Don't Be Shy 27

There was always the burst of aggravation when she dealt with Violado that threatened to tip over into anger, but it never made it. There was an innocence to anger. A belief that you were blameless where someone else sinned. A knowledge that you didn’t deserve what was done to you. Lena didn’t have that. The bright ember of her frustration found no dignity; her would-be anger burned up all the air and then went dead, leaving her breathless, lethargic. Tired from the strain of being immovable.

Lena drove for hours, waiting for the miasma to pass. She didn’t want to face Kara like this. It’d take too many explanations. She just wanted to be Mistress Lena and please her. It was so gratifying to punish Kara, to be inviolate… to feed her all the anger and lust and perversion and only hear pure pleasure back from that sweet voice. But, impossible to gather her thoughts. The engine was running on fumes before she realized she needed to refuel. She pulled into the gas station and resolved to try and sleep this feeling off, in her own bed. No point in trying to get back to what she’d had, not today. Like always with Violade, she was a little dirtier than when she started.

She parked the car on autopilot. Without that meager requirement of concentration, she grew so bleary that she didn’t experience going into the Continental, taking the elevator, putting the key in the lock. Suddenly she was just inside her apartment, with Kara there, holding out an envelope to her on the hotel stationary.

“I wrote you your letter,” Kara said proudly. “Open it.”

She was so cute. Pure, innocent, despite all they’d done. Kara was a woman who could spend ten hours at an orgy and no matter what she did, how many times she came, she’d still be… good. Nice. Just one of God’s creatures enjoying herself, with no darkness. No urges that needed to be sated. No demons she had to exorcise. She was normal. Whatever sex she had, it was sex the way people were supposed to have sex.

Lena stood there, not taking the envelope, not even thinking to take it. She wanted to look at Kara. She wanted to stop looking at Kara. God knew what she’d subject her to if she stared long enough for her needs to re-exert themselves.

“Lena? Are you okay?” Kara asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Lena replied, and belatedly took the letter.

“You’re shaking. And your eyes are red. Like you’ve been crying.”

“I haven’t been crying,” Lena told her.

“Maybe you should. Get it all out of your system.”

Kara reached to Lena’s back, beginning to rub along her spine, and Lena pulled away from her.

“There’s nothing I need to get out,” she said, then looked down at the letter. She’d crinkled it, her hands convulsing as she’d jolted away from Kara’s touch like it was a hot frying pan.

“Okay,” Kara said gently. “Why don’t you sit down? Please?”

That did sound good. Blood was pounding in Lena’s temples. Her vision blurred—she started trying to blink it away, then stopped. The last thing she needed to do was start blinking like a strobe light. Then Kara would really worry; she didn’t deserve to worry. What had she ever done, besides have a run of bad luck that had been punished already with ‘Mistress Lena’?

Kara shadowed her to the loveseat. Lena wondered why. Then it occurred to her sluggish brain that Kara was staying close in case she fell. Lena dropped into the seat and leaned back, feeling a little better now that her weight was off her sagging bones.

Kara knelt down in front of her and Lena felt a frisson of interest. It’d be nice to have Kara bowing to her. But what Kara was doing was unstrapping her heels.

“Do you need anything?” Kara asked, carefully easing the shoes off her feet.

I need pills. I need a smoke. I need a drink. I need all kinds of things that I can’t have because just one, no matter how small, starts me down the slope. I’m on a roller coaster at the top of a hill and it only takes one indulgence to drop me. You’re the only thing I can treat myself to because you don’t make me want to get high, drunk, stoned. All you make me want is more of you.

The letter was still crinkling in her hand. Lena unfolded it and looked at it. It said You Can Have My Ass. She grunted a smile—not that Kara could see it.

“I expected at least a wry chuckle,” Kara admitted.

“I’m not precisely in the mood.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Wanna talk about it?”

Lena shook her head.

“Can I get you something? A sandwich? Jell-o?”

“I want to be left alone,” Lena said, her voice cracking.

“I don’t think you do. I can sit with you, if you want.” Kara lowered herself down to the cushion beside Lena’s, her legs drawn up under her. “I know you’re particular about being touched, but maybe…” She reached down. Her hand surrounded Lena’s fingers interlocking, thumb lining up with hers. “Is that alright, Lena?”

Lena couldn’t speak, but her hand tightened spastically on Kara’s. She shut her eyes. Kara gently ran her thumb along the ridge her bone made through the skin.

“Lena, say it’s alright. I really want to be doing this… okay…”

Lena’s head drifted down until it was lying on Kara’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” she whispered.

“Good. Good.” Kara nodded to herself. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to think about it right now. Just relax. Close your eyes. Breathe. I’m here.”

Need, frantic and overwhelming, clawed at the inside of Lena’s skull. She hadn’t realized how bereft she was. She was alone—she was stranded in loneliness—but she didn’t have to be. She pushed herself on top of Kara, slipped, down into the lap, and laid there shuddering. Too much, too fast, she’d asked for everything… then she felt Kara’s hand stroking down her body, petting away the agitation that swarmed like ants through her blood vessels.

“Easy, easy,” Kara cooed to her.

She wrapped her arms around Kara’s thigh. Yes, not going anywhere now. She’d stay like this and it would all slide off of her like soap suds in the shower.

“Lena, do you, ah, do you need a doctor? You really seem upset…”

“I’ll be fine,” Lena forced her—it hurt her swollen throat. “It happens sometimes. It’ll pass. It’ll pass.” It’ll pass, it’ll pass, it’ll pass.

“When’s the last time you ate? Had something to drink?”

Lena shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Okay…” Kara moved a finger to her pulse. Waited a moment. “Geez, your heart must be going a mile a minute. Okay, let’s just sit here a while, then I’ll fix you something to eat, make you some tea—does that sound alright?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Did someone… hurt you? We can call the police, anytime you want. I’m pretty sure they’ll let me stay with you while you tell them…”

Did she need the police? She did. God, she did. She’d needed them ten years ago. Now they were about as much use as building a handrail after she’d fallen down a flight of stairs.

“No cops,” Lena said, dully, by rote. The family motto.

“This isn’t normal,” Kara said. “Nothing should make you feel this way.”

“It’s just how I feel,” Lena told her.

How to tell her? She’d half-thought Kara would hate her. Paying to abuse her, lording her wealth over a woman who had none. Only Kara hadn’t. She’d accepted her. She’d acted like Lena wasn’t a monster—believed it until even Lena was fooled.

Lena had whiplash from going back to who she really was.

“Think you can get up, maybe? Go to the kitchen with me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Kara stood. She helped Lena up; guided her to the kitchen. Started on a pot of tea and chicken soup and a tall glass of water that Lena entirely drank the moment it was handed to her. Kara took a knife and an apple and started cutting it into slices.

“You like apple slices with peanut butter?” Kara asked.

Lena nodded.

“Me too. Best snack ever.”

Lena watched her knife peanut butter out of the jar and spread it onto apple slices like she’d been granted a vision of life on some distant alien world. What sense did it make for Kara to treat her like this? She should be able to smell what Lena was. Like fire and gasoline, water and electricity, there should be a violent reaction. But all that happened when the monster and the maiden came together was softness.

Lena undid her mask and set it aside. She needed to breathe more than she needed to hide. Kara noticed, but she didn’t look. Nice. Always so nice. And what did that get her? Me.

Lena doubled over, but there was nothing to vomit up. Kara picked her up and helped her over to the sink and she finally managed to purge a clear, watery gruel. Kara turned on the faucet to wash it away. She palmed cool, clean water to Lena’s mouth to push the taste away.

She was being held from behind and the faucet was running and when Kara turned it off, Lena heard the steam gathering in the teapot. Kara would have to let her go. She’d have to, she’d have to, she’d have to. But for now, Lena shook and Kara held her tighter.

“I’d like my mask back, please.”

“Okay.” Kara went and got it. She helped Lena put it back on. “If you want, I could turn the lights out. You could eat without me looking at you.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” It almost hurt to think. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I didn’t look,” Kara told her.

“We’re out of balance, you and me. You’re so beautiful, inside and out. And I’m… I’m me. On both sides.”

“You’re beautiful,” Kara assured her.

How to tell Kara any of it, all of it. How she’d fixed the trial. What she’d helped that man get away with. And now someone was out for revenge and they deserved it the same way people who angered God deserved a lightning bolt. But she’d helped Violade weasel out of consequences once again. Whoever it was was after Judge Homer—he’d walk right into an ambush. Because of Lena. Because her whole life, her law career, the blood in her veins: it was all denying justice.