3: Wednesday
Kim had heard someone say once that there was a trick to keeping your stomach from realizing you were starving; it involved copious amounts of water and bread. She was beginning to think they might have been on to something. It hadn't helped the throbbing headache and shaking from low blood sugar, but at least she wasn't ready to tear someone's head off for looking at her wrong.
Her bladder on the other hand. That was a different story. Kim clenched her bare thighs together as she pulled into the McKenna's drive path. The angry red glow of the low fuel light taunted her the entire way.
By the time she was out of the car and up the stairs the pressure of her bladder swelled to remind her what a dumb-ass idea it had been to chug half a gallon of water. Through the slat in the door, she saw Elliot walking the hall, heading straight for her. Heat warmed her face as she wondered- had he found out the necklace was missing? Would he blame her for it?
Her hand was shaking from more than just low blood sugar by then, but through sheer force of will Kim managed to knock on the door right before Elliot got to it. He opened it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Maybe she was just imagining things, maybe she it was the gnawing hunger making her delusional.
"Morning, Kim." He didn't
sound
upset.
"Ah- morning. Can I slip past you? Just need to use the bathroom."
"Oh, sure, go ahead."
She scampered by, unable to shake the feeling that Elliot's gaze was lingering on her backside. Perhaps not for the first time, she wondered just how much she actually cared. It'd been so long since she'd felt desired that she was starting to welcome the attention, even if it meant she was doing it for all the
wrong
reasons. A year couped up in an apartment did that to a person.
After finishing her business, she tidied up the bathroom quickly- only now becoming aware of how routine the tail was becoming, how it's fuzzy presence against the backs of her thighs was a constant reminder of where she belonged. She blushed at the notion and opened the door. Elliot was standing right beside it. Kim's heart sank. Maybe he
had
thought she'd taken the necklace after all.
Before she could even open her mouth, Eliot had sprung on her; his voice was firm, solid and demanding. "Here, come with me." Like an obedient little cat, Kim followed behind as he lead her to the study at the back of the house. Boxes of books and knickknacks filled every square inch of the wood flooring under a thin layer of dust. Along the walls, several empty book cases stood a quiet vigil.
Kim frowned slightly. Until she saw the massive fireplace that dominated the left side wall- beautiful marble accent around a stone fire compartment topped with a silver inlaid mantle. "Wow," Kim whispered.
"Oh, that? Yeah. . . That took me a lot of time to get right. My father had one like it, but he would never let me near it. I figured I'd have my own one day." He glanced at her with a slightly wolfish smirk. "I tend to get what I want these days."
"I'm sure you do. . ."
"So, what I'd like is if you'd not mind breaking down these boxes and shelving the books. Make sure everything's clean and tidy, you know. If you need help moving anything, just leave a note and I'll take care of it when I get home."
During the discussion, Kim had consciously folded her hands in front of her waist; a practiced sign of 'class' and supplication and, more important to her at that moment, a way to hide her trembling. The headache made it hard to focus, bust she still managed. "Of course, mister McKenna. Ah. . . Anything else?"
In that second, he looked her over thoughtfully, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he strode towards her and placed a hand against the door beside her. "Kim, are you all right?" His whisper was hot and throaty against her face.
"I-"
"You're shaking."
"It's been a long night."
"Mmm. . ." His brown gaze swept down her body once more and suddenly she became aware of how little her dress actually covered- how much it left wholly exposed. "If you need something, let my wife know."
"Thank you, El- er, mister McKenna."
"Say it."
"Uh?"
He reached up delicately and with little more than a feather touch, brushed her whsipy bangs back from her eyes. "Say my name."
"Elliot. . .?"
That earned her a smirk. "I knew we were right about you." Before she could even dream of asking what he meant, he turned to the hall. "Going to be late. You know, you're free to have lunch here if you're hungry."
"I- Are you sure?"
"Of course. You're here all day, it wouldn't be right not to offer. Just help yourself and if you want anything, let one of us know. My wife usually gets groceries on Friday."
Thank god. Kim managed a genuine smile for the first time in a long while. "Thank you, Elliot-"
"Ah, ah, ah." He tutted. "Mister McKenna."
"Ah, yes. . . Yes, sir. My apologies." Kim found a tiny grin on her own lips, she took the frills of her dress and curtsied a little." Elliot stared at her for a second, shook his head and laughed.
"Good kitten. I'll be home later, I have some running around to do tonight."
"Sure, I'll see you later."
#
When it came down to it, Kim couldn't focus, there was no way she'd be able to find the damn necklace among the boxes and books. That didn't stop her from tearing the place apart in a vain effort to do so, though. She upended boxes, moved book cases around as best she could and even unrolled the ugly tan rug that had formerly been leaning against the wall, awaiting the day it'd see a clean floor and stocked shelves.
Yet nowhere did she find the damned necklace.
She stood in the middle of the room looking at the mess she had created and rubbing the back of her neck, muttering curses in every language- those real and imagined- that she could think of. Somehow she was sure that Elliot had directed her to the room, to show her where to look. But quite obviously that wasn't the case. "Fuck it," She whispered. She needed something to eat.
When Kim turned Sylvia cleared her throat. She was leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed under her breasts, hugging her bath robe to her body like a second skin. It did its best to accent her lithe form, too. "So. . ."
Kim frowned. "Uh, so. . ."
"What's this?"
"Ah, just a project Elliot wanted me to clean up." Kim glanced back. "Kind of a work in progress."
Her dual toned eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Dangerous ground, something even Kim could pick up on. Sylvia, like her husband, didn't take well to people who failed them in some way, it seemed. She shook her head and made a come here motion with one delicate finger. When Kim didn't immediately jump, she said it firmly. "Come here, kitten."
Kim's brow knotted as she approached. "Wh-" was as far as she got before Sylvia was on her; breaking into her space. The slimmer woman pressed her body to Kim tight, wilting the catgirl maid with the heat of her demand. She balled her hand into Kim's hair, voice a sharp hiss of intensity Kim had never heard before. "Your job is very simple, kitten. You clean up messess, you work for us, right?"
