Captive Beauty
I shove the box at her. She doesn’t take it at first, but I push and she extends her arms.
“Miss?”
“In the trash, Helen. Right away.” I’m fuming and walk out of the room, try the front door only to find it locked. I look around, not sure where to go, what to do. I don’t want to go back to my bedroom. I’m too angry. But I saw a pair of sneakers in my closet earlier, and some running clothes. I head up and change into them and go back downstairs. This time I don’t wait for Helen to come to the dining room. Instead, I walk into the kitchen.
She’s startled but I don’t care.
“I want to go for a run. Now.”
“Of course.” If she’s offended by my rudeness, she doesn’t let on. Instead, she picks up a phone and a moment later, there’s a man at the kitchen door. My babysitter, I guess.
“Keep up,” I snap, running past him and jogging around the terrace, past the swimming pool and into the wet, knee deep grass. I’m heading into the woods. I need to run, burn off some of this anger, because when Kill gets home, I need to be in control of myself. Because I’m going to tell him what I think of him and his stupid gift. I’m going to tell him where he can shove it. He thinks I’m some whore? That I fuck for money? For things? He can go fuck himself.
10
Kill
As if I don’t have enough on my mind, when I walk into Rockcliffe House, I see the laptop sitting on the kitchen table and from the look on Helen’s face, it’s not good.
“What?” I ask, opening the lid of the box which isn’t closed fully.
“She didn’t want it, Killian,” Helen says, turning her attention to the dishes.
The note inside is out of its envelope. I know exactly why she didn’t want it.
“Helen.”
She switches off the water and faces me, drying her hands on her apron. “Yes?”
“The girls can wash the dishes. That’s why they’re here.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I want them to do it. Not you.” She’s too old to work so hard.
“Okay, Killian.”
“Where’s Cilla?”
“In her room. She went for a run earlier and after taking a few books from the library, has been in the bedroom.”
“Did she eat anything today?”
“Exactly one bite of toast. She got very upset when she read the note,” she says, eyeing the box. “She seems like a nice girl, Killian—”
“It’s not that kind of relationship, Helen.” I open the fridge, grab a beer and twist off the cap. My back is to Helen.
“You don’t have to isolate everyone, you know,” she says.
I don’t respond. Helen’s known me for as long as I can remember. She practically raised me and Ginny.
“Be gentler with her. She’s scared,” she continues.
I close the fridge and face her. “She should be scared.” I pick up the box containing the laptop and walk out of the kitchen, draining half the bottle and setting it on the dining room table before going up the stairs to Cilla’s room. I don’t need this right now. Today has been a shit storm. She’s here for stress relief. Time she learned her place.
Not bothering to knock, I enter her room.
Cilla’s pulled a chair up to the window so her face is in the waning sun. She startles, drops her book as she stands.
“Knocking is polite,” she says after clearing her throat.
“It’s my house.” I go in and drop the box on her bed.
“It’s my bedroom for the next month.”
I go to her, but force myself to take slow, steady steps. I need to keep a tight leash on the anger she manages to bring up in me. She must see it because she backs up a little, although there’s not much space to retreat. She puts a hand on the back of the chair.
“Nothing is yours. Everything is mine.”
“Including me. I know. Did anyone ever tell you you’re like the bully on the playground?”
I stop a few feet from her. “Maybe I like being the bully.”
“You would.”
“I gave you a computer.”
“As payment for fucking you.”
“You said you need one for work.”
“I just wanted mine. I don’t need a brand new laptop, especially not when it’s in exchange for…that. I’m not a whore. I don’t need your money. We made a deal but that didn’t mean I gave you permission to treat me like a prostitute.”
“Permission?” I feel my eyebrows rise. “You needed to give me permission?”
She bends to pick up the fallen book, moves to the side, putting more space between us. I close it, back her into the wall, cage her in with my hands on either side of her head.
“I don’t remember asking permission being part of our deal.”
Emerald eyes stare at me. Her thick, dark bangs come to her eyebrows and only make the green seem starker by contrast. Her mouth is open and I see where I bit it yesterday. Tasted her blood. I touch my tongue to the tear on my own lip where she did the same to me.