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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The First Lock - 28. Part 3, chapter 1

Three Years Later

- I -

 

It was the last Friday of August, and she was on her way to the cemetery, after telling Damien not to open the door to anybody he didn’t know, under any circumstances. He just rolled his eyes and said:

“Mom, I’ve been staying by myself since I turned seven, okay? I’ll be fine... Plus,” he added, his eyes twinkling. “Even if someone wants to get in, they will lose interest in it after a minute or two... I’ll just make them go and pig out in McDonald's or something.”

She grinned at that and ran her fingers through his hair. Right now, he looked even more like Jett – the same eyes, the same hair color, the same cheekbones and chin. The only thing he got from her was the shape of the mouth. It wasn’t as hard-lined as Jett’s -- instead, it was fuller, and she could tell that it would become a hell of a lot more sensual when he got older.

“Okay, monkey,” she said with a nod. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Behave!”

“I am not a monkey,” he answered absent-mindedly and glanced towards the living room.

“Those chocolates better be there when I come back!” she warned him immediately.

“Can I have one?” he frowned.

“Just one,” she said pointedly, and he sighed and nodded. “Lock the door,” she said before she walked outside.

She stood behind the door, listening intently. Once she heard the ‘click’ of the door lock, she nodded and went towards her car. She started the car and muted the radio. Mandy kept asking her why she would go there on the last Friday of August, and not on the actual date when Paul got shot, and she would just shrug. She didn’t know why; she simply felt like the anniversary was on the last Friday of August, and the date didn’t matter. She would always go there on his birthday as well -- now that date mattered. This one was different.

Mandy was also trying to ask her (very carefully, in her usual manner) if Katrena planned on staying single for the rest of her life.

“Kat,” she remembered Mandy saying a couple of weeks ago. “It’s been three years... I am not saying that you should let go and forget, but...” she shrugged. “I guess what I am trying to say is that it’s probably time to start feeling alive again, you know?”

She did feel alive, though. She felt alive ever since that night when Brent and she got their revenge. When Miller’s body was found, Jackie said to her in a low voice:

“You know, whoever wasted him, did it very professionally. They didn’t drain too much blood out of him either. Just enough to make him feel a hell of a lot of pain... You don’t look too surprised; is there anything you want to tell me about?”

“No,” she said with serene smile. “I wish it was me who killed him, but I had no idea where he was... None of us did.”

Jackie just hemmed at that.

“I hope hell isn’t over for him yet,” was all he said back then. He never brought up the subject of Kevin Miller again.

So yes, she felt alive ever since then. Not bubbling-with-energy-and-newfound-vigor type of ‘alive.’ It was more of ‘I-can-feel-again-and-I-don’t-want-this-pain’ thing. But she felt alive, all right. She didn’t feel like she was numb all over anymore.

She didn’t say any of this to Mandy. She just said that one of those days, she might actually let herself to notice someone again. It wasn’t true and she knew that. She let herself to fall for Jett harder than ever. That ended badly, to say the least. “He probably hates me like no other still,” she thought bitterly. Then she made a mistake of letting herself to get close to Paul. That one ended even worse. At least, Jett was alive. Well, for all she knew, that was. She also knew that if not for her, Paul would still be alive. She never blamed herself, but she knew that if not for her, he’d be alive right now.

She shook her head when she arrived to the cemetery. It took her maybe ten minutes to find his grave. She sat down on a small bench.

“Hey, McGregor,” she said. “How are you? I am okay, I suppose... Working as usual, giving Jackie shit about this and that... Brent said that he’d stop by in a couple of days... Here, that is. He is the one respecting the date, you see, unlike me...” She looked up at the sun. “For me, it will always be the last Friday of August...” She sighed and looked at the headstone again.

“Your picture is all dirty,” she frowned and got off the bench. “Danny is dating this girl, who is five years older than him,” she continued talking, while wiping his photograph with her fingers. “Mandy had a fit when she found out... No idea why though,” she shrugged. “Like five years is that big of a difference... There is nothing she can do, however. He is nineteen, so he can do whatever the hell he wants... Dawnie got accepted into the Ivy League, the one in Cornell... I know, good for her, right? Mandy was gloating for several months, you should’ve seen her... Damien... My monkey... He is scary-good at controlling that ability of his lately. Sometimes, I think that he can, in fact, read minds, even though he says he can’t. Maybe he can’t, I don’t know... It’s just...” she shrugged again, brushing her fingertips against the smooth surface of the picture.

“Sometimes he just picks things up, you know?” she continued, never noticing that the photograph was now clean. “Like a radar... Sometimes, he just knows things...” she shrugged again. “Nothing surprises me about him though... He is my wonder-kid, right?” she grinned. “Oh, McGregor... I wish I could tell you that in some lousy forty years, give or take, I’ll join you wherever the hell you are... But it’ll be much longer than that. I have no idea how much longer, but I have a very long life span... Who knows though,” she added thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll get hit by a bus or something? Shit happens, right?”

 

...She kept talking to him until she noticed that the sun completely changed its position. She sighed when she realized that.

“I gotta go, Paul,” she said and stroked the picture again. “I guess I am going to take Damien out to eat because I am hungry, and I am sure he is too... I also don’t feel like cooking...” She sighed again and got up, absent-mindedly brushing dirt off her pants. “I will see you in a couple of months, McGregor. On your birthday, that is... I know that I am going to dream about you tonight, but that’s okay. It’s better than okay, to be honest,” she smiled and slowly ran her fingers over the photograph. “In fact, I hope I will dream of you... Later, Paul,” she said and touched his picture one last time.

She walked towards the gate of the cemetery without looking back. She knew that if she, in fact, did look back, she was not going to make it back until dinner, and she didn’t want her monkey to survive on chocolates alone until then.

 

****

 

“Hey, monkey!” she called when she got inside her house. “I am home! Get your stuff because we are going out! I am not cooking anything right now, and I am starving!”

She was greeted by nothing but silence, which was interrupted by soft humming of her computer that she left on this morning.

“Monkey!” she called again. No response. “Damien!” she called louder with a slight frown. “Jesus, Damien, don’t tell me that you managed to fall asleep...!”

She marched into her living room and froze on the spot when she saw a young blonde woman sitting in one of the armchairs, her expression somewhat curios and bored at the same time.

“Hello, Katrena,” she said in a low voice, and Katrena’s eyes darted around.

“Where is Damien?” she asked slowly, and the blonde’s eyes widened.

“Wow,” she said. “You didn’t even bother with ‘Who the hell are you?’... I am impressed,” she nodded. “Motherly instincts...” she said thoughtfully. “I had no idea that someone like you would be capable of such a thing...”

“I am going to repeat myself one more time,” Katrena said through her clenched teeth. “Where is Damien?”

“Not here, obviously,” the blonde shrugged, and Katrena lunged at her without even waiting for those slim shoulders to go down. “Oh, no, you don’t...” the blonde muttered and twitched one of her fingers.

Katrena stopped immediately; it felt as if she hit some invisible, insanely-strong barrier full speed. It hurt like hell too. She back-pedaled fast, her breathing nowhere near steady. The pain lessened immediately. She regained her focus and slightly shook her head, trying to get rid of all that haziness.

“Damn,” the blonde sighed. “I tried to learn that particular spell, but this...” she gestured somewhat widely. “...was as far as it went,” she finished with a nod. “Weird, huh? I mean, it’s a spell, for crying out loud! I am good at magic; therefore, it should be a piece of cake...” She sighed once again. “Let’s just say, I was surprised... God...” She laughed softly. “You really are Locked! I didn’t believe it at first; I thought the old geezer was making it up... I’ll be damned...”

“Where is my son?” Katrena said in a low voice, her balance regained. “If you hurt him, then help you God...”

“Oh, no...” the blonde shook her head immediately. “I didn’t hurt him...” She smiled. “Not yet,” she nodded. “I might hurt him on September second though,” she said with a small smile. “It’s an anniversary, you see...” she said intimately. She studied Katrena for a minute or two, her expression curious and slightly smug. “I know that right now you are itching to finally say, ‘Who the hell are you?’ so I am going to save you an effort and introduce myself.”

She slightly shifted in the chair and crossed her legs.

“My name is Roxanne,” she said and gave Katrena a shadow of a smile. “Don’t try to remember everyone you used to know,” she said in a low voice. “My first name won’t ring a bell. My last name, however, might... DeLuca,” she smiled wider at Katrena’s expression. “Yes,” she nodded and sighed.

She studied her fingernails for a minute.

“Nine years ago,” she said slowly. “When my brother came to me, trying to talk me into joining his quest for revenge, I declined... I used to be one of those who believed into moving on, forgetting-and-forgiving, that sort of thing... Jonas was never like that. He believed in paying back...” She let out low laughter. “He called me a cowardly wench back then... He was wrong; I wasn’t afraid of going after you, it was simply something I didn’t want to do... Things changed, however,” she threw another glance at Katrena. “After he died, everything changed... I don’t do forgive-and-forget thing anymore. I don’t think I ever will... I was trying to figure out how to get to you... See, you were ridiculously powerful back then; plus, that mate of yours with his mind-fucking power...” She grimaced. “I was trying to figure out how to get my hands on you, and then you disappeared. Into thin air, it seemed,” she nodded thoughtfully. “The funny thing was -- it seemed that even your mate had no clue what happened to you...”

Katrena’s hand slid into her pocket and her fingers wrapped tightly around the miniature version of a dagger she had there. The blonde sighed.

“Please,” she said and lazily waved her hand in the air.

Katrena realized that she couldn’t move; the only thing she could do was grit her teeth.

“Yes,” the blonde nodded. “Let’s move on, shall we? There I was, looking for you everywhere I could think of; thinking that maybe one of the sides had finally got their hands on you; turning every single little rock just to make sure you weren't hiding underneath it... I couldn’t find anything! It was driving me absolutely insane... And then a little while ago, I meet this old geezer of a wizard, and the second I mention your name, he starts fidgeting... I found it quite interesting. So I had a nice little chat with him, and at first, he denied everything...” She laughed. “After a while, however, he cracked. I suppose he figured that breaking his promise to you would be a much lesser evil for him...” She laughed again. “Hell, breaking the promise probably felt like a wet dream about Claudia to him... He said that you made him Lock you,” she frowned ever so slightly. “I didn’t believe it. Not someone like you! He kept mumbling that it was true, but I just shrugged it off, thinking that it was probably his pathetic attempt to pay me back. I would go after you, thinking that you were Locked, would become overconfident, and you'd fry me on the spot... So I ignored that. He told me where you went, and that was good enough for me.”

She pressed her elbow into the arm of the chair and set her chin into the heel of her palm, staring at Katrena with a strange smile.

“Then I get here,” she continued. “And what do I find? This charming house,” she gestured around. “In this magic-free world, you live here like some normal human being... The best part, however, was when I realized that you were taking care of a kid. At first, I thought it was someone else’s kid, for obvious reasons... Then I took a closer look at him, and do you know what I realized? The kid looks like a miniature copy of your mate,” she nodded. “I have no idea how it’s possible, but I don’t care. Suddenly, everything made sense... You fleeing into nowhere, making that old fart Lock you...” she nodded again. “Perfect sense.”

She studied her fingernails for a minute.

“I am not here to make negotiations of any kind,” she said finally. “I am here simply to let you know that I have him, and I am going to hurt him on the second of September. You sure remember that was the day when you killed my brother, right?” she looked at Katrena with a serene expression in her eyes. “I am not going to hurt you,” she smiled. “I am going to hurt him, and I am going to let you live in this little perfect world of yours... We both know that you will live for a very long time... Well,” she shrugged. “Unless you decide to kill yourself, but I don’t think you will.”

She got up in one smooth move and absent-mindedly brushed her hair off her face.

“When someone you love gets hurt,” she said thoughtfully. “It hurts a hell of a lot more than your own pain... Oh, by the way... I am not taking him back; I am going to stick around here. I will let your people to find his body after I am done with him.”

She walked towards the front door.

“Oh,” she turned around right before she left. “The spell will wear off in about ten minutes. I don’t want you to try and assault me. Cheers!” She waved her hand and left the house.

©Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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8 minutes ago, frosenblum said:

Don't forget Damien's mind control powers, which Roxanne doesn't know about. How's going to keep him for several days, hurt him and kill him when he can make her do anything he wants?

Unfortunately, she's already questioned Damien's father and we have no idea what condition he was left in. Damien is gone, so she has gotten around his power somehow. He wouldn't have left freely with a stranger.

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