“Who’s coming?” she asked, trying not to let her mind trip down roads she couldn’t see herself going down again with someone else.
“Your Russian.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“But… how?”
“I went to see him. I’ve given up caring about how evil he may or may not be. Watching you fall apart the past six weeks… I wouldn’t wish that kind of misery on my worst enemy let alone my own sister. You went to him to save me, so I went to him to save you. Now we’re even.”
Annette just stared at her sister. There was no way she could go with Anton. Nothing had been resolved. She couldn’t live in that fucking house with Brian.
Janette interrupted her mental stubbornness. “I’m making spaghetti, the kind you like with sausage instead of beef. And you are going to go make yourself presentable. He’ll be here at eight.”
Annette glanced at the wall clock. Only an hour and a half.
“But, I don’t have TIME to get ready!” She’d let everything go. She needed to pluck, tweeze, shave, and sugar wax just about everything. She seriously needed to exfoliate and moisturize. And what the fuck was she going to do with her hair? It was like birds had nested there.
“What if I don’t want to see him?” Annette said.
“You’re both impossible. I can see why you’re miserable without each other.”
“Really? He’s miserable?” She tried not to look too happy about it. She tried not to let herself think anything could or would change, that she could do this again. Just because she couldn’t live without him didn’t mean she could live with him, either.
“When I saw him, he had this long, scruffy beard and was drunk off his ass. Now go get ready!”
He’d had a beard? The first time Annette had seen him drunk and out of control was that day at her apartment. Had he been drinking this whole time? Over her?
Janette was already unpacking the things she’d brought from the grocery store. They didn’t cook much at the apartment. A lot of times they just picked up take-out, but spaghetti was the easiest thing a human could make. Especially if they used a sauce from a jar.
The two of them had spent years taste testing and looking until they’d found a gourmet brand that tasted homemade. They’d originally used sausage instead of beef because it was cheaper, but in the end, they’d liked the bit of spicy kick it gave the dish. Then all that was left was wine, some salad, and garlic bread. A simple, romantic dinner.
Oh, God, was she going to leave Annette alone with him? But she didn’t have time to ask. Now it was one hour and twenty-five minutes until Anton’s arrival.
She went to the kitchen and poured some sugar and olive oil into a bowl.
“Do you have time to sugar scrub?” Janette asked.
“I can’t afford not to.” She held out her arm for Janette to feel.
“Yikes.”
“I know.”
Annette raced through a shower, and sugar scrub. She got rid of all extraneous hair. Not that she expected she was going home with him tonight. Or sleeping with him. That was not happening. And yet, her behavior wasn’t the behavior of a woman who didn’t plan to fuck. When you don’t want to fuck, you keep the jungle wild. That way you can remain sane enough to say “I can’t, tonight.” Waxing? Shaving? Or any other hair removal method of the lady region meant one thing and one thing only.
Once she’d washed and conditioned, her hair wasn’t really that bad. She put in a curl activator and dried with a diffuser and everything looked soft, manageable, and human again.
She opened the drawer with her makeup stash and glimpsed edible pineapple flavored whipped body cream. She’d tracked the stuff down a week into her absolute freedom from him. She didn’t know why she’d bought it—As if she could stand that memory with him gone.
She put it on. Followed by makeup—nothing too over the top. Just natural and dewy. The fresh-faced and innocent look. She pushed away the stray thought that she wanted to be so appealing to him that he’d take her no matter what her protests.
You could have gone back to him at any time, a traitorous voice in her mind whispered. But no, she could not. Nothing had changed. And if there was no longer a threat to Janette, she just couldn’t justify it anymore.
She slipped into a pair of plum-colored sling backs and a matching halter-style dress with an open back. No bra. Nothing screamed “kidnap me now” like this dress with no bra. Annette put a delicate silver chain with a small heart around her neck and a couple of tasteful bracelets.
When she stepped out of the bedroom, dinner was ready and Anton was there, sitting on the couch. He stood when she entered the room. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and dark gray tie.
She felt the insane compelling urge to kneel and crawl to him, but of course she wasn’t about to do that with Janette there. And anyway, that was over. It was broken and done. Why had she gone to all this trouble? It was too late.
“You look stunning, kiska.”
“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Janette said. “When I get back, I expect you both to be back at Anton’s house doing whatever twisted shit you two are into. Call me in the morning.”
“No!” Annette said, “You can’t leave me with him.”
“Well, I’m not going to stick around and watch you two fuck each other like animals on the sofa.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Annette said.
“With the way you two are looking at each other? Sure it isn’t. Bye.”
Her sister was out the door before she could stop her. Annette started to go after her, but Anton blocked her way.
“Sit down at the table,” he said. It was the tone he used when he expected to be obeyed. This was not the Anton she’d seen six weeks ago, all drunk and crazy. However Janette may have found him that morning, this Anton was sobered up, in control, and completely devastating in all the right ways.
The way he was now, he could probably just calmly tell her to get in the car and she’d do it. She’d have a breakdown about halfway to the house over the Brian issue, but he could probably at least get her in the car. The fact that he still had this level of power terrified the shit out of her.
Somehow, this was far more frightening than the night with the knife and his bizarre meltdown. He was here with a kind of purpose only possible when sober. Annette was beginning to wish she’d gotten drunk for tonight. She was so nervous she was sure she would die from it.
“Kiska? You really want to start this reunion with punishment?”
She thought about arguing with him about what he could and couldn’t do with her, but that was pointless and foolish. He could basically do whatever he wanted. He was bigger than her and stronger than her, and her sister had left her alone with him. And it wasn’t as though she’d suddenly gotten a whole new crop of neighbors who would hear her scream. Nothing had changed.
And everything had.
They ate quietly. Annette became convinced he wouldn’t say another word to her through the entire dinner, but finally he spoke.
“I’m taking you back to the house with me.”
“No.” She couldn’t help it. The word just came out. All she could think about was the fact that Brian was still in that house.