I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 19: The Purpose of Nothing

I woke to find the bed empty and slowly unravelled myself from the sheets. I glanced outside to find the sky still dark, but with that lavender hue on the horizon that signified the coming dawn.

With some uneasiness, I laid back down, unsure if Alisha had simply gotten up for water or something… but I could see into the bathroom and she wasn’t there, and the pitcher still had water in it. 

I was too awake to sleep so after a few minutes I got my phone to check the time. 5:30. Alisha couldn’t’ve gotten much rest, and she still hadn't come back.

I slowly crawled to the edge of the bed and stepped down, feeling small. The chill set in almost immediately.

I got a robe from the bathroom in an attempt to keep warm and slowly crept down the steps. The house was dark except for the dining room. I approached, wondering what happened that made her stay up like this.

When I rounded the doorframe, I stopped.

It wasn't Alisha, it was Tye sitting there with his head down, asleep.

So she must've left the house and sent him to keep an eye on things here.

I backed away but bumped against the wall as I went and he jolted awake, looking dazed as his eyes settled on me. “Oh, hi,” he mumbled and yawned before sitting upright. “Alisha had to go out but she shouldn't be too late getting back.”

“Oh, okay.” That did explain why I woke up alone.

“You can go back to sleep, I'll keep an eye on the doors,” he said.

“That’s okay, I’ll make some coffee.” I went back to the kitchen and started to go about doing so. “Would you like some?” I called over.

“No, that’s okay.” He leaned his weight on his hand and yawned again. “Can’t drink that stuff,” he mumbled.

I got the machine started and waited as it dripped, the smell helping me feel awake on its own. 

“Does she have to do this a lot?” I asked.

“Nah. Only when Sergei’s in a mood, really.”

“So… he’s causing more trouble,” I followed.

“Since she banned him from the North Block, he decided he would expand his borders south, into Leo’s territory so Leo called her and tattled on him so she’s going over there to sit down with both of them.”

“They sound like children,” I commented.

He hung his head a little. “They are children. This business is filled with so much pettiness, it’s a miracle they don’t all get caught simply because they’re too engrossed in backstabbing each other.”

I got a mug from the cabinet and poured about half a cup of coffee and put the pot back down to keep brewing. I then added my bit of milk and went over to the doorframe, somewhat interested in knowing more about these business things.

“Alisha has to treat them like children,” I realized. “Is she going to take Sergei’s finger?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Probably not. She told him not to go into the North Block, not go south.”

“But he is being defiant,” I pointed out. “So she could if she so chose. And I mean it’s just a finger.”

“It’s… a mark of somebody being distrustworthy,” he said. “So she isn’t going to do it to a captain unless he really pisses her off, like starting a territory war. But Sergei knows the lines he can and can’t cross with her. He also knows Leo won’t retaliate with guns blazing so there won’t be much bloodshed. He won’t keep the territory or anything, but that’s not the point.”

“The point is to be a problem,” I filled in. “A problem she can’t simply get rid of.”

“Exactly.”

I sighed. “I wish there was something I could do for her,” I said. “I mean… I still feel pretty useless just staying here all the time.”

“She wouldn’t want you involved in that business. It’s dirty.”

“I understand that. I just… there isn’t even any housework that needs to get done, not that I would even know how… I didn’t really learn how to cook or clean or anything.”

He watched me as I took a long sip of the coffee. “To be honest,” he said slowly. “And I can’t go into detail, but she carries far more trauma than she lets on.”

“I know she isn’t open with people, but she doesn’t seem to be that bothered by things,” I said. “And how could I help her with that anyway?”

He gave me a look like I had said the sky was red rather than blue, then put two fingers to his brow much like Alisha did when she was frustrated.  “I forget you haven’t been here for very long,” he mumbled. “She has a very high stress job and for the most part keeps all of that stress to herself. On top of that, she can’t trust her– coworkers– so it’s not like she can find solace in them. And even I can’t do much since I’m as much a liability as any of her other captains. She trusts me but she can have a much deeper and more meaningful relationship with you.”

“But I’m not a therapist,” I said.

“She can’t get a therapist. Doctor-patient confidentiality doesn’t stretch that far,” he explained. “So you’re currently the only person that might get to know what’s going on in her mind.”

That didn’t mean I wanted to know. I had seen enough violence for my lifetime and didn’t want to know more but at the same time Alisha had a complicated relationship with her work. She had described it more or less like a necessary evil. Which meant she probably didn’t want anything more to do with it than I did.

“I don’t understand,” I said, “why she chose this life if it burdens her so much.”

“She didn’t. It was more or less forced onto her despite everything she did to keep it from happening.”

“I see.” She wasn’t in that different of a situation than I was, but I had managed to escape what I feared most and she had gotten sucked into it. It felt very strange imagining anybody getting Alisha to do something she didn’t want to. She never faltered in her confidence, and never blinked at doing what had to be done, even if it was unpleasant.

Tye let his head go back down on the table.

“You can take a nap if you want,” I told him. “I know Alisha worries about me feeling unsafe but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Sounds good,” he mumbled.

I let him be, not knowing what time Alisha had actually dragged him out of bed.

I brought the rest of the pot of coffee upstairs and settled on the couch up there, wary of getting the dark liquid on the pure white couch but also not feeling like sitting in the dining room with Tye. So far, Alisha had been unbothered by stains and the like.

I grabbed that baking book, the English one, and paged through, looking for my next target. Maybe I could have something tasty for Alisha when she got home. That might help her feel better. 

Everything was bread though and we still had bread so making more felt a bit superfluous.

I looked through the Japanese book, but the recipes were more complex than I was ready for and constantly going between my phone’s translator and the book was annoying, not to mention the translation could be hard to decipher at times.

I should probably get more experience before trying those out.

I was left with the world of the internet to find something. We had tea the other night to help relax before bed, so that might be something to build off of.

What would go with peppermint though? Maybe vanilla? Or maybe chocolate?

I found a recipe for vanilla shortbread and that seemed to be a good idea. They also said they could be frozen so we didn't have to eat four dozen cookies in too short a time.

The next issue was ingredients. We had butter, flour, sugar and salt; I knew that. But I wasn't sure about vanilla.

I'd ask Tye but I suspected he didn't bake much, or do so in Alisha’s house. And he was probably still asleep.

I finished up the dredges of coffee and set the empty mug aside. Vanilla extract… most people kept that in their pantry or in a cabinet.

I went down the steps, trying not to be too loud so Tye could get the best sleep he could while slumped over a table. I didn't know why he didn't use the couch in the living space. Maybe because the dining room was much more centrally located and he could hear more around him that way.

He certainly didn't sleep very deeply if bumping against the wall woke him.

He was still asleep when I snuck into the kitchen and started looking through the pantry, being careful not to knock anything over in the tight space.

Alisha did have vanilla extract and upon holding the little brown bottle up to the light, I determined she had plenty.

I was good then. I could make this recipe later when it made more sense to do so instead of six in the morning.

I slipped back out and back up the stairs.

I showered, cleaning myself thoroughly with Alisha’s soap since I still hadn't felt like I needed my own. She bought some nicer stuff. It wasn’t quite luxury but it definitely wasn’t a generic brand either. It felt nice on my skin either way and the coarseness of abused flesh had been fading since I’d started staying here.

I had a glimmer of hope I might actually look pretty eventually.

When I got out, I generally felt both more awake and more relaxed at the same time. So it would be a good time to try and puzzle out how I could help Alisha with her emotional burden.

There really wasn't much I could do. I could talk to her, for sure, and that would be better than her current situation of having nobody to talk to, though I felt like her and Tye were close enough that she did confide in him some things. They certainly had hushed conversations here and there where Tye agreed with something she said with an air of solidarity. I had observed that at least, but if there were things she couldn't even talk to him about, why did he think she could or would talk to me about them. I understood nothing of their lives outside of the routine. I didn't know what it felt like to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger. I couldn't imagine it would feel nice, unless you were very messed up in the head.

I got dressed and even briefly admired the outfit in one of the mirrors. I had never had so much freedom to wear what I wanted and do so completely carefree.

Alisha didn't have the privilege, I realized. She always dressed professionally, in suit jackets and dresses and the like. At least in nice blouses that could pass as being conservative but fashionable.

So… she couldn’t be herself. I looked around her bedroom and realized there was almost nothing there of personal importance either. The most personal of her items were her books which I knew some had been given to her by people she cared about. Otherwise why would she hang onto a book on baking bread if she never had any intention of doing so.

And the one in Japanese, that had to come from a family member, right? 

But other than that… a white couch, a white comforter, a white rug under the glass coffee table, white walls, even a white wood floor. I couldn’t figure out who she wanted to be from this. 

Maybe Tye didn’t know as much as he thought either, though. He said she didn’t want to become the mob boss for her father’s family, but how did she end up doing so if that was the case? People would kill and murder without restraint for the kind of power she commanded, and I could only assume there were murders or deaths that she’d had to at least condone, if not committed herself, to retain her power. That was a lot of effort to put into a job you didn’t want.

I laid on the bed, staring at the also-white ceiling. I didn’t understand. She didn’t let on that she was any more stressed than mild annoyance, even to me. We’d had sex so I would assume she would trust me enough to admit being overworked and tired.

Maybe she didn’t care about me as much as I thought. Maybe she just had a very particular taste for somewhat ugly women and wanted to keep me around to get her own pleasure from whenever she wanted. That seemed more like a mob-boss thing to do than lovingly nurture a wayward soul back to health.

I sighed. It didn’t matter in the end. I liked being here and until that changed, I wouldn’t assume any hidden agendas from her.