Taken - Page 24

The pair sat in the armchairs watching Jane as she stripped and remade their huge bed. It was difficult to work in the oversized, too-high heels, and Jane nearly twisted her ankle twice while tottering around the bed as she worked. She was careful to make hospital corners and smooth the sheets just so before pulling up the blanket and red satin spread. The pillows were nicely plumped and the bed, despite its tacky décor, looked so inviting she very nearly gave in to her impulse to fall onto it.

When she was done, Brenda came over to inspect her handiwork. She yanked back the carefully made spread and blankets and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on the sheets. “Stupid girl,” she shouted. “You can’t even make a bed properly.” Before Jane could respond, she struck her across the face. “Make it again. Do it right this time.”

The force of the blow snapped Jane’s head to the side as she gasped in pain, her cheek on fire. Her hands moved automatically to cover her burning cheek as she struggled to swallow her rage. The bitch was determined to find fault no matter what she did.

Tears stinging her eyes, Jane remade the bed, this time eliciting an accepting grunt, thank god.

The couple lay down on the newly made bed as Jane gathered the clothing from the floor and took it to the hamper. She then dusted and vacuumed the room. She stumbled twice in the too-large high heels, but fortunately caught herself before falling. As Jane worked, the pair groped each other on the bed. She did her best to ignore them.

“Don’t forget the closet,” Brenda called from the bed. “Tidy up and vacuum.”

Jane tottered into the huge walk-in closet, vacuum cleaner and dust rag in hand. The racks were filled with clothing—enough to stock an entire store, so it seemed to Jane. And the shoes! She had never seen so many pairs of expensive-looking high heels. They were laid out in pairs on racks set beneath the hanging clothes around the entire perimeter of the large space.

As she vacuumed the carpet, she noticed what looked like a metal plate with a keypad set into the floor, which was cut around it. She was about to crouch down to inspect it when Brenda’s voice startled her.

“What’s taking so long in there, frog?” Brenda called out sharply. “Get your ass back out here and clean the bathroom.”

Jane hurried out, sidling past the pair still sprawled on the bed. Leaving the vacuum cleaner near the door, she made her way to the bathroom. The large space was tiled in marble, with dual sinks, a private toilet stall, a large glassed-in shower and a huge Jacuzzi tub. Her heels clicked against the marble as she walked toward the sinks.

There was an open tube of toothpaste on the counter, a dried blob of the stuff beside it, next to a half-empty glass of water. The mirror was splattered with dried water droplets. Towels were thrown here and there, along with underwear and more clothing. These people were total slobs.

She caught a glance of herself in the mirror and looked quickly away. Unable to help herself, she looked back. She took in the matted, greasy hair, the purple smears of fatigue beneath her hollow eyes, and the myriad bruises and marks on her breasts and thighs. Hesitantly, she turned around, twisting back to see her image. She lifted the silly skirt, biting her lower lip to keep from crying out at what she saw.

Her ass was bruised, the skin mottled and blotchy with a crisscross of fading welts. Horrified, she dropped the skirt and turned quickly back around. She picked up the toothpaste and squirted a dollop onto her fingers. Glancing back toward the bedroom, she saw the couple still going at it on the newly made bed, both of them now naked, Robert with his head buried between Brenda’s legs.

Looking away in disgust, she rubbed the toothpaste over her teeth and gums. Turning on the faucet in one of the sinks, she cupped some water in her hands and rinsed her mouth. She would have loved a proper brushing, but this was definitely better than nothing.

She capped the toothpaste and washed the glass. Opening the cabinets under the sinks, she pulled out various cleaning sprays and a roll of paper towels. She wiped down the counters and polished the mirror. Then she picked up the damp towels and discarded clothing.

As she worked, she could hear the couple talking softly in their bedroom. Then she heard Robert say, “Where’s my watch? The gold Rolex you got me for Christmas?”

“In the safe,” Brenda replied.

Jane could hear rustling and then Robert’s voice, louder this time. “What’s the combination to the safe, again? I forget.”

“It’s my birthday, stupid,” Brenda replied, exasperation in her tone. “I swear to god, you wouldn’t remember your head if it wasn’t attached.”

Tags: Claire Thompson Romance
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