Dirty Nails (3 page)

I walked quickly back to the cage so that I could finish. I needed some medicine for my head and I wouldn’t get it until the room was done. Sketch was blocking the entrance and I couldn’t get past him. I stared at a small crack in the floor and waited for him to move.

I watched his hand move up to my face and I closed my eyes tightly hoping that he wouldn’t do anything crazy. Just because I thought he wouldn’t hurt me didn’t mean that I was right. I still barely knew him.

His fingers stopped on my chin and he lifted my face up towards his. When I opened my eyes, I saw him looking at my cheek. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. There was guilt on his face.

“It’s okay Sketch. I deserved it. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

He released me and stepped aside for me to go in.

“Sketch,” I said softly. He turned to face me. “It’s just a little bruise.” I bit my lip and fought back the tears again.

He didn’t reply. He turned back around. But for the first time in a while I heard him mumble a lot. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he hardly stopped. I remember when he told me that was his demon, and I as I scrubbed the floor, I wondered if he wished he could turn it off right then.

Three- Dinner is served

              After I finished cleaning the cage, I went to my room for a few minutes to change and put on a bit of makeup to cover my bruise. What I really wanted to do was curl up in a ball on my bed and sleep for the rest of the day. That wasn’t happening. I slipped on a comfortable dress and some heels, because I had to make an impression when we had guests, an uncomfortable impression.

              Sketch was off playing sidekick to Max and I was left in the kitchen with one of the other meatheads. At the usual dinner parties I’d serve around fifteen or twenty people. This time would be no different. I prepared an Italian dish, salad, and dessert. The table settings were all placed accordingly. Max would sit at the head of the table and I would usually sit to his left.

              I tightened the strings of my pink apron as I walked back into the kitchen.

              “Smells good love,” Max said as he stepped into the kitchen. I wouldn’t say that he walked, because his body was fluid and smooth like a bottle of aged whiskey. Walked would be too simple a word for him.

              He looked so handsome in his dark blue suit and matching tie. When I reached out to touch him, he pulled me in tightly.

              “I’m not happy with the way you acted earlier.” He stated. His arms were wrapped around me and his hands rested firmly on my ass. My ass cheeks were like magnets when it came to his hands.

              “I know. I was out of line and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

              “Good,” he kissed me gently on the cheek where the bruise was, making sure to be extra careful not to hurt me. This was my Maxwell. He was the sweet man that caressed me and protected me. He only showed his face when he had drugs in his system. Max was the brute, angry man that was with me most of the time. I didn’t get to see the softer side often, but when I did, I took full advantage.

              “Will I be sleeping in your room tonight?” I asked.

              “Mmm,” he moaned. My skirt eased its way up my backside until I felt his warm hands on the bare skin of my ass. “Is that what you want?” His voice was rough and grumbly in my ear.

              I had goose bumps from head to toe. “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

              “Then you better be good love.” He released me.

              “I will.”

              “Tonight, you’ll only be serving and clearing the meal. You won’t be joining us.”

              “Okay,” I hesitated. I always joined, that was the whole point of wearing the stupid dress, and the break my neck heels. He was up to something, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I really didn’t want to know.

              “I’ll see you later tonight. Don’t forget to serve the wine.” He called out as he walked towards the dining room. “The guests will arrive in about thirty minutes.”

              When I looked back at the entrance of the kitchen I saw Sketch standing there propped up against the frame of the doorway. His pitch-black suit fit him like a glove. It was made for him. It lay perfectly against his broad shoulders and the dark red tie set it off. There was no leather jacket or boots. The roughness of his face was still there, but his dark brown hair was different. It was still messy, but in a good way. A just washed, run my fingers through it kind of way. I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. My face wasn’t the only thing that heated up at the sight of him.

              “Wine?” He gave me a sidelong glance and snapped me back to reality.

              “Right, ugh, wine.” I stumbled all over my words as if I’d never learned to speak.

              I made a mental note to wear a bib when Sketch was in a suit. Otherwise I’d drool all over myself. My thoughts were the only things that were actually mine, and at that moment I was sure glad.

              My hands and my brain weren’t on the same page. I couldn’t get the wine to open and I couldn’t get that dark red tie off my mind. Stupid bastard was making things way to damn hard for me. Was it too much to ask for him to tone down the sexy? I mean really. You’d have to be blind to not look at him when he walked into a room.

              Sometime between getting the wine, and struggling to open it, he’d left the room. Finally I could get my focus under control. I was supposed to be angry with him for hitting me, but I was far from it.

              Big dumb ox…

              I poured the wine into the glasses as the guests started to arrive. There were a lot of new faces, and of course the familiar ones that I’d rather not see. I was graceful and polite, making sure that I smiled big for the newcomers. I suspected that several of these men would be present at the show next Monday. What they wouldn’t give to get their hands on Maxwell Costin’s treasure. Of course that would mean they’d be five fingers shy and they’d have a mighty hard time trying to wipe their asses. That thought made it hard for me to contain a giggle.

              I was paraded around for the first few minutes before Max sent me to bring out the salads. In other words, “Get out so we can talk.” I could read between the lines.

              Pressing my luck, I stole a glance at Sketch as I was setting the salad plates down on the table. I made sure that Max didn’t see me. Sketch never looked back. I suppose that was good, even though there was tiny bit of disappointment in my stomach.

              Max signaled for me to exit quickly with his eyes, so I did. I ate my salad slowly in the kitchen before I served up the actual dinner. I wanted to make sure that they had plenty of time to eat before I interrupted them.

              It took nearly two hours to serve them and wait idly by in the kitchen for them to finally move to the deck out back. I should have known that this was one of those times where the party wouldn’t end after the meal. Where they pretended to be kings of their thrones and talk about taking over the world. BORING. I imagined they were standing around sipping their drinks and snorting up a line of Max’s finest. At least my work was done for the evening. I could clean up and spend the rest of the night reading in my room.

              Thank the Lord.

              A room full of drug loading testosterone was too much for one girl. That’s all I was, one lonely girl.

I can remember a time when I wasn’t the only girl here. There used to be two of us but that didn’t last long, and I never knew what happened to her. But she wasn’t to Max what I am. I never knew what she was exactly. She showed up one cold night, and nearly a week later she was gone. One of those don’t ask don’t tell situations. I found myself involved in those a lot.

              Occasionally there were women here as a guest during parties, but that was it. I was the only one. That I knew of anyway. I’m sure these men had their conquests outside of this house, Maxwell included, but too much business happened behind these walls to include outsiders.

I was probably supposed to be like that girl and only stay a week, but I suppose he felt sorry for me. No family or friends, and I was only ten years old when he first took me in. At first it was like a babysitting job. Keep me under control and safe. He even hired a private tutor for me that worked around the clock to see that I finished my education. I wasn’t allowed to tell them my real name though, so I’m not sure it even counted. Shay has an education. Sadie doesn’t. It wasn’t like I’d ever use it. I was seventeen at the time I finished my education, but I was sixteen when I had my first sexual experience with him. Nothing happened before then. It was consensual when it finally did happen, and though he was not easy with me, I enjoyed it. He was the only man that I had been around, and I had feelings for him. Maybe it wasn’t love, but he took care of me when I had no one else.

              I had serious issues. He was the one that taught me that a little bit of pain on the outside would help me forget about the lingering pain inside. 

              The nails worked. When I got frightened or nervous or even sad, they’d take it all away. If I didn’t have them I’d probably go off the deep end. Literally.

              “Max said to check on you.”

              “Shit!” I dropped the plate on the table. “You scared me.”

              “Sorry,” Sketch said. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket anymore and he had the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked more like himself.

              “It’s okay. I’m fine. Just finishing up here, and then I’m going to my room. I shouldn’t be long.” I stacked the pile of dishes in my arms and walked towards the kitchen door.

              “Do you want some help?” He asked.

              I almost crapped my pants. He’d not spoken more than ten words to me since he’d met me and now he was offering to help. My feet were planted and I was looking at him like an alien had abducted his body. He was a lot more laid back.

That made it all more crystal clear. He must’ve taken some of Max’s happy drugs. Either that or he was a sappy drunk.               “I can handle it. You can go back to the party.”

              “Just following orders.” He stood back against the wall and watched as I finished clearing the table. Then he followed me to the kitchen where I washed and cleaned up the mess of dishes. Sketch was a bit wobbly on his feet and was talking a lot to himself.

              “Would you like to sit down?” I pointed to the stools that sat on the other side of the butcher-block island.

              I didn’t think he would, but he surprised me when he took the seat. He ran his hands over his face and the lines deepened on his forehead. He was disoriented.

              I poured him a glass of water and grabbed the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet. I’d grown used to taking care of the men in this house. He’d be no different. It was unusual seeing him like this though. The beast was more like the pauper, actually in need of someone’s assistance. Never thought I’d see the day.

              “Here, you should take these. It will make you feel better.” I sat the glass and pills on the wooden block in front of him. I stayed on the opposite side, not getting too close. He could snap at any time. I knew that first hand with Max.

              He looked up at me, then without another word he swallowed the pills. He always had an angry expression on his face. Rarely, did I see any other faces. This was one of those rare times. It made me nervous. I reached for my wrist and ran my fingers along the deep scars. I needed my nails. I tried to take a deep breath, but I couldn’t. I had to look away. My body was tense and I had to get the hell out of the kitchen, and away from the heat of his stare.

              Wiping down the last of the countertop, I grabbed my dirty dishrag and switched off the light above the stove.

              “I’m going to my room now.” I didn’t wait for a reply just left the room in a hurry. I felt uneasy.

              “I’m supposed to make sure you get there okay.” His footsteps fell in sync with mine as we moved in the direction of my bedroom.

              I just wanted to run, to sprint as fast as I could and lock myself away in my room. No one ever looked at me like that, like I did some amazingly good deed. I barely remember my parents other than that God awful day, but what I do remember, is they never even looked at me liked that either. It was foreign and it turned my insides to mush. I needed my nails, and I needed them fast.

              Real fast.

              “Good night Sketch,” I said quickly when I reached my door. No way I was standing there waiting for his response. I slammed the door and ran for my nightstand. Just feeling the bag on my fingertips was relief, one step closer to breathing. I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

              I emptied the bag of nails onto the countertop around the sink. They were dirty and old, but they were mine.

              Yes, dirty.

              I didn’t give a damn. They came from the closet inside my parents’ bedroom where I was hidden for almost two days after their murder. I dug them out of the board that ran across the bottom of the closet. I remember the way they made my fingers bleed when I pulled them out of the wood.

              I bunched them together in my right hand and ran the pointed edge along the skin inside of my left wrist.

              It was sweet fucking release.

              When the first drop of blood dropped into the sink. I felt like all the pent up breath inside of me was let go. It was better than an orgasm.

              Much better.

              A hard knock sounded on the bathroom door and it startled me. It was too early for Max to be knocking.

              “Be right out.” I called.

              When I opened the door I nearly slammed into Sketch.

The beast.

              I swear he was double my height, and all I could see was a wall of chest. It was fully clothed, but still sexy in a shirt.

              I had a wad of toilet paper against my open sores, because I was expecting Max not Sketch. Not that I had anything to hide from Sketch. He’d seen me in action. He stepped back a couple of steps and held out his hand. Inside of it were two Band-Aids.