us.

  The kiss goes on and on, relieving us of our darkest thoughts.

  When he pulls away, his chest is heaving, and glistening sweat beads his forehead. Connor is handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expression of his voice.

  I look into his eyes, practically looking straight into his soul, and I revel in the softness and rawness of his gaze.

  “You have no idea how bad I want to get inside your head,” he whispers against my lips, leaning his forehead against mine and inhaling sharply.

  I swallow thickly.

  You don’t want to get inside there. It’s dark, tainted, and ugly …

  I take a step back, feeling the heat and comfort radiating from his body as it shields me and protects me from harm. It’s no doubt that being with Connor means safety. But it’s only my safety that he’s able to provide. I have bigger responsibilities. Bigger things to take care of than just sit here and live my life with him like there isn’t something even more important waiting for me back at Logan’s.

  I swirl around and hurry toward the door. I expect him to stop me. I expect him to grab me and lose his shit on me as I make my way out of his house.

  But he doesn’t.

  Once my palm is on the doorknob, I dare to look back at him.

  His eyes are darker, and the disappointment is so obvious on his face, making his forehead wrinkle, his jaw tense, and his nostrils flare.

  My gaze travels down to his hands that are balled into fists. He’s angry at me. Angry that I can’t stay here with him and let him protect me.

  I just wish it was easy …

  “Katya, I promise I can protect you. You don’t have to go back. Tell me what it is and I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

  My heart breaks into a million pieces as his words reverberate off the corners of my mind. Maybe if I convince myself that Connor is bad, I will be able to get him off my mind and I will for sure convince myself that nobody can save me.

  Only I can make a difference. Only I can save her.

  Katya

  I’ve left safety and I’m on my way back to hell.

  I stand for a moment in front of Logan’s house. Preparing myself for whatever abuse he’s going to inflict on me. It’s not the first time I’ve run away from him.

  And he knows that no matter where I go, I always find my way back to him. Simply because I have no choice.

  I ring the doorbell, and my heart starts thumping harder in my chest.

  A couple seconds go by before he opens the door. And once his eyes land on me, he smirks.

  “Done whoring around?” he asks in a mocking voice, and pulls me with force inside the house.

  Once he locks the door, he pushes me against it, and snakes his meaty palm around my neck. I suck in a breath before he squeezes tightly.

  “Where the fuck were you?” he bites out, and I remain silent as always.

  Even if I could speak, I wouldn’t tell him I was at Connor’s house. I wouldn’t admit to him that he found me, saved me, and kissed me like he’s been starving for me.

  Logan squeezes even more, and tingles spread all over my head. It’s getting even harder to breathe by the second, and I know he’s probably gonna end up knocking me out. Only then I can regain a little bit of the peace and safety that I so desperately need.

  “Okay, well let me show you what I’ve missed and needed but you weren’t here to give me,” he hisses through clenched teeth as he releases his grip around my neck. He then begins rubbing his hardness against my stomach.

  The act is gut-wrenching, and I find myself swallowing down the bile that keeps rising up my throat.

  The truth is I still have cramps from losing the baby as well as some spotting here and there. I’m in no mental or physical state to give myself to him. But I can’t stop him.

  I close my eyes as he drags me upstairs to our bedroom. Once we’re inside, he pushes me on the bed and he starts undressing.

  “I almost ended her. If you hadn’t come back she would have been dead,” he hisses, and I swallow down my tears.

  Fear’s tearing at my chest. I believe him when he says he almost killed her. I know he’s capable of it, and the day I leave for good, she will become a dead woman.

  “Undress,” he orders, and I obey.

  With quivering hands, I take off my dress while lying down on the soft duvet. Once I’m naked, I revel in the coldness of the material underneath me.

  It feels good against my body and the bruises that haven’t healed yet.

  “One baby lost,” he says as he gets on top of me and buries his head in the crook of my neck. “Another one will come.” He places a kiss on my skin, and I can’t help the burning sensation that his kiss causes.

  He rips my bra in half, then does the same for my panties. His dry fingers search my entrance, and I begin fading away toward the blackness. Searching for a getaway. Somewhere I can bury myself until he’s done with me. I think of my mother’s face and I smile. Slowly but surely, my spirit flies away from him.

  I stop feeling his fingers as he drives them inside of me savagely, and I just keep focusing on my mother’s face as she smiles while preparing food in the kitchen for the both of us.

  But then a random noise disturbs my daze, dragging me back to the present.

  The doorbell.

  Someone is ringing the doorbell.

  I glance at Logan who’s frowning, disappointment clear on his face.

  “Who the fuck is ringing the doorbell at this time?” he bites out as he pulls his fingers out of me and starts dressing quickly.

  The moment he leaves the room, I put on my gown and follow him down the stairs.

  When I reach the landing, I stare ahead as Logan opens the door wide. And when I see him, my heart gallops, and
goosebumps spread all over my damaged body.

  “Mr. Pierce, what can I do for you?” Logan asks, but Connor’s eyes are on me as he regards me from a distance.

  “Logan. Do you mind giving me a hand?” Connor asks, his eyes glued to me, breathing heavily as if he has just run a marathon. His hair is a mess on the top of his head, and the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone. He looks like a god, and the memory of our kiss instantly floods back, making me wish I could go back to that moment and live in it for eternity.

  “Sure. What do you need?” Logan asks as he leans down and starts putting on his shoes.

  “Just to pick up some wood I have in the garage please.”

  Connor’s eyes travel up and down my length. He might never know it, but he just saved me from Logan.

  “Puppet.” Logan’s voice drags me from my dreamy thoughts about Connor. “Go put on some clothes, you’re coming with me while I help Mr. Pierce.”

  I nod and go upstairs quickly. I change into a black shirt and blue jeans and go back downstairs where I find both men waiting for me, their eyes studying me intently.

  One of them has me. The other one wants me. And I’m just a lost butterfly in the midst of chaos.

  * * *

  Connor

  I don’t even know what I’m doing. The moment she left my house, I couldn’t think properly. I felt like the world was tumbling down on me and I could barely do anything to save myself. I couldn’t breathe while she went back to him, so I chugged half a bottle of whiskey, and made my way over to their house.

  “Doing renovations or what?” Logan asks as he picks up a piece of wood and places it on the other side of the garage.

  I ponder what to tell him, because up until a couple minutes ago, I didn’t know this wood was even in my garage.

  “Yeah, sort of,” I lie to him while trying to keep my cool as Katya stands still like a statue beside him.