Lies & Lullabies (29 page)

“As I’ve told you many times,” Catch whispered to her. “You never stood a chance of winning.” He withdrew, planting the short sword into her body over and over again.
 

Defeated, I collapsed on my knees, my head bowed, and my body left weakened.

Jory fell away from Catch, sliding lifelessly to the floor.
 

Warm tears trickled down my cheeks as I watched the blood seep out of her body and resemble inky red oil against the black mats.

Catch struggled to release a croaking round of laughter between bouts of coughing. He stood upright, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck. He was a beautiful maniac, drenched in another woman’s blood. The youthful innocence in his face would always bestow him with the permanent ability to mask his monster.

“I imagined the circumstances and the way you’d finally say those words.” Through his raw throat and panting breaths as his lungs overcompensated for the temporary lack of oxygen, the evil bled through his every word. “I fell short of the reality. That was fucking breathtaking.” He stared down at Jory’s lifeless body, his grin darkening. “A little disappointed you couldn't kill her, but when you yielded to me…” He bit into his lip, his eyes lifting to my face and holding me with a palpable ardency. “…The disappointment didn’t last very long.

“I told you Jory had a function, and now you know exactly what I meant. I’ll admit, I stumbled on new information by having her here; it reiterated why her purpose had to lead her where it did.” He grabbed my hand and jerked me up, holding me tightly. “We’re far from the end of the road, sweetheart. You have one final body to take care of tonight; Jory’s.”

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The shower water and several scrubbings of soap did nothing to remove what I felt on the surface of my skin. My skin had begun to prune and the bathroom had turned into a sauna. Visions of getting rid of yet another body sliced through my mind.
 

I killed her. Indirectly, I had killed her. There was no precedence on how to deal with my emotional fallout. I was completely lost.

The shower door slid open and I immediately stiffened.

“It doesn’t matter how many bars of soap you use, Simone.” Catch’s fingertips traced my spine, following upward until he found my tattoo.

 
I shivered as though the water had turned cold.
 

“You can’t wash me away. I’m a permanent mark on your skin.” He spun me around, pushing my back against the shower wall. I fought with the weakest counters I had ever enacted to take my opponent down. It was pointless flailing.

Catch never wavered, his strength was fueled by my fight. He picked up my thighs and pinned my body between his nude figure and the tile. My wrists were encaged in one hand and slammed above my head against the tile. Against the slippery marble wall, he shredded what was left of the woman I used to be.

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I bundled myself up in a bathrobe as I sat with my knees tucked to my chest on top of the duvet cover. I’d never been more cognizant of my body and the slight pudge in my stomach. My hands trembled as I looked at them thinking they were still dressed in Jory’s blood. I slid my hand between my thighs and my torso, touching my stomach.

“I have something for you.” Completely nude and damp from the shower, Catch crawled on top of the bed and opened his legs to cradle me between them. He swept his hands over his hair, pushing it away from his face.
 

He lifted up my hand and planted a familiar phone in it. The phone was precious to me for more than one reason. It was the only thing my mother had ever given me, and it held the last message she had ever left on my phone. I knew how Catch got it. I couldn’t understand why he kept it.
 

“Temple…worked for you?” My question hardly registered in volume.

“For a day.” His shoulders broadened as he wrapped his arms around me and brought me closer, scooting me across the bed toward him.
 

“Did you listen to what’s on it?”

“Don’t ask a question you know the answer to.”

“You’re fucking heartless,” I mumbled, keeping my voice soft to ensure he could barely hear me.

“If I was heartless I would’ve deleted the message.”

 
I looked longingly at the phone.

Sliding the phone out of my hands, he held it up at a distance and pressed a few buttons to tap into the voice mailbox.
 

“It’s Mommy, Simone,” my mother’s tired and ragged voice rang out, filling the bedroom with her words. “I guess I missed you again. Know that Mommy loves you with all her heart, and I’m sorry I didn’t show you how much every day. Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

But I didn’t see her alive again. She took her life shortly after she left the message.

-20-

T
HE
L
AST
C
HERRY

Daybreak blared into my eyes, inducing a headache. It was like the day after being inebriated, stuck between being drunk and sober with a hangover, and all the good effects of the night before were gone.
 

The foyer door remained open, bringing chilly air rushing into the house as the chauffeur picked up the bags and loaded them into the car, standing by to take us to the airport.
 

A cleaning crew of men and women dressed in blue jumpsuits gave the house a white glove treatment, cleaning things I didn’t think needed to be cleaned. The scent of the cleaning supplies made my stomach bubble.

I had no intention of packing my clothes; nothing belonged to me. It didn’t matter. One of the women on the cleaning crew packed everything for me and set a suitcase beside me. When I asked her about it, she simply said, “It was the boss’ orders.”

I was stuck with the all-white wardrobe, and wore a white cotton fit and flare dress and a white sweater. The color seemed to exemplify what Catch once thought of me. Easily dirtied and easily dulled. The dress I wore was as blindingly white as the walls in the home.

I squatted down and circled the crack in the marble floor of the foyer and craned my neck to look at the place where Michael had fallen to his death.
 

A member of the cleaning crew gave me a look, stating that they weren’t happy I had done that. When I walked away, he quickly stepped over to the crack and cleaned it with a spray cleaner and a white cloth.

From my position, I could see inside the sparring room. The mats were gone and the room was stripped.

“Miss Leone? The car is ready for you.” The chauffeur with a thick accent waved at me from the open doorway.

The taps of Catch’s shoes served as background noise to my sullen thoughts. “You shouldn’t be inside the house with the cleaning supplies permeating the air.” He grabbed my elbow, pulling me toward the door.

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An air pocket caused the jet to jar as I returned to my seat from the bathroom. I settled into a club chair at the small dining table, and stared at the clouds and blue horizon surrounding the plane. I sank into the chair, weakened by emotional pain I couldn’t cry out, and the exhaustion from having been manipulated, emotionally destroyed, and infiltrated with many images of death and torture.

A stewardess walked back from the bathroom and leaned down to Catch. “We will land in Colorado in about four more hours.”

As she returned to the front of the plane, I asked Catch, “Where are we going?”

“To see your sister.” Catch leaned back, resting his chin on his finger and placing another at the side of his jaw.
 

I glanced down the length of the plane to an open door with a small bed—a place away from Catch. “After I see her, I need a break to…sort through things.”

His head snapped in my direction, his expression was screwed into confusion.
 

“You wouldn’t fucking understand. I only want to…” I was as capable of leaving him as I was able to stop breathing.
 

The moment I stood, his arms were around me. As though the green light had been lit, his mouth claimed mine until I gave in and confirmed that through the fucked-up-ness that was us, I was the accelerant to his dark and consuming flame.
 

He picked me up and took me down on the couch. My body was flipped over with very little effort, and my legs were spread as he pressed himself against me.

He reached for a bottle of olive oil on the table in front of the couch. The cold sensation of the oil down the separation of my ass made me slightly jerk. A zipper receded. Clothing rustled. A thick throb rubbed against my thigh. Fingers explored, opening me slowly, gently—preparing me.

I heard a flight attendant gasp and her footsteps recede to the front of the plane.

Catch urged his cock inside a place that had never been fucked.

He fucked me until I came on his fingers as he played with my clit, and he flooded me with cum.

He fucked me until I opened back up and was reminded that no matter what he did to me or the people around me, there would always be elusive places inside me he exclusively owned.

 
When I tried to slip from underneath him, he rolled me on my back, keeping me in place.

His hair fell vertical down his forehead toward me. Doe-eyed and tender, he stared at me. “Your first in every way. And your last in the most important way. Never forget it.” A hand brushed across my cheek as he held himself up by way of his knees between my legs and a fist resting beside my head. He leaned down and shocked me with a gentle and sweet kiss.
 

Gliding down my body, he rested his head on my sternum and relaxed the full weight of his body on top of mine.
 

His touch tickled down my arm and brought my hand to the silky strands of his hair directing me to thread my fingers through them. Doing as he directed, I combed my fingers through his hair. He released a heavy breath and snaked his arms underneath me to hold me.
 

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Dust kicked up on the path toward a place I could only assume led to my sister. A steel building in the middle of errant desert land stood apart from the two-lane road. Catch pulled off to the side and told me to stay put as he exited the vehicle.

I flipped the rearview mirror over to my side and watched as he fiddled with something in the trunk. When he closed it, he came back with a gun—a silencer was attached to the barrel.

“My sister isn’t here. She couldn’t be. She would never work in a place like this. If she did, Catch wouldn’t need a gun,” I told myself.
 

Frustrated that I kept rationalizing the bullshit, I stepped out of the car and blocked his path to the entry. “You are not killing my sister, Catch. Haven’t you taken enough from me?”

He squinted at the bright sun sparkling in his eyes, making them appear a lighter shade of indigo. “I said her purpose depends on you. Do you think you acted poorly, or do you think you acted in a way that would ensure her safety?”

“I yielded. That should’ve been the end of everything.” I hugged my shoulders, feeling the sense of defeat over giving in. I knew better than to trust him. The knowledge didn’t stop me from the need to believe in him.

 
I stepped aside, following him into the building. At the door, he used a keycard reminiscent of the motherboard I saw him use at the hotel.
 

“Stay back,” he hissed at me and disappeared inside.

Gunfire rang out the second I caught up with Catch at the door. A man—well-armed—was caught unaware in the middle of picking up the phone mounted on the wall.

Behind the counter, a laptop showed a single camera feed of the place’s parking lot. They weren’t prepared for the assault because they weren’t paying attention to the monitor. The lobby was unassuming, and could’ve belonged to any small-town business. A few women shrieked and scattered around the receiving area. Their style of dress indicated the nature of the place.
 

As I studied their faces a little more, it became clear they weren’t women at all. They were children who looked like they were playing dress up in their mother’s makeup and clothes. The weariness in their eyes made them appear older. They’d seen and been through more than any child should have.
 

Standing in the place where children lost their innocence left me bereft of my ability to encase my feelings in ice. I was emotionally bleeding for them.
 

I made moves to usher them out of the building.

Catch kept his gun steady, as though he spotted someone in the hall, and blocked my path. “Get out here,” he projected his voice to be heard by the unseen person. “Now.”

“Okay,” the familiar voice conceded.