Page 29 of Not Your Shoe Size

Mr. Peterson touched her side with a hand as hot as pot roast. “I’ll pay.”

Kate stepped aside, rummaging in her bag. “It’s okay. Managers at my work get a food allowance. I never use mine.”

There was a short pause. “You’re a manager?”

Oh, fuck you, fuck you forever, Mr. fucking Peterson.

But she didn’t say it, she didn’t want to risk looking at him. Because he wasn’t real. He was never real. He was a dream who should have stayed in the late aughts. Should never have come to her in the first place.

****

In the years to come, Kate couldn’t fathom how she got through the next few hours at Rapunzel’s house. She had few memories of what she’d said or done or eaten, but she’d been there, helping Deidre carry boxes, chatting with Casey and Tambara.

Mr. Peterson had been relaxed, she remembered that. He’d been relaxed and Rapunzel barely held it together. She was the only one tapped into the electromagnetic tension of the situation. She kept shooting Kate panicky looks, clearly dying to discuss the situation but equally terrified she’d make everything worse.

Kate left before her friend could corner her, slipping out the back door without saying goodbye to anyone. She walked through the overflowing vegetable garden and onto the street. The second she was alone, she started crying great fat, wet tears. She wandered the streets of Brunswick for a while, but the tears didn’t stop. She felt as though a powerful internal pillar had been kicked and now everything else was crooked.

She wanted to call Ty, but if he was the slightest bit jealous of Mr. Peterson, the slightest bit ‘I told you so’, she’d shatter like porcelain. She wanted to call Rapunzel, but if she was the slightest bit defensive on Dede’s behalf, she’d crack like glass. For the first time in ages, Kate debated calling Maria. Her former mentor would go apeshit about Mr. Peterson in a way Kate knew would make her feel better. But Maria’s support was a poisoned chalice. You drank and you were under her thumb again.

I’m alone.I’m so, so alone.

An hour later, she was walking Sydney Road when Ty called.

“Hey,” he said, without waiting for her to greet him. “We’re not going to the awards tonight. We’re doing something else.”

Any other time, this would have surprised her. Or at least confused her. But right then, all Kate felt was dull relief that she wouldn’t have to get dressed up and pretend she felt normal. “What are we doing instead?”

“Playing.” Ty didn’t sound playful. His voice was cold as steel.

Kate’s cunt contracted as though he’d drawn on it with a string. It was such a welcome change from numbness that she smiled. “Will it hurt?”

“What do you think?”

Good. Bring the pain, the hurt. Ground me in sensation. Break me on purpose, Daddy, so I can build myself again. Without all these stupid mistakes.

“We’re not doing it at our place,” Ty said in the same icy tone. “I’ve got a new place. I’ll text you the address. Meet me at seven in a pretty dress or I’ll make you wish you’d stayed out with your friends all night.”

Then he hung up.

Kate stared at her phone. For a second pain threatened to hurtle her back into tears, but she bit down on it. Ty didn’t mean to be mean; he was pretending, and it would be her salvation. Her hurt would soon be transmuted into the best feeling in the world. Everything else could wait. Forever, if she was lucky.

Chapter 7

Ty sat back in his armchair, his tumbler of Glenlivet going hot in his hand. The temptation to check his phone was overwhelming, but he couldn’t give in. It was past seven. Kate couldn’t be far away, and he needed to be calm when she got here. Calm and collected and cold. She’d sounded strange on the phone. Not guilty or defensive, just distracted. He wanted to ask about the guy she’d had coffee with, but he wasn’t going to do it until they fucked. He’d been amazed by Kate’s ability to lie before, cloaking her feelings in sweetness. They knew each other so well, but that didn’t mean they knew everything. No, he’d wait until after they had sex to unpack what the fuck had happened this afternoon.

He ran his thumb over his belt buckle, feeling the cold metal ridges. It was Kate’s favourite, the heaviest and thickest belt he had. He was going to hurt her tonight. Spank her, pull her hair, own her in a way only he could. He’d make Kate cry and come and beg, and when she was done, she’d collapse into his arms and the tension grinding in his heart and jaw would be gone. He’d have released them both. All she had to do was get here. Ty took a swallow of whiskey, feeling it burn down his throat. He was drinking too much lately, but now wasn’t the time to consider it. Where was Middleton?

As though in answer, he heard a timid knock. Ty’s heart pulsed. “Come in.”

The front door swung forward and there was his girl. Kate McGrath in a short white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. A lump rose in Ty’s throat. She looked so small, so defenceless, for a moment he forgot why they were there. He stood, wanting nothing but to pull her into his arms. He caught himself, folding his forearms across his chest. “You’re late.”

She mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

“What was that?”

She lifted her head a little. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Are you now? And how are you going to prove that?”

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