Read Online Serving Mr. Stevens, Part Four: The Price of Pleasure -- An Erotic Romance (Part 4 of 5) by Nathan Stratton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nathan Stratton
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rushed around the car to open the passenger door, but he didn’t get there in time – Katarina had already opened it and climbed into the back, saying nothing. Carl looked at me, asking a silent question.
“We’re okay,” I said quietly. “Just drive.”
Carl nodded and stepped back from the car, waiting for me to enter. He closed the door behind me, and Katarina and I looked at each other as he came around to the driver’s seat. As soon as he sat down, we almost immediately lurched into motion.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked from the front seat, somehow keeping a level tone. He seemed unfazed and in-control. I wondered what other dramatic scenes he’d witnessed over the years as the Stevens family driver.
“Let’s go back to my place,” I blurted out. It was an impulsive decision, but it made sense. The Stevens building seemed too risky, for some reason, and I longed for the familiar comfort of home. I pulled out my phone, tapping quickly through the address book to find the number I was looking for.
My fingers shaking, I whipped off a frantic text to Mr. Stevens: Where are you? What happened? I took Katarina home for the night. Please get in touch with us. Tell me what you want me to do.
My phone offered up a shrill, hollow ‘beep’, indicating my text had been sent. It was such a small, pathetic noise, not comforting at all. Worry gnawed at my stomach. How could things change so much, so fast? There was nothing left to do for the time being. Now, all I could do was wait.
“What a horrible end to a perfectly wonderful evening,” I mused to myself in the backseat.
Chapter 2:
A Thousand Questions
On the ride back to my apartment, Katarina sat very still on the far side of the car. She didn’t talk, didn’t look at me – she didn’t even seem to be thinking, just staring blankly ahead. I caught a reflection of her face every so often, illuminated by streetlights in the car window. Her eyes were distant and dull, staring off into space. From somewhere in the recesses of my memory, I recalled that soldiers and burn victims could fall into a state of shock after a trauma, and that it was imperative to snap them out of it if you could. I wondered what in the world I could do to break her out of this. I had never been confronted with something like this before. Three days ago, I’d been a barista. I nearly let out a bitter laugh at the thought. Life had taken many twists and turns since I met Mr. Stevens, but this was by far the sharpest turn yet.
Carl didn’t talk much during the drive, seeming to sense that we both wanted silence. At one point, stopped at a red light, he looked back at me and seemed poised to ask a question. “…Kearns is dead,” I said sharply, cutting him off before he could ask. “And we don’t know where Mr. Stevens is.” He blinked a few times, but said nothing. We looked at each other for a long moment. He turned his eyes back to the road ahead, not asking me to elaborate.
When we turned onto my street, I could feel the weight lift somewhat from my shoulders. Katarina, too, seemed to be doing a bit better. We stepped out of the car together, Carl and I helping her step to the curb gingerly.
“Can you stay here?” I asked him. “We might need the car later… if he calls, or…” I trailed off, realizing all over again how little we knew about what to do next. But Carl, bless him, put up his hands as if I didn’t even need to ask.
“Of course, Miss,” he replied. “I’ll be here with the car if you need me.”
Once upstairs, Katarina seemed to come around. She went to the bathroom to clean up a bit, and I started a pot of coffee. It seemed the only thing I could do that made any sense. I kept the phone on the counter, with the ringer on high, so that I could hear it in case Mr. Stevens sent a text back to me. Of course he’ll text you back, I scolded, trying to convince myself. The fact that
“We’re okay,” I said quietly. “Just drive.”
Carl nodded and stepped back from the car, waiting for me to enter. He closed the door behind me, and Katarina and I looked at each other as he came around to the driver’s seat. As soon as he sat down, we almost immediately lurched into motion.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked from the front seat, somehow keeping a level tone. He seemed unfazed and in-control. I wondered what other dramatic scenes he’d witnessed over the years as the Stevens family driver.
“Let’s go back to my place,” I blurted out. It was an impulsive decision, but it made sense. The Stevens building seemed too risky, for some reason, and I longed for the familiar comfort of home. I pulled out my phone, tapping quickly through the address book to find the number I was looking for.
My fingers shaking, I whipped off a frantic text to Mr. Stevens: Where are you? What happened? I took Katarina home for the night. Please get in touch with us. Tell me what you want me to do.
My phone offered up a shrill, hollow ‘beep’, indicating my text had been sent. It was such a small, pathetic noise, not comforting at all. Worry gnawed at my stomach. How could things change so much, so fast? There was nothing left to do for the time being. Now, all I could do was wait.
“What a horrible end to a perfectly wonderful evening,” I mused to myself in the backseat.
Chapter 2:
A Thousand Questions
On the ride back to my apartment, Katarina sat very still on the far side of the car. She didn’t talk, didn’t look at me – she didn’t even seem to be thinking, just staring blankly ahead. I caught a reflection of her face every so often, illuminated by streetlights in the car window. Her eyes were distant and dull, staring off into space. From somewhere in the recesses of my memory, I recalled that soldiers and burn victims could fall into a state of shock after a trauma, and that it was imperative to snap them out of it if you could. I wondered what in the world I could do to break her out of this. I had never been confronted with something like this before. Three days ago, I’d been a barista. I nearly let out a bitter laugh at the thought. Life had taken many twists and turns since I met Mr. Stevens, but this was by far the sharpest turn yet.
Carl didn’t talk much during the drive, seeming to sense that we both wanted silence. At one point, stopped at a red light, he looked back at me and seemed poised to ask a question. “…Kearns is dead,” I said sharply, cutting him off before he could ask. “And we don’t know where Mr. Stevens is.” He blinked a few times, but said nothing. We looked at each other for a long moment. He turned his eyes back to the road ahead, not asking me to elaborate.
When we turned onto my street, I could feel the weight lift somewhat from my shoulders. Katarina, too, seemed to be doing a bit better. We stepped out of the car together, Carl and I helping her step to the curb gingerly.
“Can you stay here?” I asked him. “We might need the car later… if he calls, or…” I trailed off, realizing all over again how little we knew about what to do next. But Carl, bless him, put up his hands as if I didn’t even need to ask.
“Of course, Miss,” he replied. “I’ll be here with the car if you need me.”
Once upstairs, Katarina seemed to come around. She went to the bathroom to clean up a bit, and I started a pot of coffee. It seemed the only thing I could do that made any sense. I kept the phone on the counter, with the ringer on high, so that I could hear it in case Mr. Stevens sent a text back to me. Of course he’ll text you back, I scolded, trying to convince myself. The fact that
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