And the Butchery Begins
Chapter 7:
Like a Do Not Enter Sign
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The only thing more satisfying than convincing someone to do what I want, is failing to persuade them on purpose. It's like a "Do Not Enter" sign, it just begs you to walk through the door.
"Who was that you were talking to?"
Kathryn doesn't look up from the computer screen, but internally she smiles at the question, pleased the farm girl finally got up the nerve to ask it. Still she doesn't make it too easy for her.
"When?" she asks feigning distraction.
"At the party. That blond guy in the glasses." Annette's striving for nonchalant and failing miserably. "Is he your boyfriend?"
They're tucked away in one of the sitting rooms of the main house. The faint sounds of the party still in progress fill the silence that's fallen between them as Kathryn is busy searching out social media sites for proof of her latest gift wrapped scandal: the pampered rich kids of the upper east side stealing from the dumb and famous, a la, The Bling Ring. The stories been done before of course, but tying it to Manchester should raise a few eyebrows and ruffle some feathers. Not to mention isolate the headmaster's daughter from her peers all the more.
The story however can wait.
Kathryn considers how to answer the question. She has a brief fleeting urge to tell her the truth, just to see her reaction. Not that she could label her relationship with Valmont as any one thing. In the end she simply says, "That was my stepbrother Sebastian."
Her big blue eyes blink at her from across the room. "Oh."
It's impossible to miss the implication in her voice.
Kathryn's lips twist into a sardonic smirk. "I take it by your tone you've heard of him?"
Annette, in the midst of perusing the bookshelf, shifts uncomfortably in her cheap heels. "Um, I may have heard a few stories." She looks over her shoulder and adds, "I'm sure they're mostly exaggerated."
"Afraid not."
"You mean that stuff about him with the school nurse-
"All true." Kathryn closes her laptop. "He's something of a legend on the upper east side."
Annette turns the full force of her inquisitive gaze on her, leaning over the back of the couch that separates them. "You almost sound proud of him," she accuses.
Kathryn let's the statement hang there for a long moment. She really does get an inordinate amount of pleasure unnerving the poor girl. When she finally speaks, her tone is just this side of mocking, "Don't be ridiculous. What would that say about me if I approved of the things Sebastian has done?"
Annette flinches, obviously not sure if she's on the level or not. Before she can press further Kathryn continues, "Sebastian is a...complicated guy. He's quite brilliant actually, very well read. You'd probably like him a lot. Not that I recommend getting to know him."
"Why not?"
Kathryn leans back in her chair and gives her a once over that leaves the blond blushing. "Let's just say Sebastian has a type and you fit the profile. He'd eat you alive little mouse."
"I can hold my own," she replies with a cool confidence that makes Kathryn smile in approval.
"Then I stand corrected."
Annette lets out a long sigh as she crosses the room. "Look I've dealt with guys like Sebastian before, especially after that article came out. They all think their arrogant bad boy schtick is supposed to make he swoon or worse yet they see me as some angelic figure who's going to save them from themselves. I'm nobody's prize and I'm no one's savior."
"Well said Hargrove."
"No offense to your brother."
"Stepbrother actually," she corrects, though she's not sure why. No one other than her cared about the distinction anymore. "I understand your feelings and I agree with you a hundred perfect. I suppose I just have a soft spot for him. The truth is, after my parents died, Sebastian is all I have left."
At this point Kathryn has all but perfected the art of faking grief. The trembling lip, the pained, haunted stare. Shit, she could give a class in it. Annette reaches over and takes her hand, offering comfort. "I get it. When I lost my mom I was a wreck. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have my dad."
Kathryn stares at her hand, then runs her thumb over her knuckles. She's doesn't imagine the slight tremble it elicits. Hmm.
Pulling her hand back she gets to her feet and strolls over to the window, keeping her back to Annette. Kathryn stares out at the bright green rolling lawn before them. "You know as bad as my brother might appear, there are guys Manchester much worse." An ugly memory from her past seeps unwanted in her brain. She sends it away with a brief shake of her head, adding bitterly, "Much, much worse."
"Like who?"
She looks at her over her shoulder and pretends to hesitate. "Take our new student body president for example."
"Wait, Court Reynolds?" Annette asks, appropriately skeptical. "My father hand picked him for that position. I seriously doubt he's that bad a guy and even if he is, my dad would have seen through him. He's an excellent judge of character."
All the good favor she's managed to gain with her this afternoon withers and dies with that statement. She had thought her little mouse was sharper than that. How disappointing.
"You're new here. You're still learning the ropes. Manchester isn't Kansas," she hisses the word with obvious distaste. "People don't always show their true colors."
Annette's back stiffens at the insinuation. "I'm not naive. I know how the world works."
"Is that so?" Kathryn challenges. She holds her stare for a bit. She's mildly impressed and not at all surprised when the blonde doesn't wither under it. However as much as she might enjoy going toe to toe with her it won't get her anywhere. Abruptly she changes coarse. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you Annette," she sighs, "It's just if you heard some of the stories about him..."
She leans in, now in investigative journalist mode. "Like what?"
"Court...he prefers young girls, innocent girls," she explains.
Annette doesn't look convinced. "That's gross, but not really-
"He likes to hurt them," Kathryn states plainly.
She flinches, leans back, not prepared for that. "Hurt them how?"
Kathryn won't say the word. Never has. "Let's just say he doesn't like to take no for an answer."
As expected Annette is appropriately horrified. "Oh my god...that's terrible. Why hasn't anyone reported him?"
She let's out a short, bitter laugh. "Why do you think? You know who his family is don't you? Do you honesty think anyone wants to go up against the son of a congressman and the grandson of a senator? The Reynolds are powerful people. They'd destroy anyone who got in their way." Kathryn shakes her head, not needing to manufacture her disgust, "He has everyone fooled, including your father and the school board. If they had any idea what he was really like..."
"Then we have to expose him!" Annette is already rearing to go, hands fisted at her sides, ready for a fight. "He cannot keep getting away with this. I'll dig around, see what I can find-
"No!" Kathryn rushes towards, gripping her by the arms. It's a touch dramatic but the situation seems to warrant it. "Annette you can't."
"Why not? If he's half as bad as you say we can't just let him go free? What if he hurts someone else? I couldn't have that on my conscience."
Kathryn's a little surprised she's managed to turn the argument back around to being about her. Maybe little Annette was more of a narcissist then she seemed. "You can't write a story about Court. If you go after him his family would destroy you and I couldn't live with that. Please Annette, think of your dad. They could get him fired or worse. Promise me you won't pursue Court. Promise!"
She's rather impressed by her own intensity. As expected Annette buys every word of it.
"Okay, I promise Kathryn." Even as she says it however, Kathryn can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure out where to start first, what calls to make, probably already thinking up headlines. Good girl.
"Thank you Annette," she sighs into her shoulder as they embrace. Then floral scent of her perfume and the gentle press of her of her full breasts against her own makes Kathryn want to dig her teeth into her soft flesh. She resists. For now.
