by J.M. Downey
“Get on my lap.” He spoke in a low tone, matching his father in pitch.
Katie crawled onto his lap.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
He let go of her hand. “Stand up.”
Katie stood. With his hand, he motioned for her to take a couple steps back. She listened.
“Take everything off.”
Tears poured down her face. What could he possibly want? To let his eyes roam over her trembling naked body? But she was his possession. “Why?”
“Do it!”
Katie flinched and tore off her shirt and jeans, dropping them on the floor at his feet. Her fingers shook as they stumbled over the clasps of her bra, but soon she undid it and let it slip down her body. As her underwear trailed down her legs, goose bumps spread over her skin. A warm tear fell down her cheek and landed on her chest, completely rolling down her body.
Keith picked up the remote control off the floor, and flipped through the channels until he found a college basketball game. He stopped on it, recrossed his arms and watched the game.
What? Katie looked at the screen. He was trying to humiliate her – to punish her for not following his orders. God couldn’t possibly want her to submit to this. How cruel could he be to expect her to obey this monster in front of her?
“Stare at me.”
Her head snapped back around, and she focused on the top of his head. His hair had skewed to the side. She crossed her arms over her breasts, trying to keep herself from crumbling to the floor.
“Hands to the side.”
“You’re treating me like a whore.”
“You are a whore.”
How could he call her something so vile? Wasn’t she the love of his life? “I’m your wife.”
“Wives listen.”
“Keith.…”
“Be quiet, and watch the TV.”
Katie closed her eyes and faced the television. The game was in the beginning of the second half. She stood there with her hands glued to her sides until the game was over. He then shut off the TV, and the couch creaked with his movements. Behind her the rustle of fabric broke the stillness. He walked up to her and took her shoulders, slowly turning her around. He stood before her, shirtless, the black hair on his skin sprinkled with sweat. She looked up at his face; the glare still filled his eyes. He caressed her sides with both of his hands as he kissed her, dragging her onto the floor.
Katie kept her eyes on the ceiling, biting her bottom lip as Keith moved on top of her. Every part of her repulsed at his touch. He made her feel so used like a possession to dominate. When he was done, he stood and slipped on his pants. She sat up and pulled her knees close to her chest.
A smirk crossed his face as he grabbed his shirt. “You know, I always keep my whores on the floor.”
Katie’s mouth flew open as he turned for the bedroom, shutting the door - the lock clicking into place.
Whore. He had used her the same way he had so many women. Katie buried her face into her knees as the sobs escaped. Her hair lay all around her, half hiding her. When her head began to pound, she looked up. His wallet lay on the table. She needed to get out of here and his wallet probably contained enough money. She crawled over to it, and picked it up, looking inside. There were at least 10 $100 bills. Taking out a hundred; she looked around the place. She wanted nothing, but clothes on her back.
The door to their bedroom opened. She froze - the money slipping from her fingers. Keith strode towards her and took her hand, holding it as if it could break and helped her to stand.
The glare was gone from his eyes; they seemed soft. He placed a finger on her cheek and caressed it. “Come lie down with me, my love,” he said.
Now she was his love. She glanced back towards to the spot he had used her. He yanked her hand, making her follow him into the bedroom and handed her, her nightgown. She fingered the smooth fabric. What would he think if she told him whores didn’t wear white? He’d probably slap her. She quickly slipped the fabric over her head, the cool silk, sheltering her nakedness. She’d rather have him think of her as the innocent, he insisted she still was, instead of the jezebel. After lying on the bed, he held out a hand for her. She turned to look at the open door. Every part of her wanted to make a run for it, but she wouldn’t get far.
“Katie, my sweet wife,” he said.
She looked back at him and cringed at the pleasant look on his face. How could he just switch on and off like he was some kind of Jekyll and Hyde? She lay down next to him before Keith pulled her as close to his body as he could, and kissed her cheek before he rested his on hers, trapping her. She would never be able to leave.
Ashley rolled over and grabbed her phone, looking at the screen. It was Katie. She looked at Amanda’s sleeping form under the sheets, and got out of the bed. Amanda told her Keith had been more tense lately and yesterday he had demanded Katie come home. Something must have happened. She walked into the living room, closing the door behind her, and answered the phone. “Hello, Katie,” she said.
Katie broke down into sobs, mumbling out broken sentences.
“Calm down,” Ashley whispered. “You’re making no sense.”
Katie took a deep breath. “He made me stand naked in the middle of the room while he watched a game.”
Ashley gasped. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Through fragments of sentences, Ashley pieced together what happened. She ran a hand through her hair. Mr. Wilkerson had done something like that before to his wife while they watched from around a corner. Her childhood friend was his father. There was no hope for Katie. Guilt pierced through her. She should have warned her. But she had hoped Keith would be different, but he never had a chance. His father had spent his whole life molding him into what he wanted, pushing his anger forward, and then forcing him to control it unless it was needed.
“Katie, my dear, it will be alright, you’ve just got to learn to live with him. Learn to avoid his anger.”
“I want to leave him. I can’t stand this.”
Ashley wiped some tears from her face. “You can’t leave him.”
“Why?”
Ashley looked up at the ceiling and remembered the time when Keith and her hid under the bed. Mr. Wilkerson had held a gun to his wife’s head, saying he would shoot all that she loved if she didn’t behave. But she had done nothing wrong.
“They’re so dangerous. You have to learn to follow his rules.”
“They?”
“Him and his father. I shouldn’t tell you this. It will make it worse for you, but you should know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” Ashley stopped speaking as she walked to the guest bedroom of her apartment. She closed the door. “Mr. Wilkerson beat his wife until he broke her spirit; threatened her with guns. Keith, Amanda and I used to hide when he’d get so mad.”
“Keith has never hit me.”
“He will, if you don’t lose your will now.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
Ashley shook her head. “Katie, stop allowing yourself to be fooled. Did you ever think he’d make you stand in the middle of the room naked?”
“No.” Her voice died away.
“He will. He’s capable of it and he will to make you bend to him. Accept it, you are now his possession. If you run, he will track you down, and destroy you until you become a shell like his mother.”
“Dear Lord, help me.”
Ashley closed her eyes. No one could help her. The other end of the line went silent. Not even a small breath could be heard. Katie must be trying to process what she had been told or blocking it out.
Katie spent the day watching reruns on the game show network. She stole a quick glance at the clock. It was getting late. She hadn’t eaten all day and the thought of food didn’t seem appealing. She had almost left that morning, but fear drove her back in the hotel room. What would he do if she ran? She pushed the thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t think of them right now. Perhaps.…
Th
e door opened and Keith walked in with a bouquet of tulips. He smiled when his eyes connected with hers. She turned away. He walked over to her, and knelt down in front of the couch.
“These are for you,” he said as he laid the flowers on her breasts and caressed her cheek with his index finger. “Are you feeling all right?”
Katie took a deep breath and let it escape from her lips. Now she was worthy of flowers. Every part of her felt tense, repulsed at his nearness. If she could only tell him to leave her be. But Ashley’s words filled her mind. Would he really hit her? Put a gun to her head? He had shoved her against the door last night, and raised a hand to her. But he had hit the door as if that was a line even he wouldn’t cross.
Keith placed the back of his hand on her cheek. “You want to go out to dinner; get out of here for a while?”
She shook her head. No, she wanted to leave. To walk out that door and never look back.
Keith dropped his hand from her face and sat on the floor. “I’m sorry, Katie.”
She rolled over and looked at him. His lips were drawn down – his brows bent. “I was cruel to you last night.” Keith folded his hands in his lap and focused on them. “I wanted to hurt you because you hurt me.” He paused for a second. “I won’t do it again.”
Yes, he would. How many times had he apologized to her or tried to justify his actions? Hadn’t she learned in sociology class that this was the pattern of an abuser? If she had only paid attention to the signs earlier. He had always been possessive. But now she could no longer ignore the signs.
Keith sat up from the floor, and leaned over her; looking down into her eyes. “I mean it, Katie. There is no one else in this world I love.”
Smiling, he picked up the bouquet and took out one lone flower, dropping the rest to the floor. He placed the lone flower on her lips. “I love you,” he said.
“Will you ever hit me?” Katie closed her eyes; her thoughts had materialized.
“No. What would make you think that?”
“I just wanted to hear you say no,” she whispered. She tried to roll over, but he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back over, his face inches from hers. Deep lines formed between his brows. “Look at my eyes.”
Katie gazed into the dark blue eyes, which looked like they had when they first met. How could he really change his eyes to create a look that would fool her? Is that how this had all happened?
“Do you see anything in them?”
She shook her head. “I will never hit you,” he said. His eyes held a firm stare; there was no twitch, nothing. “Did you see anything?”
“No.”
“That’s because I’m not lying. I will never hit you.”
FIVE
Keith walked into the Seattle office of Wilkerson Attorney at Law and took a step back. His father sat at his desk, tapping the end of a pen in a smooth rhythm. Keith closed the door behind him, and stood with his hands folded in front of his waist. His father wanted something, but what could it be? He traced his mind, trying to figure out if he had left anything undone, but nothing stuck out. “Hello, sir.”
His father leaned back in the chair and put his hands behind his head. “Do you know who Josh Hockman is?”
“He’s a reporter covering the case.”
“What else do you know about him?”
Keith shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. He just calls us all the time wanting info.”
Mr. Wilkerson sat up and folded his hands on the desk. “He’s got some damaging information on us.”
Keith sat in the chair opposite of his father; he couldn’t move his gaze from him. “How?”
“It will be taken care of. Go to the hotel and spend the day with your wife. Sullivan will bring the information.”
Keith stood. “How did he find out?”
In a low tone his father said, “it will be taken care of. Now go.”
Her fingers rested at the end of the keys as her eyes scanned the page. The statement I hate him filled the screen. Had she really spent the last ten minutes filling a page with those few words? Tears pricked her eyes. Was there really no way out? Couldn’t she at least try? Her family would help her. But Ashley’s warning had created such a fear in her, she didn’t know if she should take one step towards freedom. But she knew one thing. God wouldn’t approve. She had spent the morning searching through the Bible, trying to find one verse that would justify her leaving. She figured maybe if for once she followed His word, he’d take care of her, but all she could find were commands about divorce being a sin and wives should cling to their husbands. And truth be told - why would the creator of the universe care about what happened to her? She had put herself in this mess when she decided to ignore His warnings and cling to the monster.
The door opened. Katie snapped the laptop shut.
“Katie,” she heard. Keith walked down the hallway into the living room of the hotel room. He took his jacket off and draped it over a loveseat. His dark bangs swished to the side, highlighting his dark blue eyes. Not one ounce of tenseness radiated from him, so maybe she was safe tonight.
“You’re home early.” But why was he home? Court cases never took breaks until they ended.
“Yeah, there wasn’t much to talk about.” He smiled. “Let’s go get some lunch.”
She nodded and slipped the computer under the couch out of sight. She would have to make sure the file was deleted later.
An hour later, Katie sat opposite of Keith at a restaurant, listening to him talk about a game. She didn’t notice the waitress had picked up their plates until she heard her ask, “would you like anything else?”
Katie looked up at the woman. “Do you have German Chocolate Cake?”
“Get a bowl of fruit,” Keith said. “You don’t want to get chubby.”
The waitress’s lips snarled upward as if he had called her chubby. Thankfully, Keith hadn’t noticed.
“I’m fine,” Katie said.
The waitress shook her head as she walked away. Everyone saw it. Even strangers. What took her so long? Now she understood why abused women were so fooled by their mates. One moment they played prince charming, treating a girl like royalty and then the next a monster hunting the princess. Never again would she judge a victim.
“Good.” Keith pulled some cash out of his wallet and dropped it on the table. She stood from her seat, and waited until he placed her coat on her shoulders. She had to grind her feet into the floor, when his fingers bumped her shoulders. She placed her arms in his and they walked out of the restaurant.
Keith slipped a red pill into the dark wine, swaying the glass, so the liquid swished, dissolving the pill. He walked over to his beautiful wife, who sat on the couch, wearing a light blue cotton dress that accented her curves, and nipped just enough to show the top of her breasts. A dress he only allowed her to wear inside when no one else was around. It was too provocative, and would arouse other men’s interests. And he could have no one thinking of her. He handed her the glass as she stared at the TV. A documentary about puffins filled the screen as the black birds swished through the water, snapping at small fish. She took several small sips, closing her eyes, her black lashes lying across her creamy cheeks. When she had finished, she set the glass down, and leaned her head against the back of the couch. Her eyes took on a dazed look. The drug was beginning to work. This drug had brought her into his arms, and now it would keep her innocent of his life.
Keith wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head onto his shoulder. He smiled as her body relaxed into his. It had been a while. Mostly she stiffened when he came near her. He would need to work on things, but he hadn’t had much time lately to nourish their relationship. He would later. She wasn’t going anywhere. He held her until she fell asleep and then carried her to the bedroom, lying down next to her. He caressed her cheeks, loving every curve of her delicate face. She was precious to him; worth more than anything. Guilt filled him. He needed to control his anger in regards to her; get her to do what h
e wanted without hurting her, but she needed to stop being so stubborn – to follow his lead.
He brushed a strand of hair that rested against the pillow, the chestnut tresses covered it in rippling waves. The cell phone he had placed on the bed vibrated. He reached behind his back and picked up the phone, flipped it open and read: “I’m here.” He closed the phone and kissed his wife’s cheek right before he snapped his fingers twice in front of her face. She didn’t move, or flinch.
He slipped from the bed, put on a pair of slacks and walked out the door, locking it behind him. He turned and took a step back. A candlelight flickered over a silhouette in complete black. “Let yourself in.”
The man held out a brown folder and a pair of gloves. Keith took the gloves and slipped them on over his long fingers. He grabbed the folder and walked to the kitchen table with the slender but muscular man following behind him. Pushing the table mat off the table, Keith sat down and searched through the folder, pulling out records of phone conversations between suspicious individuals and Arther, and details of weapons to be handed over, and setting them to the side.
“Is the missus asleep?” Sullivan asked, his voice never reaching above a deep drawl.
“She will not wake. I gave her something.”
Sullivan nodded.
When Keith had a tall order of papers separated from the rest, he closed the folder and gave them to Sullivan. He then gave him the other stack, and said, “destroy.”
Sullivan nodded and waited as Keith returned to the bedroom. The man would disappear from the hotel room as easily as he’d slipped in.
He was everything a girl could want, rich, influential, and handsome, but as the muscles of his back rose and fell with each deep breath, she saw nothing but power. Katie pushed his arm off of her and slipped out of the bed. She stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at the girl she had become and not recognizing herself. Dark circles remained under her eyes; her skin blanched. Did Keith still find her beautiful? To her, she looked dead.
