by Ann Raina
"He pretends he doesn't listen, Kyra, but I'm sure he knows that you're happy with what you do. And that is what counts."
"Ah, another attempt at psychiatrist mode?"
"Is it a crime to be observant?"
She stood. "No. But I don't want any of your observations."
Julian leaned back and, after a glimpse out the window, said, "It was nice to jog without being shackled."
Kyra could not help but smile. She admitted that he had a talent for changing the subject in the right moment. "You'd be really stupid to try and make a break with two cops trailing behind, right?"
"Not in the bad weather, no." The sparkle in his eyes deepened her smile. He could look like a youngster. Right now he rocked back, slumped on the chair like a student in class and gave her a queer look. "You'd do it. It's your game. You enjoy it."
With the mugs in her hand she gave him the I don't get a thing look.
"Control," he said, and it was no question but a statement. "You like control. You said so. You want to get me under control."
"We had this settled. If you don't want it you can always call it quits."
The chair fell back on its four legs. "You can't and I can't."
"So?"
"I'm addicted. It's worse than any drug." He threw his hands in the air, pretending helplessness with the cutest of all looks.
The gesture was not lost on Kyra and she needed all strength of will to just say, "You lie." She put the mugs in the dishwasher and cleared the table.
"Why should I? The weeks were tough on me, believe me."
"Sorry that I didn't feel like playing after the incidents."
"I didn't say that I don't understand, I just said it was tough. It felt like a very long time."
She searched his face, leaning against the counter, trying not to give away a thought.
"You don't want to believe that I could be more than a convict, right?"
She opened her mouth for a witty or even scathing reply, but came up with nothing. Just watching him sit and look at her with these serious and gorgeous brown eyes made thinking as complicated as juggling bowling pins and shooting targets at the same time.
"Is it that you never admit what you feel?"
She blinked. She did not want to discuss her life with Julian and still the words came out of her mouth all by themselves. "Chris trampled on my feelings like a bulldozer. He wanted to manipulate me, make me his creation." She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, closing herself off. Chris had been charming and gentle in the beginning. The caring, unselfish gentleman that made her heart thud. He had won her over and her parents soon afterwards. Chris was the picture of the well educated, loving and understanding man everybody wanted, but only few got. "He invaded into all parts of my life until I wanted him out. Only out. Not thinking, not anything. Just out of the way."
"Do you think I would do the same?"
"I don't know." She lowered her gaze, trying to stay cool. She had promised herself to stand her ground and not let any man, no matter how handsome or lovable, take control of her life. Never again. "I don't want to think about it."
"And so you don't let me into your life."
"You're here, aren't you?" His look told her she was silly and he no fool. Fine, so he looked through the lie. Why should I care?
"I wonder if you let any person come close. I mean, you're so giving, so full of love and care, but you withhold most of it." Julian exhaled. "It's such…"
"If you say pity I will leave."
"No, not pity," he replied, though she knew he had wanted to say it, "trust. You need someone to trust."
"And that should be you?"
Her glance was full of mockery and he flinched. She put the plates into the dishwasher. He talked to her back. "No, I'm just a convict who happens to stay at your house. A nobody. I just fill an empty space of your home and, after five months I'll be gone and forgotten."
Kyra was glad he could not see her face, not read how much his words unnerved her. He was right and she refused to agree. All her daydreams would explode on the day that he would be free. He would just leave. Somewhere deep inside she knew that he would be happy to be gone sooner than later.
"Don't deny yourself some happiness."
Kyra jumped for he stood right beside her. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss her if he stooped.
"Just take it and hold it fast."
"Get away from me." She closed the dishwasher with her knee.
His eyes and voice were gentle, like a soft touch. "I am under your command, you don't need to prove it every moment." He stood his ground and forced her to either stand or move away.
Kyra stepped left and switched on the machine. She tried for anger and failed. He made her heart race and stirred lust, if not love, inside her. There was no room to admit these feelings. Not yet. She wanted to belong to somebody, to forget Chris and throw her heart and soul into a new relationship. "You corner me, Julian. Don't."
He sighed, and it held more than pity or frustration. He tried to understand her, make her admit what she thought or felt and every time he hoped to get an answer she withdrew. "I didn't say that you have to choose me. Just someone. You're one of those people, who shouldn't stay alone. Chris disappointed you, but you can't be disappointed for the rest of your life."
"Yeah, that would be way too long."
"Right what I say." He smiled tentatively, waiting for her to give in, make the step back, but she turned away.
"I need to check my mails. And you..." She glanced over her shoulder, smiling sweetly, "Should get started and clean up the house."
He grimaced. "I knew you'd say that. I hate cleaning."
"Yep, me too. That's why you do it."
* * * *
The Boston Herald wrote on Tuesday, November 30th, 2021, 'Commissioner Hammer announces breakthrough in organized crime.' A drug smuggling gang with more than fifteen members was arrested yesterday evening during a combined raid of police forces and DEA. More than eighty thousand dollars in cash as well as forty pounds of tablets containing Fidelity were confiscated. The commissioner told the press in an interview that the drug dealers and their boss would face an honest, but fast trial. He said that this first step would lead to many others. Raids like that one are planned to take place sooner than later in other districts of the city. Agreements of joint initiatives with suburbs and closest cities are already on the way.
The news on the hitman, who had tried to assassinate the commissioner, was in no way comparable so they did not make it to the first page. Though every man and his mouse were still searching for him he had so far escaped with the slickness of wet soap. The picture of the John Doe who had been captured at Kyra's house, filled the space accompanied to the text, but police were uncertain if they searched for the right man.
Another article, banned to page three, reported that the first group of delinquents, who had chosen the worker program, finished their time of service. A photo was attached with three men smiling into the cameras and showing off their necks without the collars. The reporter concluded that now more business owners would apply for workers of the program. The success of the first twenty-five men and women spoke for itself.
Kyra sneezed and held the paper out for Julian to take. "Read it. You're with the next group. Only two months left." She sneezed again and pulled up her legs on the couch while Julian sat on the two steps near the kitchen.
"Bless you." He gazed at the article. "They make a celebration of it."
"Why not?" She groped for the Kleenex box, but he was faster and handed it to her from the counter while he still studied the page. "Thanks. It's a citywide initiative. People should be proud to have made it. And the shop owners should also be shown. They took the effort to give them a chance."
He smiled, stretching his right leg and hovering closer to the couch. "I'm about to abase myself at your feet."
"Right here? At once?"
He put his chin on the armrest and gazed up into her
face. "Of course. How can you doubt it?"
She blew her nose, tossed the hanky away and turned back to him. His puppy eyes made her smile. "I won't stop you, but I'm so down I won't even swing a hand tonight."
"So I can just curl myself around your feet and pretend that you like me without using a whip?"
There it was again, that wonderful sparkle of joy in his eyes. Kyra reached out and touched his clean shaven cheek. There was much about Julian Bithrell she still found a mystery, but she understood growing friendship and, yes, lust leading to…whatever. She did not know yet, and she did not question her feelings. She felt good at his side.
He took her hand. "You're cold but your face looks like you sweat."
"I said I feel rather bad."
"I could tuck you into your bed."
She drew back her hand, gently, smiling. "It's not that bad. Yet. I hope I won't catch a flu or something. There's much work at the shop. The last Christmas items and…" She sneezed again and coughed. "My, this will be really great tomorrow."
CHAPTER 16
There was no way Kyra would make it to work the next morning. She barely came out of bed let alone dress and drive. Her throat was sore, she coughed when she breathed and her nose was the worst. She stood at the sink, using both hands to steady herself, and waited for the water to heat up. Nothing works better than a hot peppermint tea when you feel sick.
"You don't go to work today, right?" Julian stood with the same grace she had observed during the weeks. She found it hard to believe that there were only two months left now. He would be free at the end of January. "You look…really sick."
"Like shit, I know." She drew up her nose. Her voice was hoarse. "I'll call in sick and…ask my mom to buy some stuff for me at the drugstore."
"I could do it."
The words were so nice and harmless, Kyra smiled. It turned to another coughing fit, but she managed to say, "If I let you go out alone a squad might see you and then…" She shrugged once. "You know."
"It's ridiculous."
"I would ask the friendly policemen, but their service ceased this morning." She shrugged. "Obviously the hitman left town."
Julian took the full kettle and filled two mugs with hot water before he searched for the tea she wanted. "What good am I if I can't help?"
Kyra watched him and felt oddly comforted. Julian behaved as if he already lived here. My, that thought warmed her body more than tea of any kind. He actually knew she wanted two spoons of sugar. He handed her the mug. "Thanks. You are helping, Julian. You help yourself with good work. The day's not far away that you'll be rid of that collar and walk free again." She shivered. It was more than cold.
"Anything else I can do for you?"
"Not at the moment. Help yourself to some breakfast." She walked to the far side of the kitchen, took the telephone to the couch and informed Sabrina that she would stay home before she called her mother. "Sorry to interrupt your breakfast," she said when pottery clanked in the background. "Shall I call later?"
"No, of course not. We got a visitor, but there's always time for you. You know that."
"I want to ask you a favor."
"Sure." Lara Jennings chewed and swallowed then her voice sounded clear. "You sound pretty stuffed up."
"Right. Could you fetch something against the cold and cough from your drugstore?"
"Sure, Ky, of course. What else?" Kyra gave her a list of groceries then her mother asked, "And what about that convict? What will you do with him?"
"He stays, too."
"You have him locked up, I hope?"
"He's here with me, mom, don't worry."
"Yes, I do worry, I told you so. Kyra, if you're not even able to drive to work… And I know that you like your work and don't chicken out because of some sneezing. Then it's really bad, and I don't want you alone with him. Call the police, tell them to keep him locked up for the week."
"Mom, I'm okay. I can handle it." She said goodbye and hung up before Lara could start another debate.
"Your mom wants me shackled to the wall?" Julian asked from behind the counter. "Or does she still prefer the kennel?"
Kyra lowered her chin. Her head hurt like hell and she so did not want another discussion, not even with Julian. "She's got her opinion, I've got mine." She dialed the number of the closest police station and told the officer of the day that she would stay home, at least for two days. "I don't want support," she replied his offer, "I can handle the situation." Kyra threw the phone on the couch beside her and rested her head. Her eyes closed all by themselves and she sighed. "God, I haven't felt so bad for years."
"Go back to bed then. I'll let your mom in." She squinted when he appeared in her field of vision, smiling.
"Oh, right, and she'll either faint or get a screaming fit."
He crouched with the cereal bowl balanced on the palm of his hand. "I'll tell her that she can shackle me when she leaves. Maybe that will soothe her. Please," he said when she contradicted, "you should rest. If you don't want me upstairs, fine, I'll stay down here and do the laundry."
"You would?"
"I'm here to serve, am I not?"
Kyra wet her dry lips and groped in her robe pocket for another handkerchief. "If I wasn't feeling so bad I'd use those words against you."
"No, Kyra, for me, not against." He munched on when she slowly rose and walked back upstairs.
"Don't upset my mom, okay? Do what she asks you to do and stay the hell away from her."
"A safe distance so she can't slap me?"
"No joke, Julian, I don't want any trouble. Not with her and certainly not with you."
* * * *
There was a knock on the door then Kyra heard voices from the hall. She was drowsy, but not that drowsy. One voice belonged to Julian, but the other also to a man. She opened her eyes and strained to listen.
"Oh, you work for a grocery store now?"
"What the fuck are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the kennel? I knew Mrs. Jennings was right to send me and check. What have you done with my girlfriend?"
Upstairs Kyra buried her face in her hands. Chris. Of all the people my mom could have sent it had to be Chris Balfour. Her stomach tightened. The two men together were like dynamite and burning fuse. She rose and took her robe from the foot end.
"I did nothing. And you're no longer her boyfriend. She kicked you out. So leave the stuff and go."
"I won't leave without looking after her."
"She's asleep and no one should disturb her. She's really sick."
"And what would you know about it?" Chris tried to cross the hall to the stairs, but Julian blocked the way. Upstairs Kyra watched the scene, swaying and gripping the railing.
"I'm all right," she said and sneezed. "Just a cold. Nothing I can't handle."
"Kyra!" Chris looked up to her and Julian turned with an apology on his lips. "I'm so glad to see you! Your parents are worried shitless about you."
"And they sent you?" She put all scorn in that one sentence. "I told you the last time that I don't want to see you again. Nothing's changed."
"But, Kyra…" He used the moment of inattentiveness and was on the second step before Julian turned. "You need me here. You need me to take care of you and to keep that scum away from you. He has to be locked up. I don't want to imagine what he could do to you! I can help you."
"Go!" Kyra locked eyes with Julian, pleading for help when Chris took the next step. "Get out of here and never return." She stepped backwards, one hand still on the rail, the other at the collar of her robe. "Please, leave me alone." Chris's presence made her sicker than the cold and she felt the stairway turn around her. She used both hands on the rails to not topple and fall.
"Your mom asked me to--"
Julian grabbed his shoulder from behind and swiveled him around. "She said, leave."
Chris brought up his fist fast enough to force Julian backwards. They were brawling at once, fast, ruthless. Short, hard jabs, followed by uppercuts and one-t
wos that meant all the hurt they held. They hit as hard as they could as if they had waited for just this moment. Both men, though not equal in height, possessed terrifying speed and strength. They matched and, for a few seconds no one got an advantage, but took the blows as they happened and rode out the pain.
Kyra made her way downstairs. Her legs were weak, but she could not just look and do nothing. "Stop!" she shouted, but no one even blinked. It was as if she was not there, just an observer of a silent show of brutal strength.
Chris drove Julian back against the wall aside the door. He grunted, grimaced, but did not waver. A framed picture slithered off the hook and shattered. Neither man noticed. They were spinning so fast a chair in the hall smashed against the wall and toppled over. The small table was next. A glass ashtray hit the wooden floor with a dull thud, keys and Kyra's purse followed. Julian caught a backhand from Chris, but wound his arm around the other's in a fluent motion. Chris screamed, but freed himself with a jab against Julian's chin. Julian dropped the arm to punch him in the stomach hard enough to stop him. Chris doubled over, panting, moaning. Grimacing with pain, Julian shoved him through the open door on the porch. Chris staggered, breathless, and fell on his knees, head hanging for a moment. He panted and turned to see Julian stand on the threshold, equally whipped, equally pushed to the limit. He put his hands on his thighs.
"You son of a bitch!" Chris wiped his bloody mouth. His face was contorted with rage to be cast out. "You fucking son of a bitch!"
Kyra was at door, watching the man she had loved once. Her head spun, but she needed to be there, needed to see with her own eyes that Chris was out of her house. She felt grim satisfaction, but also anger beyond belief. "Don't you ever dare come back! When I see you here one more time I'll call the police! Piss off!"
"That was your last day here!" Chris screamed at Julian, pointing a finger. He made it back to his feet. "You're gonna pay for this! You're gonna pay, I swear!" He walked to his car, slowly straightening, cursing the whole time.
