The quickened breath and cast-down eyes cut her to the core. “I'm sorry,” whispered Karielle, her lip trembling. “I've tried as hard as I can.”
Soris wanted to hit her own forehead. Stupid. Everything she did hurt this girl. “It's not you,” she harrumphed, hating to admit her failure.
Karielle sat up. “Then why?” The softness of the dark shaded Soris from her gaze, for which she gave thanks. Karielle's ability to read emotions never ceased to unnerve her.
“Because you want a child.”
The bluntness of her answer surprised both of them. Karielle put her hands in her lap, but her voice remained calm. “I do. But you promised I can work. I'm starting with the nuevets next week if the Bastil gives permission.”
Soris raised her hands in silent prayer. “It's my job to support us,” she countered. “You have enough to do around the house, and you shouldn't have to earn money.”
Karielle sighed, pulling the bedclothes to the side. “We made the deal, didn't we? I work, and you ask for an exemption from parenthood.”
Soris nodded, but she stayed near the doorframe. She shouldn't give into weakness, but the thought of Karielle working on the front lines of violence struck terror in her heart. “But you're not happy,” she accused. “You'll obey, but you don't like it.” Novia would chastise her for caring whether Karielle liked it, but she didn't know how it felt to watch her Nur choose between the two things she held most dear.
Karielle moved toward her, but she stopped when Soris held up her hand. “I understand I have to obey,” she agreed. “Obedience is not the same as liking something.”
Soris gave a helpless shrug. “How can you love me when I say you can't have what you want?”
“Well, I didn't like you very much when you made me choose between a child and a job,” Karielle admitted. “I still don't like it, but you are my Dis. If you say no, you must have a reason.” The trust shining on her face, bathed in moonlight, pierced Soris' guilty conscience, and she sat on the bed with a groan. She had taught Karielle to obey her, but had she proven herself worthy of that trust? A small hand reached out and grabbed hers, and it squeezed gently.
“I want you.” The echo of the words from the night Karielle had lain limp on the ground seemed out of place in their bedroom, but they brought back the onslaught of emotions. Realizing she could never do her duty, not if it meant keeping Karielle out of her heart. Admitting her guilt for failing as a Dis. Showing weakness at needing her Nur, rather than providing for her every need.
“I couldn't bear it,” she choked out, and Karielle's arms came around her. Great, silent sobs wracked her body, and she fought the heaving emotion. “You'll get killed the first time you go out as a First Responder, and I'll be left with a baby and I hate babies. They're noisy and messy and...”
As if she were the Dis—no, because she was the Nur, Karielle slid down and brought Soris to lie next to her. “I want a child,” she agreed. “I won't die the first time I go out as a First Responder, if I even pass all the nuevet tests.” No one could have guessed regret from the serenity in her voice. “There will be other ways.”
Ashamed, yet oddly relieved, Soris breathed in and out. How had Karielle grown in the few short months of their marriage? Where was the girl who would run home crying to her parents after a punishment?
“I thought the Dis had to be strong,” Soris said to herself, but Karielle heard. She gave a low laugh that carried in the twilight.
“To love is the greatest strength,” she said, and for the first time in her life Soris understood. Novia, who rarely punished, would probably take the stick to her even as a married adult if she knew how Soris had changed, but then came the blinding realization.
“I want you,” she said.
“I’m so glad,” Karielle answered, and they lay together in the darkness. After a few moments, she spoke with hesitation. “Maybe not right away, but after I get settled as a First Responder, if I get in—”
“You’ll get in,” Soris responded. No one could stand in Karielle’s way, not even Soris. If Karielle obeyed Soris, it was because she chose to of her own free will, not because Soris could make her. “They’d be a fool to reject you.”
Karielle dipped her head in that adorable, shy way she had of receiving a compliment. Soris reminded herself to make Karielle do it more often. “Maybe later, we could talk about a child then?” Soris remained quiet for so long Karielle spoke up, “I don’t mean to question your decision.”
“Yes,” Soris answered. “I don’t want a child, but if it’s still this important to you after a few years, we’ll talk about it.”
Weak, Dis Novia would have said. But Soris knew differently. This was what it meant to love.
OCTOBER SOMETHING
By Jade Cary
Chapter 1
October 20
Kathryn Bates-Barrington unfolded herself from her 2014 Lexus LS 600, clutching the documents that would give her freedom. She wanted them out of her hands and into his as quickly as possible.
Kate entered the modern glass building through the modern glass doors and took the modern glass elevator to the eighteenth floor, the modern glass design reflective of him—breathtaking and pretentious. The elevator doors opened onto an expansive reception area with the view of the park and beyond evident through every window, which could be seen through every office. The reception desk, minus a receptionist, was a custom made amoeba-shaped teakwood-topped marvel stained golden amber. It sat on mahogany columns spread far apart so the first thing guests saw when they came out of the elevators were Candy’s long, lean legs. Above the desk, brass letters announced the law offices of Barrington, Strutts, and Cash. Below those letters, set into the teak-paneled walls, was a tropical aquarium, backlit in undulating turquoise. While the entire floor—every office, every conference room, and even the bathrooms were her doing—the addition of the aquarium was all Jack. Although Kate Barrington shied away from giving her future ex-husband too many atta-boys, the stunning addition was nothing short of brilliant. Even Candy paled in comparison. If I had the energy, she thought as she waited for the receptionist, I’d take it in the divorce.
****
Jack Barrington stood in his office beyond the reception area and stared at his soon-to-be ex-wife. As soon as Kate had been announced by lobby security, Candy set the phones on automatic answer and joined Jack in his office, as he had requested. He wanted to be able to look at her in her natural form, without the pretenses of idle chit-chat with Candy. The two people keeping him company admonished him for his lack of decorum under the circumstances, but he cared little. Jack pressed a button under his desk, releasing special gasses within the glass walls that surrounded his office, turning his office dark to the outside, while maintaining perfect visibility from the inside.
Kate was angry. He knew the look well. She wanted what she wanted, and while Jack had no intention of giving it to her, she’d leave here today believing he had. Her thick auburn hair hung in waves that opposed each other at every turn, giving her a just-woke-up, or a freshly-fucked look—depending on whose opinion he queried. The idea of both drove him crazy. But more than her hair, her eyes captivated him, always—even on days like today, when he wanted to throttle her into compliance. They were deep turquoise with a ring of sea green close to the iris, and they used to dance for him, cry for him, grow large and then fall into his as he moved above her, promising her the moon and the stars. For a while, he gave her those things, and she never asked for more. But her eyes no longer danced—not for him, and it seemed, not for anyone.
She wore a pencil skirt in cream linen that came to the tops of her knees, black lace overlaying the garment to an inch above the hem. A black sleeveless sweater, pointed black and cream pumps, and the two-carat diamond earrings at her lobes completed the outfit.
Candy sat perched on the edge of Jack’s desk and admired the woman who would soon be Jack Barrington’s ex-wife. Candy liked her boss, and she hated to see him unhappy.
He was most unhappy now. The man loved Kate, and Candy spent many uncomfortable moments staring at pretend work on her desk, or something captivating on her computer screen while Jack flew into rages over the fate of his marriage. The most difficult clients, the most frivolous courtroom antics did not get him half as riled as the idea of this divorce. Now that it seemed imminent, he was inconsolable.
Candy also liked Kate, even when Kate treated her like some piece of art Jack spent too much money on. Candy knew Kate didn’t mean it, and that Kate’s attitude had nothing to do with her. Regardless, the bitch needed a foot up her ass, Candy thought. In better times, Candy remembered Jack being happy and content, and she believed it had everything to do with Kate. Now, most of the time, Jack acted testy, or simply unreachable, buried within himself. With what he was going through now, the man would need help, love, support and stress-avoidance. She could help out with a couple of those things, but most of what Jack needed would have to come from the lady cooling her heels at reception.
“Jack?”
He looked at Candy, and then over at Doug Strutts, the firm’s divorce attorney, and a partner. He sighed and turned to his long-time assistant, whom he had involved in his personal affairs much too deeply. For now, it couldn’t be avoided. He would make it up to her later, after this was over.
“Okay.”
Candy left the office and walked to the reception desk, steeling herself with a deep breath before feigning surprise.
“Kate! I’m so sorry. How long have you been here?”
“Not long, Candy. Is Jack here? I have an appointment.” Kate never had much use for Candy. She was too pretty, too efficient, and too smart to be sitting here showing off her legs. As she told Jack several times, Candy was more than the firm’s first impression.
We all have our functions, babe, he had said. And Candice Preston knows hers. Leave it be.
“He’s been waiting for you,” Candy said. “Follow me.”
“I know the way. Thanks.” Kate passed the aquarium and the teak, the furniture with the modern lines and comfortable cushions, and was instantly sorry she’d been short with Candy. None of this was her fault. If all went well, she’d never see the woman again after today. A bottle of Dom and tickets to the opera for Candy and her boyfriend would hopefully smooth out the rough spots of their squirm-producing non-relationship.
Kate stood in front of Jack’s office door and took a breath, steeling herself for the argument she knew would begin the moment she handed the documents off to Jack, or his designee. She knew he had looked at her through the one-way glass. It was just like him to take the upper hand like that. As the lead designer for this suite of offices, and others in the city too numerous to name, Kate knew all the tricks, the bells and the whistles that turned brilliant executives into little boys with the push of a button.
This divorce had been a long time coming, and it was through Jack’s stalling and general avoidance of anything lacking pleasure that brought them both to this moment: a moment best handled with minimal emotion, she believed. With one more cleansing breath, she opened the door and walked in.
The office was enormous, and so was the view. She could see the Pacific, stretched like a blue band fifteen miles to the west. With most days being clear and bright, this was the view Jack and his colleagues—and Candy—were gifted with most days.
Jack sat behind a polished teak desk, and Doug Strutts sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in front. They both stood when she entered.
“Hi,” said Jack. “Were you waiting long?”
“MM-hmm. Years.” She turned to Doug Strutts. “Hi, sweetie.” Doug took her by the elbow and pecked her on the cheek. Her comment rankled Jack, as she intended. His jaw flexed and his dark honey–colored eyes, clear as a child’s best agate, burned her. He motioned her over to the couches arranged in a semi-circle on the other side of the room.
“Sit, Kate. Please.”
“Oh, I won’t stay long enough to get comfortable, Jack, but thank you.” She started to hand him the documents, and then remembered that Jack was a lawyer—a criminal lawyer, but nonetheless, a stickler for protocol. So, she handed the documents to Doug. He sat and perused the documents, committing almost every word to memory, as was his gift.
“Kate.” Doug Strutts shook his head. “This… this is above and beyond… I mean, totally unnecessary…”
Jack snatched the documents out of Doug’s hands and began reading it for himself. When he finished, he raised his head and glared at her.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“What’s the difference? Take it, Jack. All of it.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want this. I said I’d give you a divorce if that’s what you’re determined to have, but I won’t take your money. Do you hear me?” Jack made his feelings known from the beginning. He loved Kate. He never stopped. He just never bothered to make that clear to her until it was too late. And now, time was not on his side.
“Please, Jack, take it,” she said as she paced the room. “I’ll make it all back again in a year.”
“Excuse us a minute, Doug.”
Kate’s stomach dropped an inch or two at Jack’s tone. She hadn’t heard it in a long time, not since he stopped caring.
“Of course.” Doug Strutts stood and, with a nod of excuse, left the room. Jack turned on his wife.
“Three million dollars, Kate? I don’t need or want…!”
She spun around on him. “What is it with you? You have made millions over the last fifteen years yet, for some reason, you feel the need to make more. So, make it. You’ve got only yourself now to spend it on, and with an extra three million, maybe you’ll see your way clear to retire so you don’t die behind that desk.”
“You benefited nicely from my millions, honey,” he spat.
“You think you need to continue this insanity for me? I never asked for jewelry, or cars or homes. All I ever asked you for was you. So, now I will pay you to stop. I will gladly pay you to just… stop.” She turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears well in her eyes.
Jack came up behind her and took her elbow between his fingers. “It’s not as easy as that and you know it.”
Kate did. She knew how hard Jack had worked to create one of the finest law firms on the West Coast. With A-list clients and a cover story in LA Magazine’s issue of “The Ones to Watch,” Barrington, Strutts, and Cash was at the top of the heap—and the heap was large.
“Sweetheart.” He turned her to face him but she shrugged him off.
“The time for endearments and comfort has passed, Jack. I want out.”
“You’re angry. You’re not thinking clearly. Let’s just… talk.”
“Sign the documents.” She pulled herself up proudly, picked up her purse, and walked out the door.
“Kate! KATE!” he shouted, but she continued out the door without so much as a glance back. He did not want a scene, so he let her go.
Doug and Candy returned to the office, and Jack thrust the documents into Doug’s hands.
“Amend this goddamned thing, then get it over to Cliff Haskell by messenger.”
“Jack?” Doug said. Jack turned and faced his friend and partner. “You know I love you two like the sister and brother I wish I had, and not the ones I’m stuck with. It’s killing me to see you like this.”
“Tell Haskell that if she doesn’t sign the amended version, she can shove them straight up her heart-shaped ass.” He raked his hand through his black hair and blew out a frustrated breath.
“You can’t wait much longer,” Doug said.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors,” Candy added.
“I hear both of you.” He paced his office for a moment. “I want her to come back to me for the right reasons.” He faced Doug. “If she signs, tell Haskell not to submit to the court until a week from Monday. And not a word—from either of you.”
Doug smiled. “So, plan A is still in effect?”
“Yeah. If I don’t
kill her first!”
****
Kate pulled the red Lexus off the highway and began the long climb up the mountain. “Jack won’t give you the divorce until you sign the amended version, Sweet Pea,” Cliff Haskell informed her over a beer at the Muckety Muck. Kate signed the papers, giving Jack the firm. It was all he asked for. Fine. Let him die behind that desk. Fuck it. The papers would be submitted sometime that day and with any luck, Jack would sign without delay. She would take the next three days and drown her sorrows. A week from Monday it would all be over, and then she would pick up the pieces and begin again.
A week from Monday. October 30.
“Bastard!” she screamed to an empty car.
She walked across campus, her nose in a book, studying the works of the great artists, knowing that a hundred years in art school would not bring her close to this kind of talent. As sudden as a breath she was on her back, and as she opened her eyes, the trees above her moved in and out of focus.
“Keep her still! I said KEEP HER STILL!” someone ordered. When she could get her eyes to focus, she saw that the person doing all the bossing kneeled next to her. His dark hair fell over one eye, and brown eyes she could see through held hers steady as he said, “Stay still, sweetheart. Don’t move.” His words, his gentle tone calmed her while self-preservation tossed all calm aside and she tried to sit up. The stranger placed one arm around her shoulders and the other on her chest and he forced her back down. He lowered his head, and she felt his breath, sweet-hot, in her ear.
“You stay on your back and don’t you move. You hear me?”
“Wha…what happened?” and then she felt it, warm and wet, down her right side. The searing pain gripped her along with the realization that something hit her. When she raised her hand, it was covered in blood.
Kate made a right off the highway before the road wound its way down again to the desert. She drove another thirteen miles, past nothing but trees, then past town and the general store, the gas station, the drug store with an old-fashioned lunch counter, and the bar and grille. Logic made her turn around and park in front of the general store. She would need food.
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