“Personal, no,” I say. “It’s obligation, Norman. Lately, you seem to be confusing the two.”
I hear voices in the house before I even enter, which makes them easy to locate. When I stride through the kitchen doorway, Mrs. Anderson screams, raising her wooden spoon so spaghetti sauce flies across the cabinets.
Her husband jumps up from his spot at the dinner table. “What the fuck you doing, barging into my place like this?”
“We had a deal,” I say, slamming my fist on the wooden table. “What happened to the money?”
“I don’t know what you’re on about, Mr. Lawrence. Cataline’s got a check every month like we worked out.”
“And her savings?”
“Yup, she’s got that too. All, what was it, Lynne? Must’ve been twenty thousand or something close. She’s got it.”
“That so?” I ask. “I heard otherwise, Anderson.”
He picks something from his teeth as he studies me. Fear, something that I identify easily, is missing from his expression. His flannel is only half tucked, and I watch his eyes travel down my Armani suit. “Whatever you heard’s a lie, Mr. Lawrence. If it’s the girl telling you that, she’s a little liar. We raised her, we know. Something about growing up the way she did.”
If I were physically able to grow bigger, I would be right now. My muscles are tightening as adrenaline surges to all the dark corners of my body. “You’re saying she made it up?”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You talk to her?”
“Like I said, I heard it from somewhere else.”
“Young girl called here last month, asking after Cat. Said she’s missing, but the police done think she ran away and won’t do nothing.”
“I don’t know anything about that. You’re my only contact with her, and she’s your responsibility.”
“Not no more, not apart from getting her that money.” He nods at his wife without removing his beady eyes from me. “Lynne and I been talking. Want to know what your interest is in the girl.”
“I’ve told you, I can’t disclose that.”
“Well, maybe we disclose it to Cataline, you don’t get the fuck out of our house. I don’t know what gets you off about giving some little brat money, but I don’t think I want a part of it anymore. Perverted, high-class asshole.”
His words hang in the silence for a moment. His wife’s slight, uneven breathing borders on whimpering. Before she can even scream, I have him by the throat slammed up against the wall. “You’re a piece-of-shit liar,” I say calmly as his fingers pry at my grip. “I want a check for every last dime I’ve given you. The money I paid you and the money you were supposed to give Cataline. Right now.”
“I don’t have it,” he pants. “I gave it to Cataline.”
My grip tightens, and he’s coughing, a rough, dying noise that is music to my ears. I turn my head to his wife. “Tell me the truth, or that’s the last sound he ever makes.”
“We didn’t give it to her,” she cries. “We don’t got it, though.”
I release her husband without a look and walk over to her. She cowers against the counter, crying and muttering nonsensically.
“What’d you do with it?”
“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. We spent it on groceries, fixing the house, a new truck. I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.”
“You’re worthless scum. Your only purpose on this planet was to give Cataline a safe, happy home and deliver my money to her. You failed on both accounts. Have that check in my hands by the end of the week, and maybe I’ll let you both live.”
“Is that—are you threatening us?” she asks. “You can’t kill me. I have children.”
“You think I give a fuck? I’d be doing them a favor. And if you run, I’ll find you. I’m always up for a good chase.”
The man’s voice comes from the floor, where he’s crumbled against the wall. “Who are you?”
“I’m someone with the money, the power, and now, the motive to hunt you down. Nobody can save you from me. Get me my money. Understand?”
I don’t wait for an answer before I leave, busting their front door off its hinges in the process. There are female cries nearby. I know they have daughters younger than Cataline, but I can’t muster any sympathy for them. Instead, I get in my car and start back for New Rhone, calming myself with the thought that they’ll spend the next few days in sheer terror.
“Gone?” Norman asks.
“All of it. I don’t think they ever intended to give her a dime. And the stipend I provided them every month she lived there, I’ve no idea. She probably never benefited from it. How could I have missed it?”
“You couldn’t be there all the time. You did what you could. They’re the ones in the wrong, not you.” He watches me pace the room a moment. “You did well to contain your rage.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. I want to kill them still. I’m not sure I can’t.”
“You can. You’ve come too far, learned too much control to let it slip. Think of what it makes you to kill a family.”
“They deserve it,” I say.
“Perhaps they do. But not for this. Find me more evidence of wrongdoings, and we can revisit.”
I know he’s right. And the fact that I want them to pay so severely means I’m in too deep. Spending a day with her was imprudent on my part. She won’t know why she’s being punished, but that won’t make it any less sweet for me. It’s my responsibility to return us to captor and captive. Anything else can only mean more danger for both of us.
28
Cataline
When I kneel, it’s not in worship or gratitude. It isn’t to unload my sins and ask for absolution. It’s only under the guise of these things. In my heart, it comforts me to be in the Lord’s presence. It’s a selfish time for me, to ask for healing and to be brought back to my parents. I kneel in supplication.
The glow is not simply from the lit candles at the base of the statue of the Virgin Mary. It’s from a feeling of warmth and security that exists only in the sanctity of this room in a dark mansion. I ask for help, greedily, for relief, for guidance. It’s only my second time in the mansion’s chapel. It feels wrong to be in here after these past months, after the shameful things I’ve done.
My forehead touches my knuckles, my hair long and loose over my shoulders. Because everything in my closet is fitted, short, or sexy in some manner, Rosa has lent me a white, long-sleeved, shapeless dress. I am relatively calmer hidden beneath it with my sins. Deep in the recesses of my thoughts, I don’t hear Calvin enter. It’s the creak of the pew directly behind me that draws me from my prayer. His presence is strong at my back. Through the cotton of my gown, his hand cups my bottom, his fingers curling under but not quite reaching their target.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
His hand moves, rubbing me as my body devolves into pure panic. My heart stutters and stammers against my chest as his fingers move deeper toward my clit with each slide.
“Y-you can’t do this,” I stammer. “Not here.”
“I can do whatever I like to you because you’re my possession. I own you.”
“No, you don’t,” I say in hushed fury.
“I don’t?”
“No.”
The wood groans again, and his heat envelops me, his mouth moving to my ear. “You keep denying that you’re mine. Do you belong to someone else?”
“I belong to no one.”
“I’m glad you think so. I have a debt that can’t be paid with money. Since you don’t feel obligated to me, I think I’ll have you repay it on my behalf.”
“What are you talking about?” His massaging is harder now, my body warming against my every instinct. I fight it entirely, but his fingers are too skilled. When his other hand closes around my breast, my body convulses slightly.
“You’ll fuck my friend because I say so. Because you aren’t mine. Perhaps I’ll watch, or even record it so we can watch it together.”