by Ann Raina
Oliver dutifully looked at his manicured nails and pursed his lips. "Flogging, chaining him to the wall, handcuffs, blindfolds. Tell me what you need so that I--
"Oliver! I just told you I wished I wouldn't need any of this stuff."
"Ah, come on!" He rose with less elegance than Kyra. It was more like lifting a manatee from sea. The upholstery sighed. "He's a criminal, you're a benevolent, very reliable citizen of Boston, who takes up the crucial task of educating a delinquent. Don't forget that he sold drugs on the street. He was convicted. And you got a contract with the city, which says that you can do with him what you want. Okay, you can't kill him or maim him. But besides that…" He shrugged and gently touched her arm. "Don't be unnerved that you hurt him. He asked for it. And he'll survive."
"Why does it always seem so…logical and consequent when you say it?"
"Because you got a hard drink to your head and I can make every word believable. That's my talent, don't forget it."
She hugged him out of the sheer necessity of physical contact. He was good to hug and he always returned it with heartfelt intensity. Her small frame vanished against his sizeable paunch. She rested her cheek against his upper chest for a moment then stepped back. "Thanks for the drink."
"Come back any time. The office is open almost twenty-four hours." He brought her to the door, waved her goodbye and closed it behind her, knowing that he had at least lifted her guilt. A bit.
CHAPTER 5
The hangover was bad, Julian's mood was worse. He did not speak a word with her in the morning and was still grumpy and taciturn in the evening. She did not mind. If he refrained from asking her why she had done it, she had nothing to explain. Easy. But the tension needed a vent and, though no one could say for certain how it started, Julian got into a shouting match with another worker the next day. He kept from using his fists, but it was a close call and Kyra was more than happy for the weekend ahead. Robert Ashby warned her that she would risk peace among all workers if Julian did not refrain from challenging them. She was not so sure this was true.
"You'll send me back, right?" he asked when he was secured at the pillar once more. She had had been uptight and brooding on they way home so the assumption seemed right.
She turned to him slowly, frowning, trying to read his mind. My, is he agitated. His eyes burned. The short blowing off steam had not done anything to calm him down. He was trying to hold a load of energy with a thin thread. It would not last. "Your behavior is highly irrational."
He blew air through his nose and pushed away the blindfold so it skittered over the tiles. "Thanks for telling me. I can give that back."
She frowned. "What?"
"I haven't forgotten you used a cane on my ass!"
"Oh…" Kyra lowered her chin and ogled him through the mass of her hair. "And that--"
"I can't believe you did this! You're such a bitch!"
Kyra stared at him. Anger took command. "I told you if you insulted me again I will gag you. And, yes, you're right, I should send you back. You stir unrest among my staff and I really don't like that!"
"They call me white nigger, damn it! And that's the nicest thing they say. So what am I supposed to do? Just ignore them?"
"Yes!"
"You don't understand."
"No, I don't. I don't understand how easily you are provoked. You just take any excuse to jump at them!"
"They do this to challenge me, woman! You don't get it! It's all men down there! And I'm not one of them, but just…"
"A delinquent. Right. That's what you are. What's the big deal?" A car parked at the curb. "The officer's coming to check. Sit down and don't make a fuss. Don't do anything you'll regret later."
"And that's it?" he shouted after her, but she did not answer.
She reached the door and opened it. Officer Marco Pisetti greeted her. He was small, had black, curly hair and a quick, intoxicating smile that only few people possess and use to charm others. In policemen, such gifts rarely survive the harsh reality of life. So far Pisetti had kept his chin up and the smile intact.
"How are you doing, Ms. Jennings?" He took off his hat as he entered the hall. "Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes, sure. Mr. Bithrell is in the kitchen."
"Ah, right." The smile was very friendly. "Do you know that you're the only one keeping a delinquent in the main house?" She shrugged as if it did not matter. "It's true. Most of the business owners lock them up at the shops or in a separate room." He nodded toward her, honest appreciation in his juvenile features. "If you don't mind me saying, I think your decision is much better. Only yesterday I had a delinquent hurt at night and he was only found when the first shift arrived." He entered the kitchen and granted Julian a broadside of his smile. "Hello, how are you doing?"
Julian glared at Kyra. "So far I'm surviving."
"Oh…surviving." Pisetti tried to smooth the sentence with a warm smile directed at Kyra. "I think it's better than that." He turned back to Julian. "And you work at her firm?" He nodded. Pisetti frowned, but composed himself quickly. "And the work is…all right?" Another nod. The officer fought for his smile. "Has one of you a question? I'm happy to answer them."
"Yes." Kyra accompanied him back into the hall and lowered her voice. "Did every delinquent know in advance what he has to expect if he fails?"
"You mean that he's brought back? Yes, of course."
"And also that the prison sentence is prolonged?"
"It was in the papers," Pisetti said carefully. "I don't know if everybody read the lines."
"Thank you."
"Do you get along with him?"
"How much did you bet that I don't?"
"Oh, Ms. Jennings, I'm the wrong person to talk to. The boys at the station have their opinion about the whole deal, not only about you taking in a convict. So far the program runs smoothly. Some setbacks, some problems, but the majority accepts it."
"You did not answer my question, officer."
"Because I did not bet." He wished her a good night and left for his car.
Kyra wondered about her father's words again. For a moment she wanted to call him and confront him with the fact that he had been wrong and that she would manage a prisoner, even if he was a hunk. But then she thought that the day had been stressful without quibbling with her dad. She wanted to brew tea when Julian suddenly appeared beside her as if materializing out of thin air. He pushed her forward and fell on his knees. Kyra was thrown so hard against the counter she felt her stomach twist in anguish. Her forehead connected with the upper cabinet door. For a second she was stunned then slid down to sit on the tiles. There were stars dancing above her and the bitter truth that she could hardly breathe. Everything was a blur. Her legs were weak and she felt dizzy. Not to mention that her stomach hurt.
"Are you…are you all right?"
She touched her head. "All right? You attacked me, you bastard! I'm not all right! Get away from me!"
"I can't. Not as far as you might like. You chained me here."
"Oh, fuck…" She let go a sigh of frustration, but inched away from him, one hand touching her brow. "The moment I can get up, I'll call the cops as promised."
"No! Please, don't! Don't do that!" He appeared in her field of vision, his face contorted with fear. "Kyra, it was an accident! I didn't mean to harm you!"
"You sneaked up behind me, you pushed me and now you lie! You did that on purpose, you freak, and you gonna pay for it!"
"I didn't grab you. I tried to scare you, yes. I wanted to shake some sense into you, but I tripped and fell. I gripped you by accident. I'm sorry. I'm not used to being chained to a pillar. Please, Kyra, don't call the cops. Gimme a chance. I'll do what you want me to, but don't give up on me."
"Give up on you? What's that supposed to mean? You're not some choir boy who missed a tune in a song!" He hung his head and a long strand fell over his brow. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. It was less than graceful to sit on the cold tiles. Her butt was al
ready numb through the thin fabric of her jogging pants. "Tell me a real good reason why I shouldn't turn to the cops right now. And it should be a better story than your girlfriend being pregnant with your child, okay?"
"No, it's nothing like that. You won't believe me. No one did."
Kyra turned to him and lowered her hand. Not because she felt better, but because she wanted to look in his face. She had learned that young people's faces always told a better story than their word. Old police rule--read the eyes of your suspect. "Try me."
"I'm innocent."
She frowned, but caught the action quickly. "Um, oh. Innocent?" She made an effort not to shake her head. "Now that's rich. Shall I remind you? You were caught with your hand in the cookie jar. You were convicted and sent to jail. And only because you were no hardcore criminal granted you the chance to choose this program. So what's that gibberish about being innocent?"
Julian tried to hold her stare. "It was just a coincidence."
"Yeah, right." Kyra massaged the back of her head. She would be in pain for a day if she did not do anything against it. She rose slowly, steadying herself at the kitchen counter. "That's what they all say, isn't it?"
"No, not what they all say. Look at my file. I'm not a street junkie with a long list of crimes."
"That's what gave you the chance of the program," she reminded him.
He nodded quickly. "Yes, but I'm not a dealer. Never sold crack or something to kids on the street. The conviction was based on the fact that I met with a man who got a briefcase with Fidelity and money, yes, and I couldn't give a proper explanation why I had been there. That was all. I didn't fix, I didn't try to buy such stuff on the street. Believe me, please."
Kyra made an effort to fetch a glass and an aspirin. She swayed and realized with bitterness that she must have hit her head harder than she thought. "The judge said otherwise. He wouldn't have convicted you to two years in jail if there hadn't been hard proof of your crime."
"I know." He stood in a fluent motion and stepped forward. "Can I help? You look like you'd fall any moment."
"Don't try to get mushy on me. Just don't." She kept herself upright with an iron grip to the counter. "Just admit that you hit me on purpose."
"And you won't call the cops?" he asked with a hint of hope that made her turn.
"I won't promise you anything. What did you expect? That I'd thank you for throwing me against the furniture? Sit down!"
He sat down. "I…I didn't mean any hurt. Honestly. I just wanted to stop you from…bitching at me."
"Bitching?" Kyra choked on the word. She poured a glass of water and took the aspirin from the back of the counter. "You forget your place. You're a convict who happens to stay in my house, nothing more. You have very few rights and I can do with you many things worse than this. So don't blame me for your position."
"Not blaming. Just treat me like a person, not a goddamned dog! Don't gimme commands all of the time. Like when the officer came. Sit down and don't fuss around," he mimicked her voice. "Who do you think I am?"
She turned around slowly. Every quick move right now would make her throw up. "Earn a better treatment, Julian. Earn my respect, my trust. I see a criminal in you who has to make amends for his crimes. If you want more, you better stop hollering and start working without getting into shouting matches all the time." Her eyes flicked to the phone at the wall.
"Please, Kyra, I already said I will do what you want me to do, so don't…" He licked his lips, eyeing her with fear as much as hope that she would not send him back to prison.
Kyra wondered if it was a good show or the truth. He was hard to read and a voice in her head said that she wanted to believe him. The decision could backfire if she was wrong. Kyra swallowed the rest of the water and put down the glass. She stared at Julian sitting on the mattress. He was handsome in a way that was most disturbing. His looks had something to do with it, but not as much as his demeanor. He was downright submissive at the moment, wrecked in doubt. Maybe it was the wrong decision and she would regret it later, but she wanted to continue the five months. Maybe only because to prove her father wrong. It did not matter. "I will make a deal with you, Julian," she said, glad her voice was firm. "If you behave flawless for the time to come, I won't turn you over to the cops. I will let you finish your five months of service here. But…make one mistake and I won't be lenient."
Julian swallowed, but kept his face carefully blank of any negative expression. He looked at her and nodded slowly. "I'll do my best to please you."
Kyra held her breath for a second. His voice was sullen, and yet, maybe without meaning it, he had said a sentence that trickled down her spine like a soft touch. Like a brush of fingertips lingering on her skin. She wanted to go down on him, to have sex with him right that moment. Okay, maybe not this very second as her head hurt too much for hot sex on the hard kitchen floor, but the urge was there. Kyra nodded as an answer for she did not know what to say without compromising her feelings. The aspirin kicked in and she busied herself with brewing tea. "You know that there's punishment waiting for you?" she asked without turning.
"The cane from the wall, hmm? It's nice you put it there for me to see it every day."
"No." She poured hot water over the tea leaves in two mugs. There was something in his voice that went along with what she had seen before. Was it expectation? He tried to sound appalled, but did not convince her. She turned. He was confused. "Handcuff yourself."
"Kyra…"
"I've been lenient with you, Julian. Very, very lenient. And you best not try to test how much more I'm willing to grant you."
He did what she ordered. "You're going to whip me or what?"
She carefully stooped to lift the blindfold. The headache was still there somewhere, and she better not challenge it. Julian shook his head in exasperation when she got closer. "Hold still."
"You won't tell me what's on your mind?"
She covered his eyes before she unchained him from the pillar. "Get up." Kyra took a deep breath and led him out of the kitchen. Was she really going to do this? Or had she hit her head so hard her common sense had been damaged? Oliver had told her much about attraction, about lust and a love life different from her own. Oh, yes, he had known her secrets without her naming them. What will Chris say if he saw Julian and her like that? Kyra smiled into the semidarkness of the garage. He would rip open his eyes and maybe--no, probably--accuse her of being mentally demented, crazy, twisted. Pick one. Chris had never been at a lack of words. She pressed Julian down on the examination chair.
"What are you gonna do?"
Julian's voice was as breathless as she felt. She fastened his upper body and pulled down his briefs.
"Kyra, what…what will you do?"
"Put your legs up."
"Tell me."
Kyra looked down at him while she fastened his legs to the jibs. The welts were gone. The thought that Oliver would be disappointed crossed her mind, but quickly vanished. She realized that Julian was getting excited. "I should shave you completely. Your head first."
"Shave my hair?" he echoed. "No! Please, no."
She stood between his legs. Her knee touched his scrotum sac as she leaned in. "Is that the reason why you joined the program? To have some freedom left? To not be forced to wear a crew cut?"
"I like my hair the way it is. And I already told you my reasons." He flinched. "If you had committed a crime, wouldn't you take a shortcut if it was offered?"
"Maybe." She leaned in a bit harder. Not hurting his genitals, but telling him she could.
"Of course you would."
"What's your profession, Julian? There was nothing in your file."
"I had no employment."
"No training either?"
"No." He swallowed. "Not really."
"You better not lie. It's a bad position to be caught lying. No pun intended." She smiled and Julian's stress eased.
"I learned carpentry. But I found no job."
"Carpe
ntry, hmm? Sounds good. I'm sure I can find you something useful to do." She stepped away and took out the electric razor Oliver had left behind. Julian let go of his breath. "What did you do at that house the night you were caught?"
Julian wet his lips. "I met with a friend. I needed a job and he said he had something for me."
"Fidelity."
"No!" He twitched when she put the electric razor to his lower stomach. "I didn't deal! I had never seen that third man before."
"Police said otherwise."
"I know."
Kyra watched his face. Julian hardly breathed and did not swallow at all. He is nervous, isn't he? "Now…is that the truth?" The razor made another swing and the hair below his navel was gone.
"It's the truth, Kyra. Really."
She smiled. Enough of the interrogation. She did not want him to be that nervous. It would ruin all the fun. "Now, you better behave yourself, prisoner. If you piss right now, you might electrocute yourself and that might ruin your…equipment."
Julian smiled through the strain. "You're impressed, aren't you?"
"I'll be impressed if you worked without trouble."
"Don't put it like that," he said, his tone lighter. "You know damn well why you chose me."
"I didn't choose you in particular, you were selected by the prison personnel."
"On what issue?"
Kyra thought about it. Did the police officers and the prison personnel make a deal? She could not think of any, but there were few other explanations. If her father was right. She would not bet on it. "I don't know. I just got the information that I had to pick you up."
"I don't believe a fuckin' word."
"You don't have to." Kyra moved aside his testicles to shave beneath the scrotum sac. Julian moaned quietly and lifted his butt to grant her better access. "Quit the stupid moaning, man!"
"You started that. If you don't like it, leave me as I am."
She could not deny that. She had thought about following Oliver's advice to shave him on a regular basis, but she was not sure now if she could do it. Kyra felt like walking a very new path though she had not been shy in her sex life before. But this shouldn't be sexual. This should be…punishment. Humiliation. And, damn him! He actually seemed to like it and that got her off track more effectively than irrational outbursts of anger. Kyra had calculated on that, but not on cooperation. This was…unreal. Yes, she knew that her very own neighbor was into bondage games and, guess what, he had loaned her most of the equipment she used right now. But to hell and back, she would not have thought that this tall, manly looking man to like being shaven. Yet it was true. Julian seemed very happy about her doings. "Why did you make such a fuss when my friend shaved you?"
