by Piper Malone
She absorbs the words, her eyes shut against the onslaught of my emotion. Kat inhales deeply as if willing herself to be calm. “Do you know where she got that scar from?” she asks.
“What scar?” The strangeness of Kat’s question takes me off guard. I tried to get her to tell me what was happening for over an hour. “Skyler was in the room when I got there. She requested that I remove the wrap after she was restrained. I had to strip her from behind so I didn’t see her body.” I pause for a minute; her limits seem odd now that I think about them. “I’ve watched her scene before. I couldn’t figure out why she was so guarded. I just wanted the chance to try to figure out what was going on with her so I didn’t question anything.”
Kat’s expression tells me she knows more but, the way her plush mouth is pressed shut, I’m not going to know anything else.
She sighs and shoves her hands in her back pockets. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” She glances around the room, sucking in a shuddering breath before uttering, “It kills me that I’m scared.”
“My hope is that, with time, you won’t be.”
“But, until then, you’ll find someone else? I can’t accept that, Blake.”
I grip the back of my neck, trying to rub the pain and aggravation out of my muscles. “Kat, can you tell me what the block is? If I know what the issue is, maybe I can understand your hesitation.”
I see the war battling inside her. Part of me doesn’t want to know. The rest of me wants to tie her down and torture her in the most deviant ways until she tells me everything.
“I’m afraid you’ll look at me differently if you know.”
How can the woman I love so much doubt me at every turn? Because she just caught you with a naked woman. “I will always see you as my island paradise, doll. You are my safe haven from all the craziness of the world.”
She shakes her head, her features conveying that she doesn’t believe a word I’ve just said.
“If that was true, today wouldn’t have been a surprise.” She holds up her hand to stop me from defending myself. “What I saw today is unsettling. It scared me.” She hesitates, eyes trained on her fingers. “It also made me curious.”
The crack in her resolve is the moment I’ve been waiting for. “What made you curious?”
“You.” Kat can’t look at me. “The whip scared me.”
“I don’t usually work with whips. I prefer crops and floggers. Skyler requested it. I think she needed a reminder of Nick.”
She nods, looking at everything in the room except me. Her eyes roll back as if she is simultaneously battling and accepting the words. Three deep breaths and what feels like years of silence pass before she appears to resign herself to opening the floodgates. “Fine, you want it, here it is,” she says with tight, clipped words.
“When we immigrated my family had no money so we lived with my dad’s family for years before being able to afford our own home. My parents, Babu, Mika, and I lived with my uncle, aunt, and their son in a two-bedroom home. My uncle is an alcoholic, even for an old-school Russian. Bulbous nose, veins popping against his skin.” Her body shakes as she relays the image of him. “He would get rough with my aunt at least a couple times a week. On most occasions, I could hide until it was over. Once I was too big to fit under the bed, I would get on my bike and ride around the neighborhood until I knew the coast was clear. After more than one event, I found her unconscious on the floor.”
Never in a million years would I have guessed she lived with an abusive man. Her father may be been a pompous stuffed shirt, but I never imagined he would allow his daughter to witness abuse. Or was it worse than just watching? “Did he ever hurt you, Kat?”
She shakes her head, shrugging off the question. “My aunt meant nothing to him. He made that fact abundantly clear. He was equally nasty to my cousin, Artur, unless he was helping to abuse my aunt. Once I tried to step in and deflect Artur from getting rough with his mother. Unfortunately, that’s when he began to target me. I was fat, useless, and stupid in the eyes of my uncle and cousin. At six, I was a whore.”
“Holy fuck,” I mutter, the tension in Kat’s household becoming clear. “Where were your parents? Babu?”
“Babu was there, but Artur was sneaky. My parents attended classes. The whole point of us coming to the States was to get the education we couldn’t in Russia. My mother flourished. My father got a great job after a year of school and they were happy. I think they thought by showing what hard work and education could do, my uncle and aunt would see the light. My parents stayed focused on achieving the American dream and my uncle drank our homeland dry.”
“How old was your cousin?”
“Thirteen.” She pauses, looking around the room before continuing. “A lot of what he did was under the radar. He would threaten to hurt my mom and dad. He told me he’d kill Babu and make it look like my fault. It was the same shit I heard my uncle say to my aunt just modified to terrorize me. He was a parrot. There is part of me that tries to hope he didn’t truly understand what he was doing.”
“Don’t defend him, Kat. What he did was despicable.” Her rationalization only fires me up. They hurt her. Damaged her view of relationships and marriage.
“What my uncle did was contemptible. My cousin learned from him to hurt women for fun.” Kat hesitates, closes her eyes and inhales deeply before continuing.
“One day, I came home and heard my aunt crying. I figured it was more of the same routine; they got into a fight, he hit her, she cried, and then everyone would put on a happy face for dinner and ignore her black eye. I didn’t hear my uncle in the house so I tried to get to my room and change before he either came back or sobered up. When I passed their room, the door was open. She was lying on the floor in a ball. Her hands and ankles were bound with electrical tape.” The last sentence is a whisper, Kat’s voice trailing off into the vision of the memory. Even in the dim light of the room, I can see her eyes shimmer with tears. “He wrapped the tape around her head to gag her mouth.” Her voice cracks as tears spill over her cheeks.
Her pain rips me in two. I wanted to know, but not like this. Not at the expense of her emotional well-being. “Kat,” I kneel at her feet, covering her hands with mine, “you are so brave for telling me this. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Her head wobbles on her neck. “I know this story, Blake. I’ve relived it a million times. It’s just not one that I tell often.” Her breath catches. “I’m so fucking pissed that what he did to her makes me question you. It’s so stupid that I can’t get past this block. I know what he is. I know what you are.” She chokes a sob into her hands. “I-I just see her and it kicks up emotions I can’t deal with.”
It’s the most real she’s been since we started dating. Kat is crying, raw and uninhibited by the barriers that have kept her at a distance.
“Fuck!” she screams, as she wipes away tears. “I hate crying!”
I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as her. She’s perfect. A cursing, crying, wild-haired, vulnerable, and honest woman. And she’s talking.
“It’s okay if you cry, doll. I’m not bothered by that.”
Her eyes roll, face contorts with disgust. “It’s uncomfortable for me, Blake. I don’t cry in front of people.”
“I accept that and I’m honored you feel comfortable enough to trust me with your tears. Can you tell me more?”
Kat nods, the resolve of her decision to talk shining through the bedroom.
“I’m not sure where he got it from but there was a switch in the room. Her back and rear end were covered in thick, raised welts and cuts. My uncle left it in the room where she could see it.”
The image Kat painted in my mind is only a fraction of the horror she must have seen. “How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
Young enough to have a fairy-tale fantasy yet old enough to know what she was looking at. If I ever meet that son of a bitch or his worthless son…
“She was in
so much pain. I was able to get her hands and feet free, but she struggled to stand up straight. The tape ripped the skin around her mouth and pulled out her hair. She tried to wash herself but the water touching her back made her scream. I wanted to run, but I felt like I couldn’t leave her.” Kat’s recall of the event flows, her eyes fixed on her lap, fingers tangling together.
“She begged me not to say anything, but I knew it was wrong. I told my parents and Babu everything as soon as they got home.”
“But, that’s good,” I offer. “That’s what you should have done.”
Her lips press together, her head shaking, fresh tears spilling forward.
“What happened then?”
“I-I just wanted to her to be safe, but it blew everything out of the water. My dad confronted my uncle, who defended his actions by stating she wasn’t a good wife. My aunt cornered me the next day and slapped me so hard my lip split. She called me an ignorant pig for trying to take away her chance at freedom in the States.” Kat pauses, breathing through the memory. “My parents saw my lip and I had to tell them she hit me. Babu lost her mind on both of them and things quieted down.” She levies a sarcastic snort. “I think my aunt would have endured anything to not have to go back to Russia.”
“Did your uncle move out?”
“Sort of. I’m not aware of any conversations that happened after he was confronted, but things changed. Artur’s taunts were less intense and my uncle kept to himself until he found out my aunt was pregnant.”
“His?”
“That’s what she said, conceived when he forced himself on her while she was taped up.” She pauses, watching the scene play out in her mind. “My aunt defended herself, eventually yelling that he raped her.” Kat’s eyes look distant, her voice falling away in the memory. “He pushed her down the stairs. I saw her hit the floor at the bottom of the steps.”
Her words stun me, my mouth hanging open to try to form a word that will help absolve her pain, remove the memories from her mind. Before I can try to offer anything, she continues.
“My aunt was admitted to the hospital with a broken collarbone and miscarried a day later. While she was still recovering, my uncle returned to Russia with Artur. We had no prior notice, just a note on the counter. When my parents went to pick my aunt up from the hospital a few days later, the nurse told them she signed discharge papers and got a cab. We never heard from her again.”
“Kat…” my hands pull through my hair, “I don’t know what to say.”
She chuckles a dark laugh. “There is nothing to say, Blake. It’s a fact in my history. I have no way to change what happened. I just have to manage my responses to the memories and feelings. I know logically that everything I witnessed was wrong but no one talked about it. My family woke up the day after she disappeared and never said another word about it. I still had thoughts and questions that no one addressed. It was so strange.”
“And now? Does your family talk about it?”
“Nope. In the years that passed, the more I thought about what happened, the angrier I got. They don’t know all the things that Artur said to me because what happened was never discussed after they left. I was asked if they ever hit me, but that’s where it ended. I always felt like I was left to fend for myself.
“They never educated me about good and bad relationships. No one admitted that what happened to my aunt was wrong. They never talked to me about sex, but made it clear that someday I would need to get married and have children. My mother didn’t have ‘the talk’ with me even when I asked questions. When I went to college, I was curious.” She gives me a devilish grin. “Freshman year is when I started understanding sexuality and how much I enjoyed being a woman. But the thoughts lingered. I struggled with feeling like a whore when I found out that I liked sex because of the taunts I heard. I worried that Yuri and Artur would pop up and somehow discredit every academic achievement I ever made with their vicious words. I struggled for a long time wondering if the person I would ultimately choose to be with would be like my uncle.” She gives me a sideways glance before continuing. “So I decided I would never put myself in that situation.”
“You’re never going to put yourself in what situation, Kat?”
“One where I was dependent on someone,” she says.
“So, because your uncle was an abusive, alcoholic asshole, you’re never going to try to seriously commit to anyone?” If I’m connecting the dots correctly, this conversation is only going one place. “Are you planning on ending this, Kat?”
“I’m not sure what I’m thinking, Blake. I’m just letting you know where my thoughts come from. I’m not saying my stance has never wavered, but it’s usually where my thoughts reside. I know you would never abuse someone, but the idea of giving myself over to someone, physically and emotionally, scares me. I’ve worked very hard to manage my feelings and a lot of it I did on my own. I am honest in that there are moments in my life where I still struggle. I will also be clear when I say I haven’t thought about these things as much as I have since we started dating. I worked hard to be in control of those demons but they haunt me in weak moments. When I am stressed or vulnerable, they bubble up. It’s going to be a challenge for me to give myself over to you, even for the briefest period of time. I’ve never given up control, and I’m not sure that I can. I also don’t know that I can trust that you won’t find someone to fill the void even if you try to be patient.”
“Do you think I would ever hurt you?”
“Not physically, but seeing you with her today is a deep cut, Blake.”
I’d be happy to pay that penance for years if she’ll just stay. “Would I ever degrade you?”
“No,” she says without pause.
“Do you think we’re good together, Kat?”
A moment ago, she said the words I’ve been dying to hear. That, despite the challenge, she is curious. Now her hesitation is a knife to my gut. Her blue eyes hold my gaze, her long throat swallowing down the words I see written all over her face.
“Some parts of us are very good,” she whispers. Her face says it all. The glance toward the door screams her ultimate decision. “I don’t think I can do this, Blake.”
My words push past the tightness in my throat. “Doll, you can’t mean that.”
“Did you intend to tell me about the honor bondage?”
Stunned by her words, the truth fights with the urge to shift her line of thought. “I can see how you would think that—”
“It’s a simple yes or no, Blake.” She stands, putting space between us, her arms crossed. “Was it your intention to coerce me into an honor bondage scene for your own benefit?”
This conversation is painful. There’s too much emotion and not enough time. “I thought we were having fun, Kat. There’s a difference between an agreed upon scene and good old-fashioned kinky sexy.” Her conclusions are insane. Her thoughts about how I would treat her are insulting. “From what I remember, you enjoyed yourself too.”
“That’s not the point, Blake! You can’t impart your will on someone without telling them what you’re doing!”
“You never told me there was an issue, Kat! I can’t clarify things if you don’t talk to me. You’re mad at me but you’ve been just as deceitful. Did you talk to Ax about this before me?
She can’t look at me, her pale cheeks turning pink. “You’re unbelievable,” I mutter.
“I’m not saying that I’ve done everything right, Blake.” Her voice cracks over the words. “I like being your girlfriend, but I’m afraid this only has one outcome. Not telling you the truth would set us both up for disaster. I think we should consider saving ourselves months of this same conversation when we can both guess how it will end.”
No way. She’s not getting out of this without a fight. “I don’t accept that ultimatum.”
She snorts an angry, tired laugh. “Well, I don’t accept the events that led up to you being in the presence of a naked and restrained woman.” She starts to move an
d I can’t react fast enough to block her before she reaches the door. “I need to go, Blake.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to walk out of here?” This can’t be happening. She just told me everything and she’s not willing to stay to work through the shit.
“For now, I think it’s best.”
Her calm resolve is worse than hearing her scream. The fact that she can just walk out of here without a second glance is infuriating. This day has turned into a festering shit pile and now she’s running. My fear that she’s actually leaving me is held back by the blistering rage in my gut. But there’s nothing I can do.
“If that’s your decision, then you should leave.” I don’t want to sound like a dick, but this conversation is ridiculous. If Kat believes I’ll let her slip away like nothing happened between us, she’s in for a rude awakening.
Seconds after the door latches behind her, one of the wooden chairs tucked in the corner of the room lands in a splintered heap on the floor.
Chapter 23
Kat
The overpowering, unrestrained, air-gulping sobs started the moment I got to my condo. I sat on the subway with my shaky hands covering my face. Did I just break up with the only man I’ve ever loved? How can I love a man who was with a naked woman? The sound of unattractive crying hasn’t stopped since I locked the door behind me.
For over an hour, I’ve battled an emotional ping-pong match. I’m relieved that Blake knows about Yuri and Artur. The worry that he might feel desire for Sky is a blinding pain. But then I think about Skyler and that scar. I wonder how long Nick has held onto his feelings for her. She and Nick were equally raw, each trying to hide something from the other that never should have been denied. But if they shouldn’t have denied their feelings for each other, why should I run from my feelings for Blake? When I replay the events, I picture myself in Skyler’s place and a shimmery warmth consumes my belly.
