Living with Katrina Ch. 02

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What are angels for?
5.9k words
4.68
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Part 2 of the 11 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 07/01/2012
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LaRascasse
LaRascasse
1,130 Followers

As always, your votes, comments and private feedback mean a lot to me.

Thanks go out to my copy editor estragon, my plot editor KatieTay and my beta readers SamanthaYvonne, GoodyGoodyTwoShoes and persorosa.

*

"J-J-Jake. Are you still there?"

"Yes! I'm on my way. The ambulance is on its way as well. Hold on."

Drivers in New York are especially reckless, but Jake was one notch higher. Holding the phone tightly to his ear, he careened through traffic at breakneck speed, violating at least a dozen traffic laws.

For a man who had lived his whole life according to rules, rules had suddenly become irrelevant. Someone he cared about was in the throes of death.

"Jake. Don't stop talking. Please don't stop."

Every syllable was punctuated by a sob.

"I'm almost there, Kat. Hold on a little bit longer."

There was an eerie silence on the other end.

"Kat? Katrina?"

No answer.

His car had barely come to a complete halt in front of the building before he was out, sprinting, running up the stairs three at a time. Adrenaline surged through his system. The other tenants stared at their usually docile neighbour charging past them.

Opening the door, Jake was taken aback by the scene before him. The living room and kitchen resembled a Bosnian war zone. Furniture was upturned, partly broken. Pictures from walls had been flung across the room. The light was cracked, dimly flickering.

Jake stepped through the wreckage. Broken glass and porcelain littered the floor. He stopped at the first small pool of blood on the floor. A smaller pool was a few feet ahead of it. Beyond that, there was a thin trail.

Heart pounding, he followed the trail. It got thicker. There was a bloody handprint against the door frame of her bedroom.

Afraid to see what was inside, he softly opened the door.

Katrina lay on the cold floor, curled in a foetal position. There was a growing pool of blood near her hands. She did not move.

"Kat?"

Jake rushed to her side. She was barely breathing. He took off his expensive tie and tied it tightly around her forearm, stanching the bleeding a little.

Rapid footfalls outside indicated EMTs' arrival. He had called 9-1-1 from the car. Two paramedics rushed into the room and put her on a gurney. One of them injected her with an artificial clotting agent. The entry of the syringe caused her eyelids to flutter.

"Jake?" she said in a pitifully weak voice, "Don't leave me alone, Jake."

He hastily ran down the stairs after the EMTs. She was put in the ambulance and he jumped in with her.

"Hold my hand, please. Don't let go."

"I won't. I promise," said Jake, holding her bloody fingers. The medic inserted an IV into her vein, desperate to keep her alive till they reached the hospital.

Half an hour later, he was pacing the corridors at the Beth Israel Medical Centre. The doctors had given her several pints of blood to steady her system. His hands were smeared with her blood and some of it went onto his new shirt as well. It took him a few minutes to realize that his phone was vibrating in his pocket.

"Hi, Jake. Emma speaking. How is she?"

"She's lost a lot of blood. The doctors say it's going to be touch and go."

"Oh! I hope she makes it."

"Me too. And I'm really sorry about our date."

"No need. It was an emergency. Your roommate's life was at stake," came the reassuring reply.

"I will make it up to you some way. I swear."

"That's okay. You take care," said Emma, dropping the call.

Jake nervously walked to and fro. His pulse was racing and his blood was cold with fear. She meant more to him than he wanted to admit.

It was an aeon later that the doctor came to the waiting room with news.

"She's stable now. We had to use several units of blood transfusion. You can go talk to her."

He entered the ward gingerly. Katrina was facing the wall with a strange disengaged look in her eye. He tentatively walked to her bedside and sat down.

"Why am I like this?"

There was the hint of a few tears under her eyes. The withdrawal from her extreme mood coupled with her near-death experience had her depressed. In intervals like this, she would analyse her whole life and reflect on all her bad decisions.

Picking Jake as a roommate was about her only good one.

He sat by her bed, putting on his best look of calm reassurance. It was poor succour for her, but he did it anyway.

"Tell me. Why am I like this?" she said, her eyes tearing up.

"You're beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Aww. Look at you- making up crap for me. You are a godsend, Jake. If only...." she said, biting her lip expectantly. The uncomfortable silence lengthened as Jake looked away, lowering his gaze, and Katrina knew that he had heard the words she had not spoken aloud.

"We've been over this," he said, in a sombre tone. "It's a bad idea."

"Why?" she said, a desperate earnestness in her tone. "You are the perfect guy for me."

"I know you mean it," he said, stroking her hairline, "and I know that you want to with all your heart. I've said this before and I'll say it again. It wouldn't work."

"Why not?" she screamed indignantly. The nurse poked her head in to see if everything was all right.

"You know what would happen. We would be together. I would be too boring for you. We would not click the way you want. You would try to be faithful to me, I know you would. But then the temptation would be too great and you would sleep with someone else who matched your wavelength. Then you would come crying to me and beg for forgiveness. I would probably forgive you, but you would not be able to forgive yourself. The guilt would make you go on one of your famous benders and once more, I would be the one picking up the pieces."

He paused to let her digest his words before continuing.

"I'm sorry, Kat, but we are who we are. You will always be who you are and I will always love you for it. Just not the way you want me to."

"Why do you have to be so right?" she said, breaking down in tears. He wiped some of them away, comforting her some more.

"C'mon now. Sit up. Your food has arrived. I'll feed it to you."

Katrina sat up gingerly while he took a spoonful of the distasteful hospital food and put it in her mouth.

"This thing tastes like pubic hair."

"You would know," he chuckled.

He gave her another spoonful. She let her hand wander on his neck, stroking it.

"You know you can have me any time you want. Any time, any place, anything. No limits," she said, knowing fully well he would not take her up on her offer.

"I'll keep that in mind," said Jake, pushing another spoonful past her lips. "I'm dating now. Remember?"

"Oh yes!" exclaimed Katrina, "How was your date?"

"Interrupted, but I would say it was going well."

"Oh God! I'm so sorry for getting in the way."

"Don't worry," Jake said, kissing her forehead.

"Have you spoken to Emma since?"

"As a matter of fact, we spoke before I came into the ward. She seemed impressed by my feat. I'm a hero now."

"She said that?" said Katrina, her eyes going wide.

"In not so many words, but I got the meaning," said Jake, a faint trace of pride on his tone.

"Look at you. All popular with the ladies," squealed Kat. "Cash in on this and get another date with her NOW!!"

"Hold on, Cupid-ess. I still have to get you up and running."

"Don't worry about me," she shot back, "I'm a big girl who can take care of herself."

"I see that," he said sarcastically, "now will you make me one promise. Just one."

"Anything."

"Will you please take your meds from now on? Otherwise you will hurt yourself again... and again," implored Jake. "And I might not get there in time next time."

She looked deep into his eyes. They held more love and support for her than she would ever know.

"I will. I promise," she said quietly. They hugged. His arms was the one place she felt serene and secure. They held each other for a few minutes.

"Okay," he said, disengaging himself from her arms, "Gotta call the carpenter. Our apartment needs some fixing. Now, you're covering my half of the rent this month, right?"

She nodded. Her art was ready.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I am sure. The gallery opening should rake in enough money."

"Great then. I'll start on getting the place fixed. You get better, okay?"

Saying this, Jake pecked her on the cheek and left, oblivious to the wetness between her legs. Katrina was desperately aroused each time she saw him, but stifled her feelings.

"I can't love him. I can only hurt him," played again and again in her mind. She was not going to hurt him.

* *

Jake Gallagher was confused.

In front of him was a canvas with an unusual spread of colours. A red swathe went across the centre, splitting it in half. The top half had a thick blue line bordering it, enclosing several awkward shapes. The bottom half was symmetrically drawn, keeping the red line as a mirror.

"Like it?"

The sudden shrill voice in his ear made him jump. He turned to his right to see a beaming Katrina. He was surrounded by a crowd at the Lincoln Centre gallery. Some of them made intelligent remarks about the art and Jake stared at it contemplatively, pretending to understand something.

"It's... hmm... very...." he struggled to find an adjective.

"You don't have a clue about modern art, do you?"

"Not even a bit."

"There is really not all that much to understand. The red line represents you, the good and the bad. The shapes show the darker and lighter sides of a self. They are opposite, yet ambiguous because the concept of good and evil is subjective."

"That all flew way over my head," said Jake. "How is the exhibition going?"

"Oh it's coming along well enough. I'm expecting some well known critics to come along and appraise it for the buyers."

Lowering her voice to a whisper she confided, "The buyers wouldn't know art if I drew it on my tits. They just want a critic to give a good review and they will buy it. More as a fashion statement than anything else."

"That works. Now if you will excuse me, I have a date to get to," said Jake, in a suave tone.

"Oh yeah. You're seeing accounts-girl again," applauded Kat. "Now remember. You have done all the hard work with your 'heroism' the last time. Play this well and you will have her panties in her mouth by the end of the night."

"Why would anyone want to put their...." he started, before realizing it was something he really was better off not knowing about. "Never mind."

"Best of luck, handsome" said Kat, planting a quick peck on his lips.

With Jake gone, she turned her attention back on the spread of artwork before her. The opening needed to go well for her to pay the whole rent like she promised.

"Just one good review," she muttered under her breath, "One good review and I can sell the lot."

Sadly, that one good review never came.

* *

"My, my... aren't we well dressed tonight?" said Emma, opening the door. "I'll be right out."

Jake held her hand and escorted her to his car. She was wearing a conservative dress and a plaid skirt.

"Who says chivalry is dead?" she joked.

They drove to a bistro and sat down at a small side table. She looked gorgeous and her dazzling smile captivated him.

"What are you doing?" inquired Jake, feeling a sudden touch on his thigh.

"Nothing you won't want me to do," she said. "Nothing I haven't been thinking of doing for ages now."

The palm stroked his thigh under the table. His mind went into a tizzy of shock as her roving fingers came closer and closer to his clothed member.

"Emma, I really don't think this is the time or place to be doing that."

"Quit whining," she snapped. "Enjoy this. We both need a break from the crappy number crunching and I can't think of a better way than feeling you up."

"Yes. But in public? Under a table?"

"I know, right?" she said, with a devious gleam in her eyes, "Doesn't the thrill of the situation get you aroused?"

"No," Jake said flatly, "It makes me afraid of getting caught."

She chose to ignore him and started rubbing his member through his trousers. He gasped as he felt it growing in size, straining against the tight fabric of his underwear.

"You are definitely well endowed, my friend," she whispered to him. "And so thick."

Her fingers circled around his shaft and rubbed it back and forth through the jeans. Wanting better access, she leaned forward and undid his zipper. All that separated her from his organ was a flimsy undergarment.

"Much better," she exclaimed, rubbing him with a greater intensity now. "Admit it. You like this."

Jake barely nodded. His senses were in overdrive with the unfamiliar sensations of pleasure racing up and down his nervous system. His skin was tingling and he had to stifle a small gasp of pleasure.

A red-haired waitress came over.

"May I say the two of you look beautiful today?" she said with a huge smile.

"Why thank you," replied Emma, fiddling with his engorged prick under the table. "Why don't you order for us?"

Jake was shocked senseless. He could barely look straight, let alone speak. The pretty waitress turned towards him expectantly. He quickly lifted the menu to cover his uncomfortable expression.

"We'll have the umm...." he tried to concentrate on the menu and not on her slender fingers which relentlessly molested his covered penis.

The waitress waited patiently, mildly amused by his struggle.

"We'll have the ... quiche and the... coq au vin and ...." he struggled as Emma brought him closer and closer to cumming.

"Bouillabaisse" he somehow blurted out, finishing his order as he felt a wetness on the inside of his underwear against the head of his cock.

The waitress left, puzzled at this strange man. Emma drew her hand from under the table. Raising a fingertip to her mouth, she sensually licked it.

"How was it?" she asked, grinning wickedly.

"It was... different."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Let's start eating now."

The starters disappeared as soon as they arrived. They descended on them like ravenous wolves.

"So... about your roommate?

"She's fine now. In fact her exhibition is going on. I don't understand the art, but I guess there are enough rich art lovers here to buy her work. All I saw were colours and shapes."

"That's modern art for you. It makes sense only to eccentric nuts," she declared.

"Rich eccentric nuts," he corrected.

The sumptuous bouillabaisse arrived with a stick of baguette. They broke off parts of it and dipped it in the broth.

"Back to work from tomorrow," Jake grumbled. "I swear, these weekends never last."

"Cheer up! We are on the verge of getting a big contract from Carmichael Industries to do their books. It's a lot of work, but they pay twice as much as our usual clientèle."

"Cheers to that," said Jake, raising a flute of champagne.

"Now, I know the third date is the norm for the first time, but how about we pre-pone sex to... now?" said Emma, causing Jake to spill the soup on his shirt in shock.

Disbelievingly, he looked up at her.

"You want to what?" he blurted out.

"Oh Jake!" she sighed, "Did you not have the birds and the bees talk?"

"I did, but I never thought I would need it on a second date."

Emma leaned over the table and lowered her voice to a whisper. "This may only be the second date for you, but I have wanted you in the sack for years now."

"You have?" said Jake, still believing it was a surreal dream.

"Are you kidding me?" she said. "You are hot property in the office. Everybody from the copy girl to the secretary wants to date you. If only you had been a bit more receptive all these years."

"Receptive?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Did the new junior accountant Bonnie come to your office yesterday?" she asked, biting into her bread.

"As a matter of fact, yes. She needed the break-down of those last quarterly numbers from our audit."

"Yes. But did you see what she was wearing?" asked Emma, with a half-smile playing on her lips.

"Not really. Why?"

"Did she lean over the table much?" asked Emma, her tone slowly creeping up.

"Come to think of it, yes. What are you implying?"

"Oh Jake!" said Emma wistfully, patting his shoulder. "Bonnie was hoping you would notice her new black lace bra. She put a lot of effort into making it just visible enough when she leans over."

"Really?" he said, gaping.

"I'm serious," she said, finishing her food. "Not to be a killjoy, but I would dearly love to have you inside me. So can we wrap up things here fast?"

"Jeez, slow down..."

"Bill please," yelled Emma. "Sorry, but I have waited long enough."

* *

Katrina counted out her earnings from the gallery. It wasn't nearly as much as she needed to pay the entire rent as promised. In fact, it was barely enough to pay her half of it.

"There has to be some mistake. This can't be it," she said to herself, and started recounting the cash.

But it was. It was not nearly enough.

She collapsed into the chair, holding her head in her hands. The buyers had paid less than she had hoped. Her eyes surveyed the refurnished living room. It had cost Jake a fair amount putting it back together after her rage-fuelled fit. He could not pay the other half even if he wanted to.

"He shouldn't have to," she said under her breath, "I promised him."

Her phone's buzzing interrupted her. JAKE CALLING.

"Hey Jake. How's your date going?"

"Well. I called to tell you that you don't have to wait up for me. I'll be spending the night at Emma's."

"Omigod my roommate is about to have sex," she squealed like an excited teen.

"Yes yes. Now can we please act like adults? How did your exhibition go?"

"Not bad. I've made enough," she lied.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Bye and I want explicit details of your romp later," she said, shutting the phone.

It was all too much for her as she collapsed in a flood of tears. Her body was wracked by sob after sob as tears cascaded down her cheeks onto the cold floor. She had let him down.

"I promised I would not let him down. I promised."

A light switched on in her head. There was a way for her to get some more money on short notice. There was one person out there in New York who was willing to pay her a large sum for one particular painting.

"No. There has to be some other way," her conscience screamed. That particular painting meant a lot more than the mere smattering of paint on a canvas. If she painted that, it would mean victory for a sadistic sociopath.

She closed her eyes, picturing him. His wicked eyes, lips curled in a callous grin and all the instruments of torture in his private chamber.

Katrina was not averse to BDSM, having played both domme and sub under various settings, but this person was a monster. The only objective on his mind was to hurt her. Physically or otherwise. The "painting" was part of an elaborate mind-game, signalling the end of her soul as she knew it.

"No. There has to be another way."

She scoured her savings and her private accounts, but there was nothing. A lot had been riding on this opening and it had not delivered as well as she had wanted.

The only alternative left was...her mind refused to even think about it.

Defying every fibre of her being, she picked up her phone. The number was not stored there any longer. Her unwilling hands reached into her private closet and found her old address book. It contained every number she had ever called. Every memory she wanted to remember, every dark secret she desired to forget.

There it was. The number of one of her first patrons. He seemed charismatic and his intelligence had snared her attention. He had come into a huge inheritance and had hired her to paint some landscapes from his mansion.

LaRascasse
LaRascasse
1,130 Followers
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