Living with Katrina Ch. 08

He pounded her against the wall and emptied himself inside her. She used her legs to pull Jared towards herself, milking him dry. Spasmodic jerks shook her body, signalling her own orgasm searing through her. She cried and her cum gushed out around his cock and dripped down their legs.

Spent from his exertions, Jared somehow made it to the bed before they collapsed in a sweaty tangle of bodies. For a long while, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. They reeked of sex. Katrina was on a fluffy cloud of bliss, unwillingly coming back to the present.

Jared rose from the bed and went to his neatly folded clothes. He retrieved something which he held behind him. He walked closer to the unsuspecting Katrina before he resumed pontificating.

"This euphoric feeling of sex," he explained. "This is the cause of all evil."

She heard him, but wasn't listening. The words only gradually permeated her subconscious. By then it was too late. In a trice, he held her hand and curled it behind her back painfully. He had closed the small door to the vestibule so that no sounds would be heard outside.

"Good men and women lose their minds over it. The temptation makes us weak."

His voice seemed strangely separated from him. His tone was rigid. Katrina squealed in pain.

"Ten years ago, I was the one who had single-handedly elevated the position of my firm in my region to the top selling pharma company, but who became the Global Head of Sales? Donna Styles. It was a deliberate smack right across my face after all that I had done for that bunch of pricks."

Katrina was afraid now, but her mouth was muffled by the pillow. Jared moved his hand to push her head down, nearly suffocating her.

"And why did Donna get the promotion? She had been fucking the CEO all year long, of course. All those conventions and business trips were just a cover so they could shack up in every fucking hotel room all the way from here to the fucking West Coast."

A cloud of fear built within Katrina. She felt a leathery tip graze across her shoulder blades and down her spine. It deliberately went over the same path again. His manic tirade went on.

"There I was, the laughing stock of my entire region. I had no choice but to jump into the water that day. I wanted to end it all, but those blasted do-gooders had to save me," Jared continued. "Then, I realized what was the folly of the world, the source of all evil and the reason I was screwed over -- sex."

The end of that sentence coincided with a loud smack of leather striking skin. Jared had swung his belt over his own shoulders and left a mark diagonally from his left shoulder blade to his lower back. Katrina felt a shiver go down her spine even though it was Jared in pain.

"The only way I can heal is if I feel the pain for the sin I committed. The next time I am tempted by a whore, I will remember this pain."

The sentence was punctuated by four more lashes across his spine. He doubled over in pain, but his hand was steady in holding Katrina's nude form down by her neck.

"The immorality that rots our society stems from this act. People lose their minds over it. That is why we are all on the moral low ground in front of our Father, and He shall damn all of us to Hell when it is time for judgement."

The belt made a few more sickening splats with his lumbar region, before he finally stopped. He clenched his eyes shut and took heavy breaths through the fiery pain.

"This is how we heal, by suffering for our sins first. The curse of orgasm has to be met with the sting of pain to remind us of our sin."

Kat's eyes opened wide with horror as she felt the tip of the leather grazing over her skin once more. She struggled and writhed, but his grip on her neck rendered her largely immobile.

"I am one step closer to healing. It's your turn now."

Forcing her head into the pillow, he took a deep breath. He then raised his belt high over her bare back for the first time.

No one outside those four walls would hear her muffled screaming.

* *

"It's too early right now," said a surprised Samantha, answering her door.

"I know, I know," replied Jake, beaming at her. "I'm just so excited about it. The European Retrospective at the Guggenheim. That's like art royalty."

"Come on in," she said, stepping aside. "I'll fix us a drink and then get dressed."

Jake stepped into her apartment. It was functional and efficient. A small hallway led to the bare-bones kitchen and small table. Adjoining it was a her bedroom with ensuite bathroom. The yellow on the walls was slowly fading.

"How about a Cuba Libre?" she asked, surveying the inside of her fridge.

"Great."

Jake settled down on the couch in front of the old TV. Soon, two cocktails of rum and coke made their way to the coffee table in front of him. Samantha sat down beside him and looked at him with a broad grin.

"To the European Impressionists."

The glasses clinked. She leaned back and took a gulp. Her other hand rested on his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"How's Katrina doing?" she asked.

"She's went out with Jared Wexler tonight," replied Jake. "You know, the preacher who's on TV all the time."

"Really?" said Sam quizzically. "Why?"

"He bought a lot of her art as it turns out. I really don't know to be honest."

Jake sighed and took a long gulp.

"Katrina is a riddle I haven't yet figured out," he admitted resignedly. "She's an enigma."

Samantha shook her head. "You're the person who understands her the best, Jake. How can you say that?"

"It's true," he insisted, taking a long gulp. "I can't understand her."

"She loves you, Jake, and she needs you" she replied quietly. "I hope you realize how much."

* *

Jared sat on the chair with a satisfied expression on his face. His eyes remained on the quivering form of Katrina on the bed. At first, she simply lay still, her body sullenly refusing to budge. She was swimming in a sea of unimaginable pain. Every tiny movement hurt. She tried to stand, but her wounded muscles gave in and she collapsed on the floor.

He laughed, seeing her struggle to steady herself. It took super-human effort on her part to stand and lean against the wall. His eyes traced the red streaks and angry welts criss-crossing her back all the way to her waist. Her hair was tousled and her breathing ragged. She closed her eyes, memories of each lash flaring through her nervous system.

"Feel the burn?" he drawled sibilantly from his seat. "It means you're healing. The next time the devil tempts you, remember this burn and resist."

Katrina wanted to cry out, but her voice was too weak, her entire body wrung out from the abuse. He got up from his chair and walked up to her. His hands turned her around and he brought his face within inches of hers. Fear was writ large on her face, her eyes went wide and quivered. His hand cupped her chin and he spoke in an icy whisper.

"The sin of sex has to washed away by pain," he said, all the previous warmth and charm replaced by a cold lack of emotion. "Pain purifies. It distils. It gives us a sense of clarity and lucidity. It helps us distinguish between right and wrong."

His finger reached behind her to touch one of the raw edges of a wound, causing a fresh wave of pain to shoot through her.

"You are on the path to healing already, Katrina," he said, a hint of warmth returning to his voice. "You want to heal, don't you?"

She nodded listlessly, unsure as to why she was nodding.

"The world at large is still stuck in the quagmire of their filth and fornication, hence this truth is beyond them. You need to come with me and my group," he said softly. "We must continue this healing. One day, I promise you, when you are finally healed, you will thank me as you hold your love close to your heart."

Kat's head snapped up at his in utter disbelief. She was not sure whether she had heard him right. He sensed her conflict and spoke again.

"Yes, Katrina, you need to come with me. I can't stay at one place for too long. There are so many others out there like you who need me and need my help. We all need to heal."

She continued to look at him blankly.

"Great love requires great sacrifices. Come with me, make this sacrifice for the sake of your love."

She stared up at him.

"Be the woman he deserves," Jared continued. "When you are healed, you will know it and then you may come back for him."

The thoughts inside Katrina's head were too many and made too little sense. The pain still burnt strong.

"Go pray for your soul," he said. "Our Father has seen your repentance and he will forgive you. Go to the nearest church and pray."

Still in a daze, Katrina put on her dress and jacket. The pain had lessened, but she still walked unsteadily. Every step caused a wound on her back to twinge. She gritted her teeth and made it to the door.

"No need to pack," said Jared from behind her. "We have everything you need. All you need to do is come. Can you do that?"

Kat did not answer, she just left. Jared smirked, thinking how he had a new addition to his group. He knew she would not report her assault to anyone, out of shame. He had her eating out of his hand.

"Housekeeping."

"Come in," he said, lost in thought.

He casually turned his head towards the door and was stunned. He did a double take to make sure it was not a figment of his imagination. The maid had auburn hair, green eyes and a deep red lipstick. She was the spitting image of someone he used to know. Someone he detested.

"Donna Styles," he whispered under his breath.

A black cloud of wrath built up within him. All notions of careful seduction and reading her were thrown out of the window. Every bone in his body jangled with thoughts of what he wanted to do.

Oblivious, she went about her job, making the bed. She turned her head briefly to look at the distinguished guest in the room and blushed. The crimson flush on her pale cheeks went well with her hair. He returned a smile and she hurriedly returned to her work, unable to resist a naughty smile back.

Silently, he crept to the door of the suite and locked it from inside.

* *

"Just look at the queue for this event!"

Jake was amazed when he saw the serpentine line of people extending from the gallery entrance down the street. It stretched beyond the block all the way to the intersection.

"We're lucky we have invites for the private viewing," said Samantha, checking the inside of her pocket. "Very few of these guys will get a chance to see the art properly."

"Shame Katrina couldn't be here," said Jake. "She would have liked the exhibition."

Sam bit her lip, trying to mask the grimace.

"I'm so sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have brought her up while I'm on a date with you."

"It's okay," she said in a small voice. "I wish she was here too."

Jake looked down at the ground, almost feeling guilty for not being with her. As much as he hid it under his carefree demeanour, he worried about her. Her behaviour since her last gallery opening did not augur well.

"She's reckless, she's crazy and frankly, she's given you nothing but misery," said Samantha, looking at the ground. "You had every right to kick her to the curb way back, but you didn't, Jake. You were always there for her, so why can't you be there for her now that she needs you the most?"

He had no real answer to that. She paused and looked over at his face.

"You have no idea how hard she is trying to change for your sake. Change so that you will love her. Why can't you do that?"

"I'm scared, okay!" Jake blurted out suddenly. A few people in the line looked over before returning their attentions to the queue.

He raised his head, coming to terms with what he said. Sam met his gaze, but could not hold it. He leaned against the wall for support.

"I was scared too."

Jake looked over at Sam, who was leaning beside him. She lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Her eyes misted up as she let out a ring of smoke. Her eyes followed the ring, gradually disintegrating into the cold night air.

"I loved her too, you know?" she said in a dreamy voice. "I loved her deeply. But I was too scared. Scared of being disowned by my family, ostracised by my friends and cast out by society in general. The choice tore me up from inside, and I have made many rationalizations as to why I made the right choice, but it doesn't change the root cause that I was afraid."

She stopped talking and took another pull. The end of her cigarette burnt brightly.

"What are you scared of?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I'm scared that I won't live up to her expectations. That she is 'settling' for me out of a sense of moral obligation rather than actually being attracted to me."

"Jake," she said, finally looking him in the eye. "I lost my chance at loving her years ago because I was too scared. Now, not a day goes by when I can look at myself in the mirror and smile. You have no idea how much that hurts, Jake. Don't let that day come for you."

She threw her head back and blew a long stream of smoke into the night.

"You're a good guy, Jake. I hope Katrina realizes that."

He looked away, trying not to think about Katrina. They stood in silence for a long while before they heard the sound of the heavy gallery doors being swung open. The mob was restrained by the security personnel at the entrance. Those with invites showed them to the smartly dressed young woman with an invitation list at a table and a security guard on duty by her side, before going in.

"Shall we?" she said, curling her arm around his.

"I'll try calling up Katrina one last time before we go in," said Jake. He held his Blackberry to his ear, listening to a succession of rings go by. He was about to drop the call when he heard a voice on the other end.

"Katrina!" he exclaimed. "I've been trying to reach you for ages. Where are you?"

"Trinity Church."

"What are you doing there?"

There was a long, eerie silence punctuated by some badly stifled sobs, before she spoke again.

"I'm praying. I'm healing, Jake."

"What?"

"It'll all make sense to you later, I promise. You go ahead with your date. I'll be fine."

The line went dead. Jake looked at Samantha, his face having gone pale. She was initially puzzled by the change of colour, her eyes growing wide as she realized the possible reason behind it.

"It's Katrina, isn't it?" she said. "What happened now?"

"I don't know, but she sounds in a bad shape."

Jake looked at Sam who had already got out the invites in her hand. A profound mutual understanding passed in that gaze. She nodded slowly. They hurried past the queue, tossing their invites at a lucky couple.

It was not a choice for either of them. Not when Katrina was involved.

* *

The opulent interiors of Trinity Church were largely empty. Katrina had somehow struggled through the pain barrier and walked the short distance there from the Ritz. Several pedestrians stared at her awkward gait. She had to stop and lean against the wall once when the pain got too bad.

It was only when she reached the pews, that she realized that she did not know what she was praying for. She sat at the back and looked ahead blankly. Her vision was blurred with tears. She was still digesting Jared's offer, to leave with him and return a better person.

"A better person," she thought, not entirely knowing what that meant. She only knew that as she was, she could only hurt Jake.

She clasped her hands together reverently.

And then she waited.

The wait lengthened on, interrupted by a solitary phone call from Jake. Katrina had no idea what she told him in her near-catatonic haze.

People passed her, some threw a second glance at the dishevelled girl in a jacket sitting by herself at the back, doing nothing. She shut out the outside world and sat in total silence. Her mind had passed into a world of its own, where there were only two people -- her and Jake. She was a 'better person' and Jake was with her.

An unknown amount of time passed, with her still stuck in her lucid dream. The trance was interrupted by a palm on her shoulder. She looked up to see Jake and Samantha standing beside her, both their faces ashen with worry.

"Hi," she mustered weakly. They sat down on either side of her.

"What are you doing?"

"Can't you see?" Katrina responded with a silly smile. "I'm healing, just like Jared said I would."

Jake and Samantha stared at each other, at a total loss what to make of the situation. Jake curled his arm around Katrina's back, making her winceto his surprise. He immediately drew his arm back. She looked at him longingly, yearning for a sign. He touched her lower back, making her grimace in pain again. He looked up at Sam, her mortified gaze fixed on the side of Katrina's neck. A scarlet stigmata showed the beginning of a wound, one of the many which burnt through her back at the moment. The realization that she had been assaulted hit them.

"Oh my God!" Sam mouthed under her breath, clapping a palm to her lips.

"Why?" said Jake, barely above a whisper.

"So you can love me, silly," said Katrina, slightly hysterical. "I have to pray now. That's what Jared said."

He clasped his hands over hers and held it tightly.

"Let's pray together."

Samantha wrapped her arms around Kat's neck, avoiding the red mark of the wound, and snuggled up into her shoulder. Jake held onto her fist, praying quietly. Katrina had gone to extraordinary lengths to be compatible. People had always taken advantage of that. But even he had never seen her at a lower nadir.

'All because of me,' he mused.

"Will you pray for me?" she asked Jake. "Will you pray that I can be worthy of your love one day?"

"Kat.. " he started, stroking her unruly blonde hair with one hand. "You are worth the world. You are worth so much more than you think."

She continued staring blankly, but involuntary droplets formed at the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. They left distinct wet trails, marking her face with the anguish she kept trying to hide.

In that moment, Katrina Bauer was stripped of everything she used to shield herself. She was bared for all to see; so vulnerable.

Jake could not bear to look in her direction any longer. Keeping his hands on hers, he tore his gaze away to look around the magnificent church. There were of course frequent weddings at the Trinity. His eyes focused on a few stray petals from a bouquet at a recent ceremony around halfway down the aisle.

Perhaps it was the place. Perhaps it was the sorrow writ large on Katrina's face. Perhaps it was the vicious abuse she had taken in a misguided effort to heal for his sake. Perhaps it was the residual petals. Perhaps it was one of these things, perhaps it was all of these things, Jake would never know.

What he did know was the answer to his question.

Was it out of love? Yes.

The epiphany lit up the inside of his head. Suddenly, he could see with so much clarity that it took him aback. The answer hid in plain sight, yet he had taken so long to unearth it. Katrina had suffered so much for it.

In that moment, all he saw was Katrina in a beautiful white dress hugging her body and him in a tuxedo standing at the altar. It all seemed so natural and so right. It did not matter who else was there, his eyes only saw the two of them. His heart missed a beat when he saw her smile in his imagination. He realised he had fallen in love with that smile at first sight.

Snapping out of his reverie, his gaze shifted high above the stained glass windows to the fresco of Jesus being crucified on the ceiling.

"Amen," he said, finishing his silent prayer, thankful for the divine intervention.

* *