Chapter One
Catherina
I was walking home after another shitty day. Another shitty day in another shitty week in another shitty month in another shitty year. That was the story of my life. It was, in a word, shit. I was thirty-two years old, worked as an assistant to a barrister of maritime law, and I hated my job. The money was decent, but the doddering old fart was verbally abusive, acting like I should be qualified to catch his legal errors, railing at me when I didn’t, being snide when I did, and belittling me when I brought something to his attention when it wasn’t an error.
He’d hired me five years ago for data entry, typing, filing and keeping his schedule. I wasn’t a legal scholar and didn’t pretend to be one. When I’d first started working for the great Samuel E. Dunbar, he hadn’t been so bad, but I now I suspected his mind was going. Perhaps he knew it and was taking his fear out on me. I didn’t know why he’d changed from just a crotchety old man into the devil he was now, but I’d quit twice in the last three months. Both times he’d apologized profusely, promised to change, and offered more money while begging for me to stay. Stupidly, both times I agreed. He was better for a week, maybe two, but then he would slowly return to his old ways. I was thinking of leaving again, and this time, no amount of money would be able to entice me back.
I wanted to go back to my previous job, the job I loved and was good at. I’d worked for a dating service matching up couples based on their profiles and provided personalized coaching and relationship advice. That was my strength, and that’s what HeartMatch offered. A computer could match up people based on tick boxes, but coaching a man or woman… that required a human touch. My greatest achievement was that eight of the couples I’d coached through their relationship had gone on to be married. I’d even been invited to three of the weddings.
I loved playing cupid, but it hadn’t lasted. As the internet and social apps gained traction, less people turned to HeartMatch, the firm I’d worked for, until it had finally folded. Clients weren’t willing to pay for coaching and relied on quantity and luck over quality. Now I was just another clerk, toiling for a wage. I felt like there should be more to life than simply typing dull and dry legal terms into a Word document, but that’s what I did. At least it kept food on the table and a roof over my head.
Not only was my professional life shit, so was my personal life. Thirty-two, never married, and worse yet, no prospects. I didn’t feel like I needed a man to complete my life, but I got so very tired of coming home to an empty two-room apartment. I’d had boyfriends, but for some reason, most of them never fully clicked with me. We were always closer to friends with benefits than lovers.
It was ironic that I worked for HeartMatch but couldn’t get my love life in order. There’d been one, Malcolm, and I thought he’d hung the moon. I’d met him through HeartMatch, setting him up on several dates, but none of them seemed to work out. We’d talked at length about what he was looking for, and the more we talked, the closer we became. When his contract with HeartMatch expired, we met in person for the first time, and the spark was instantaneous for both of us. We’d had dinner, and then we’d gone back to his place where we’d spent the entire weekend in his bed.
We’d moved in together about a year after, and I’d been in bliss… until I’d caught him with his cock in the mouth of some whore at a party. We were at a New Year’s Eve party with friends and we’d both gotten completely blotted. I’d stepped outside for some air to clear my head, and I guess he’d forgotten I was there. When the clock struck midnight, he’d kissed someone else. When I’d heard the cheering, I’d hurried back in, eager for my kiss, but by the time I’d found him, he’d taken the bird into the back, and she was on her knees. Sure, he’d been drunk, but that was no excuse. I could have lived with the kiss, but not that. I’d stormed out, and he’d followed while begging forgiveness, but that had been the beginning of the end for us. I couldn’t get past his betrayal, and three months later, I’d moved out. That was twenty-two months ago. I’d dated a few times since, but most of the men were interested in only one thing or already had a family from a previous relationship. I wanted kids, but not someone else’s kids.
I hurried along the crowded streets of Glasgow. It looked like rain, and I wanted to get my shopping done before it started. There was a greengrocer between the tube entrance and my apartment where I purchased most of my produce, and if the rain would hold off for another twenty minutes, I’d be home.
I’d just stepped into the greengrocer as the first fat drops began to fall, dotting the concrete walk with darkened polka dots. I pulled the tightly rolled canvas bag out of the oversized purse and gave it a quick flip to open it. Maybe if I were quick, I could still get home before it began to rain in earnest.
I swiftly moved through the market, adding a few oranges, a head of cabbage, and six potatoes and an equal number of carrots to my bag. I was on my way to pay when I walked past some particularly delicious looking pineapple. I paused for a moment, staring at the fruit, and decided to add a pineapple to the bag. Tomorrow would be the butcher, and the day after that, the market. When I shopped, I purchased only enough for a couple of days. My apartment was so small that I didn’t have a lot of storage space. My pantry and refrigerator were only large enough to hold a few days’ worth of food at a time.
I handed over my Pound notes, returned the items to my bag, then stepped out of the shop. The clouds were low, dark and threatening, but so far the rain was holding off. Three blocks. If it would only wait long enough for me to make it the three blocks to my apartment. I’d made it a block and a half when the drops started again. I ducked my head and picked up my pace, purse over my left shoulder, my canvas bag of produce in my right hand.
I turned the corner just in time to see a man knock an old woman down, ripping her purse from her shoulder as he did. I lived in a relatively safe neighborhood, but mugger and purse snatcher roamed everywhere. The man turned and ran toward me, tucking the purse under his mottled green army jacket as he did.
I can’t explain what came over me. The smart thing to do would be to let the man rush and not get involved. He would duck into an alley somewhere close, take the money and dump the rest. With a bit of searching, the woman could probably get everything back except her cash. But today Samuel had belittled me in front of the guest in a way that had left me seething. I was looking for a target for my frustration, and this asshole would do fine.
As he rushed toward me, I grabbed the handles of my canvas shopping bag with both hands and spun in a three hundred sixty degree circle, building up momentum like I was in the hammer throw. I timed it perfectly, and the bag hit him square in face as he passed. I felt the blow all the way to my shoulders, but it was nothing compared to what he felt. The heavy potatoes, pineapple, and cabbage packed a lot of momentum, and the force of the impact stopped his head cold. Unfortunately for him, the rest of his body didn’t get the message, and as I continued my spin, the bag dragging me around, it appeared he flew backward like a cartoon character. He went down hard on the flat of his back, barking out as the impact drove the air from his lungs.
I rotated through another three hundred sixty degrees before I could get the bag stopped. As I stumbled to a halt, the man was still down with blood pouring from his shattered nose and busted lips. He was trying to get up, but he was obviously woozy from the blow to the head and the hard fall to the walk. I had a target, and all my frustration came boiling out of me. I kicked him in ribs as hard as I could.
“You stupid shite!” I screamed as I kicked him again, my brogue deepening with my rage. “Stealing an old woman’s purse!” I wound up and kicked him like I was trying to score a goal for The Celts. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” He tried to protect his ribs, rolling to his side and covering with his arms. I didn’t care, and I kicked him in the back. “Give it back!”
He began to rise and stumbled to his feet, but then fell to his hands and knees. I kicked him again, in the stomach this time. The purse fell from inside his jacket as he scrambled a short way, trying to gain some distance from the wild woman that was attacking him. Out of range, he regained his feet again and ran. He was hunched over; his right arm tucked in tight against his ribs, his face like something out of a horror movie. He caromed off the corner of the building like a billiard ball before disappearing around the corner.
I stood shaking as the adrenaline began to flush out of my system. It was all over in seconds. I picked up the woman’s purse as several people watched me in shocked amazement, their eyes wide. I hurried to the woman’s side as the other pedestrians began to recover and moved in to help. Several people were converging on the woman, but I was closest and arrived first.
I knelt beside her as she pushed herself to a sitting position and looked at her hands. She didn’t appear to be hurt other than a few scrapes.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
“Yes. Yes, quite alright. Help me up?”
I rose and held out my hand. She took it, and I helped pull her to her feet as a man used her elbow and helped her as well. I held her purse out, and she took it, smiling at me.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, looking down in obvious embarrassment. “You were brilliant, but you really shouldn’t have put yourself in danger for what little money I have in here.”
I smiled and ducked my head. Now that it was all over, I was feeling self-conscious for what I’d done. She was right. I’d gotten lucky and hurt him badly with my bag of produce, but it could have just as easily gone the other way.
“Do you live near here?” I asked, taking one of her hands. They were scraped, and blood was oozing from the abrasion. “We should get your hands cleaned up. Any place else hurt?”
The woman looked at her hands. “I was on my way to the greengrocer. I live just a few blocks from here.” She looked around as the crowd continued to thicken around us.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” the man who’d helped the woman to her feet asked.
“Posh,” the woman said. “For a few scrapes? I’ll dress my hands and knee when I get home.” She turned her attention back to me. “How can I thank you…?”
She paused, watching my eyes expectantly.
“Catherina. Catherina Hume,” I said with a smile.
“Donella Sheehy,” she said, offering her hand.
I took it and shook it gently so I wouldn’t cause her any more pain. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. I was afraid her fear and shock after being attacked was masking injuries.
Donella nodded. “Yes, I’m quite alright, thanks to you. I’m going to be a little sore in the morning, but other than that, yes, I’m quite fine. Thank you.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, quite sure. Again, thank you so very much.” She pulled me into a hug and held me for a long moment then released me. “I’ve seen you walking. Perhaps you can pop around for tea sometime?”
I smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you,” I replied, and meant it.
The crowd was beginning to disperse now that the excitement was over.
“Brilliant,” she said with a beaming smile. “Give me a few days to recover, then the next time I see you, we’ll set up a time. It’ll be nice to have a visitor, and such a pretty girl too.” Her smile grew even wider. “I bet the boys must fight over you. But listen to me prattle on. I’m sure you must be busy. Thank you again, Catherina. And don’t forget the tea.”
The shower was picking up and I was anxious to wrap this up before it began to rain any harder. “I won’t forget, Ms. Sheehy.”
“Do call me Donella,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Ms. Sheehy sounds so stiff and formal. I think you’ve earned the right to call me by my first name, don’t you?”
I giggled a bit. “Okay, Donella it is.”
Donella looked up at the sky. “I don’t want you get wet.”
She pulled me into another brief hug then released me with a smile. She stood, watching me a moment and I realized she was waiting for me to break contact first. I gave her a nod.
“Hurry, before you get wet,” I said as I began to step backward.
“You too, dear,” Donella said.
I took another a few steps as she continued to watch me. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable with the way she was looking at me. She was looking at me as if I were some savior, but I was just a woman that had lost her temper and committed a foolish act that happened to have worked out well. I nodded and smiled, then not knowing what else to do, I turned my back to her and walked quickly away. After a couple of dozen steps, I stopped and looked at me, and was relieved that Donella had gone on her way and was no longer looking at me.
I walked the rest of the way to my apartment, just making it before the shakes and tears started. I leaned my back against the door and whimpered. It took a moment, but I gathered myself. It was times like these when I missed having someone to come home to, someone to take me into his arms and hold me until the tears dried. Wiping my eyes, I peeled myself off the door and moved to my tiny kitchen. I emptied my produce out of the bag as raindrops began to splatter against the glass of my window.
It appeared my pineapple had taken the brunt of the impact. I giggled wetly to myself and wiped my eyes again. I hoped the mugger had learned his lesson. The pineapple was too expensive to waste by bashing it over someone’s head.
I spent the next thirty minutes preparing my meal. I hadn’t intended to cut up the pineapple tonight, but I wanted to cut out the damaged portion so I could salvage the rest of the fruit.
I changed out of my suit and into something warm, soft and comfortable as my potatoes cooked. For reasons I couldn’t readily explain, I was feeling better now than I had in weeks. Kicking the shit out of a hooligan that needed it had a cathartic effect. I had been feeling sorry for myself, but now that the danger was past and I had emerged unscathed, I was feeling bold and empowered.
I sat down at the table with my meal, a piece of baked chicken with buttered potatoes and carrots, and opened my laptop. As I ate, I searched Netflix until I found something to suit my mood. I finally settled on Thelma and Louise.
By the time the movie was over, I had moved to the sofa, and I was smiling. Seeing a young and exceptionally hot Brad Pitt bone an older Geena Davis, even if there wasn’t much to it, had gotten me all worked up. Why couldn’t something like that happen to me?
Grinning, I sat the laptop aside and carried my empty pineapple plate to the kitchen. I washed up the few dishes I used and put them away. Flipping out lights as I went, I retired to my bedroom. What I wouldn’t give to have Brad Pitt here right now. It was still early, and I’d let him pin me against the wall as he fucked me for as long as he wanted. I couldn’t get the images out of my mind as I cleaned my face and brushed my teeth and hair.
It was going to be another one of those nights. There wasn’t going to be any sleeping tonight unless I took care of something first. I flopped on my bed, biting my lower lip as my hand snaked into my pajama bottom to softly caress myself. It wasn’t nearly as good as having a man between my legs, but it was better than nothing, and it had been a couple of months since I’d had a man.
I continued to touch myself, my juices flowing as in my imagination I became Thelma and the sexy grifter J.D. took me against the wall. As I began to get into it, I stopped and slithered out of my pajamas and pulled my toyfriend from his home in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. He wasn’t as good as a real man either, but at least I didn’t have to worry about finding him in some strange whore. So long as I kept him charged with fresh batteries, he was always faithful.
I flipped Buzz on and touched myself, a soft moan escaping me as he sent delicious chills rocketing through me. My head tipped back as I touched myself with my toy, my right hand guiding Buzz to all the best places, my left gripping my breast as J.D. manhandled me against the wall.
I plunged Buzz inside as J.D. slid into me, his breath hot on my neck as he gripped my breast in his big hand.
“I’m going to cum, baby,” he breathed as he plunged into me hard and fast. “You feel so fucking good; you’re going to make me cum. Cum with me, Cat. Cum with me.”
I touched Buzz to my button, pressing him down as searing pleasure ricocheted along my nerves. I moaned softly as my orgasm swelled within me.
“I’m cumming!” J.D. grunted as he pounded into me.
“Ah… fuck…” I breathed as my rapture washed over me.
I held Buzz to me, amplify the pleasure as I began to curl into upon myself, my shoulders rising off the bed as I jerked softly. I grunted quietly, battling the pleasure, wringing myself dry of need as it swelled to intolerable levels. With a hard moan, I dropped Buzz to the bed, unable to stand the sensations another moment. I rolled to my side as I jerked, ravaged by pleasure, one hand between my legs, the other gripping the linens of my bed fiercely tight. After a second, an hour, an eternity of pleasure, I gasped as my climax washed out of me. I lay on my side, breathing hard as I relaxed. After a moment, I took a deep cleansing breath and smiled as I slapped around until I found Buzz and switched him off. I sighed again as I dropped him back to the bed. Buzz might not be as good as a man, but he was pretty damn good, and he was always available when I needed him.
I lay still for a moment, basking in the afterglow of my orgasm. I sighed again. I could feel sleep tugging at me. I debated flipping Buzz back on and have J.D. go another round or two, but I decided that I’d taken the edge off, and that was enough for tonight. Maybe when the weekend arrived, Buzz and I could go three or four rounds. I hadn’t been able to wear out his battery on one marathon session yet, but I was still trying.
Smiling to myself, I forced myself out of bed. I knew from experience if I allowed myself to lie still for very long, I’d go to sleep. I needed to get Buzz cleaned up and tucked back into his home in the bottom of my drawer. Taking care of him seemed like the least I could do since he did such a good job taking care of me.