The Twelve Vitali Ch. 01

Lights flashed as a car revved and sped past her, making her jump. She fumbled with her keys, dropping them and had to stoop to pick them up. The car revved again as it came back down the street. She had almost gotten the key in the lock when the door before her opened and Mick stood there with a frown.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking up and down the street for signs of whoever revved the engine.

"Sorry I woke you, Mick. I had this weird feeling I was being followed, so I came here instead of going home," she said as he ushered into the house he shared with David, and at times like this her.

"That's it. We pick up the last of your stuff tomorrow. You know that maniac isn't going to stop," Mick said in an angry tone, making her look at him. "You're practically living here anyway. Why are you bothering to pay the rent on that old place?"

"It's mine though. It was the first little piece of independence I ever managed for David and me," she said, as if that explained everything.

"It was also his until he left the last time. It's time to move on, Cat. He's dangerous, and you know it!" Mick said forcefully.

"Go back to bed. We can talk in the morning," Cat said softly, aware that her brother still slept. It would take a bomb to go off to wake him, she knew, but, still, she didn't need this conversation right now.

*****

Cat kept herself busy, and by the end of the four weeks had amassed a small collection for Vanessa to choose from for the particular offices she'd picked out for this colour scheme. She stood by nervously as Vanessa and Maryanne came to view her work. She tried not to be disheartened by Maryanne's blunt and sometimes harsh critiques of her work. She knew she meant no offence, she was the expert in these things, and Cat knew she needed a harder skin if she was ever going to survive in the art world.

"These are good," Maryanne finally turned to address Cat directly. "Good, but not great like the other one. I think it has to do with the dreamlike quality rather than the raw emotion of the other one. Do you have a studio at home?"

"Yes, but..." Cat began to decline any hint of their coming to view the work she had stored there, mostly raw and unfinished.

"No but's. Honestly, you could live in a dumpster, for all I care, I just want to see the real you on the canvas, not painting to meet someone else's needs," Maryanne said. "I bet no one dictated what you could paint when you did the 'Short'."

"Well, no, but it was for the club, so it sort of followed that it would be relatable in some way," Cat shrugged.

"Exactly," Maryanne said. As if that was what she had said in a nutshell. "Why don't you take an early mark and go home and tidy up your studio. We'll pop over to your house tonight, just for a few minutes," she hastened to reassure her. "I'd love to take a look at the paintings you've done, just for the fun of it. I'm afraid it has to be tonight, I'm flying to Queensland to see my sister tomorrow."

"I guess," Cat gave in, feeling pressured by the onslaught of Maryanne's enthusiasm.

*****

As she pulled up outside the house she now shared with David and Mick. Cat could see the broken garage door haphazardly pulled back into place and frowned. 'Oh no.' she thought, and raced toward the house. She couldn't get the garage door to budge, so she let herself in, thinking they had been robbed earlier in the day and unconcerned with surprising an intruder. She hurried toward the internal door to the garage and found it open. The depth of the destruction there was enormous, and she pulled out her phone to call David.

She heard a noise behind her, but never got the chance to turn around as a hand clamped firmly over her mouth and an arm came around her chest, pulling her back into the body of the destructive thief.

Shocked, she froze on the spot, dropping her phone as it beeped again. 'Please help me, David.' She thought, struggling to strain her neck to look at the phone. But it was hopeless, her brother couldn't hear her now, he'd probably already hung up. She nodded her agreement to be quiet and felt his hand on her mouth loosen slightly. The smell of old sweaty leather assaulting her nose from the gloves he wore.

"Scream and I will break you!" a familiar voice hissed in her ear. Taking his hand from her mouth, he pinned her arms at her sides and quickly cuffed them using a dodgy pair of replica police handcuffs.

"Why are you here, Ned? What do you want? I don't have anything of yours anymore," she said, her panic rising in her voice.

He pushed her against the wall and turned her to face him. He spoke in a low, angry tone. "You think you can just leave me? Move out of our apartment without a word and I wouldn't notice?"

"You haven't lived there months, Ned, it was over months before that. It's not like we just broke up and I moved," she was surprised by what he was saying. She didn't think he'd care what she did anymore.

"You are mine!" he growled. "You stay where I put you, not go running around with the high-class snobs pretending that you're better than me now. You're nothing but a dirty little street kid that I saved from starvation when your junkie mother overdosed and left you to fend for yourself. I looked after you and your brother! You owe me, and you're gonna start paying me back as of now!" he threatened her, taking his arm from where he had pinned her and grabbing a fist full of her hair.

"Ned, stop, no! It's over, I'm done being indebted to you! Go get one of your fucking whores to play house with you, I'm not going back!" Cat said, rage swelling up inside her to equal her fear.

"You're my fucking whore. You've always been my fucking nasty whore." He grinned and reefed her head back so she had to look at him. "Say it! Tell me that you've always been mine."

"I was always yours," she said, terrified by the look of absolute irrationality in his eyes. She forced herself to relax to buy some time, there was still the chance that her brother had heard what was happening on the phone she had dropped. There was nothing else she could do if she wanted to survive this. He had her against the wall, and, yes, she would say whatever he needed to survive this. She'd survived worse in her lifetime. She went limp as she went into that protective space in her brain that allowed her to hear and see everything but feel nothing.

"Oh no you don't, you stupid bitch!" Ned raged, seeing her eyes become unfocused and glossy. Gripping her tightly by the hair, he dragged her bodily up the hallway and opened the door to the bedroom he had just trashed, throwing her inside. Cat fell as he threw her forward and barely took in the damage around her. She didn't care, she just had to survive this. She had to survive for David; he'd have no one if she just gave up now.

"Get up!" he stood over her, removing his belt with a slow slithering whoosh that she knew so well.

Getting to her knees, she looked around and focused on familiar objects: her bed, her morning cup of coffee, now cold, and, instead of neatly placed on the dresser; it lay shattered on the floor. Her eyes regained focus and the familiar looked different, more intense, less welcoming. She was home, but she was not home. She was a prisoner, on her knees, scared of her surroundings and wanting to run out the door through which she had just been thrown.

His voice broke through her fog. "Don't you fucking dare escape into the black hole of a brain of yours, you dumb cunt! I know you and all your tricks; and you are going to learn here and now that you can't leave me, not now, not ever!" The belt sailed through the air and she cringed, making him laugh and pull the belt before it struck home.

"Good, I see I have your attention now!" he sneered. She was irresistible to him. He had to get her back, and she had refused any of his attempts to talk her around to his way of thinking. She had left him no choice. He looked at her on the floor, her eyes darting this way and that, her shoulders tense, her skirt bunched up revealing her knickers and her round, sexy ass.

"Look at you!" He said, smirking to himself. He cast a menacing figure as he stood over her, unbuttoning his jeans. He didn't take his cock out though, he just made more room as his erection grew at the sight of her and he continued slapping the belt into the palm of his hand and looking at her, intensely. "All of it's gone; everything you owned except that hunk of metal you drive around in. If you don't get your ass home by tomorrow I'm gonna come back and do the same to dear darling David's stuff!" he threatened.

It was the first time he had threatened David in any way, and she panicked. Her head came up sharply and she looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, I thought that would get your attention. If you spent as much time worrying about me as you did about that asshole brother of yours, I wouldn't have had to do this," the belt that had been caressing his palm suddenly arced through the air and crashed down over her back and ass, making her fall forward again.

"Please, Ned, stop! It's okay. I'll come home, where ever you like. Just leave David alone, okay?" she began to bargain her life away again. So much for her dreams. She had one shot, and she'd blown it. There was no use fighting her fate anymore, she may as well just accept it and be his fucking whore until he tired of her for good and put her out of her misery. She'd be his anything if he just left David alone to make something better for his life. "Whatever you like, I'm yours, I was always yours," she said softly, getting to her knees again.

"Shut up, you worthless piece of shit! Shut the fuck up!" He spat at her and kicked her further to the ground so she was sprawled out on the floor, ass showing, arms outstretched. "You'd say anything to save your brother! You're probably fucking him, aren't you! Bit of incest to make a happy family at last?"

She felt the leather belt come down and slap across her thighs and then again on her ass. The stinging sensation brought her into the moment, took away her thoughts of bargaining a way out of this. All she could do was be aware of where she was: at home, on the floor, spit dripping off her face and her ass exposed to this violent attack from someone who professed to love her and not be able to live without her on any other day. But not today, she reminded herself, as the belt struck her again.

He'd broken every stick of furniture in the room, and he swore loudly as he realised he would have to move her again before getting any relief. He didn't relish the idea of pulling splinters out of his ass just to fuck her right then. Taking her by a fist full of hair, he dragged her back to the untouched and clean living room. He had been careful to only destroy her stuff. No use getting the two wimps who lived with her mad at him for nothing.

She relaxed and felt a perverse calm across her body as he began to drag her by the hair over to the sofa. He placed his arms under hers and hoisted her up, her back to him, putting a knee just above her ass and arching her into him. He bit her neck, not enough to cause bleeding, but hard, leaving marks for her to remember him by. His cock was throbbing, and he loosened his jeans further, taking her hand and sliding it down over his cock.

"Welcome back, my whore!" he growled in her ear. "You just keep doing everything I ask and little brother stays safe, understand?" she nodded, and he growled, "Say it, you dumb cunt! You know how this game is played."

She couldn't say a word. How could she? His cock felt the same as always, thick, veiny, and hard for her. He was the only guy she had ever slept with; she had nothing to compare it to. But he was not supposed to be here, she was not supposed to want this. Did she want this? She was ashamed; felt betrayed by her own body and felt like the whore he called her. The whore she would inevitably be for him to keep her brother safe.

"Yes, I understand," she said contritely, as if she knew she was defeated. She felt the leather glove grip tightly around her neck and force her head forwards and down to the sofa cushion leaving her ass raised high. She didn't bother trying to resist as he pushed her dress up over her thighs and ass, but stiffened as if she wanted to, and that earned her another belt strike across the back.

"Do what the fuck you are told!" he yelled at her, squeezing her throat.

He forced his way inside her, pulling the foreskin of his cock back aggressively as he impatiently plunged deep into her pussy. His balls banged against her, then he let out a grunt and slapped her ass hard. "You are nothing but a fucking whore, my fucking whore! Look at you, bent over your own sofa with my cock inside you! Mine, you are mine, you nasty little bitch! Tell me you want it!"

His growl was mixed with his heavy breathing, he was getting excited, aroused by his power over her. He started pounding into her hard, slapping his balls against her cunt with every agitated thrust. Her cunt was getting sore quickly, pounded, battered, and not overly wet. She relaxed her muscles for him, giving him more space to get deep into her pussy. She just prayed for it to be over quickly.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you like this!" he demanded.

"I, I, er, I..." Her voice trailed off as she braced herself for the increasing violence in his pounding. Her pussy was on fire, burning, her lips stretched out and then forced almost inside her as his thick cock ravished her barely wet pussy.

"I can't hear you!" he grabbed the belt that had fallen on the sofa beside him and lashed it over her back.

"I love it, I need it, I want it," she chanted to the rhythm of his pounding. "Ned, you're hurting me, so bad!" she gasped.

"Hurting you? What kind of ungrateful cock whore are you? You all want big cocks in your little holes, and then you are complaining when it hurts! Fucking whore! Shut the fuck up!" He spat at her in disgust at her ingratitude and thrust into her harder than ever. She lowered her head further and bit her lip, trying not to cry out in case he thought it was in pleasure.

He was now lost in a pre-orgasmic state. She was not even there, just an object before him, just a hole, a fuck hole, a place for him to ram his cock and satisfy himself until he shot it full of his cum.

He had fantasised for weeks about reclaiming her in a scene much like this. If Cat wouldn't come back to him on her own, he would take what he wanted from her. He was close, his hips bucked harder and his balls tightened. He felt some cum shoot into her pussy, then quickly pulled it out. He grabbed at her hair with great force and yanked her head back, making her body tremble and turn.

She felt his cock violate her mouth and slide all the way down her throat, making her gag, and her mouth filled with spit and saliva, dripping down her chin as he released his hold on her hair and grabbed at the sides of her head with both hands. He face fucked her hard, very hard, she was gagging and searching for air when he finally stilled his movements and exploded.

"Drink my cum, you fucking whore!" He shouted as he came. He let go and moved away from her, satisfied that he'd used her good and proper, looking at her cum covered face while she shook and sweated. Her hair was a mess; her skirt was ripped, knickers torn off. She looked every inch his whore. She was his dirty fucking whore good now. As he watched her, he saw her turn her head toward the front of the house, and her eyes widen in panic.

"Shit," he swore. "David's here! You want him safe? Get your ass into the garage, Now!" he growled. He made her run and pushed her down the two small steps into the garage where she sprawled in the broken timbers and canvas of her paintings, hitting her face and head hard against the cement floor and surrounding debris, making her cry out. "Not one word. I'll be back for you, or him, it's your choice. One way or another I win, you dumb cunt."

The garage doors rattled but didn't give, Ned bolted through the rear of the property, leaving her a broken woman in a broken pile of timber frames and canvases for David to find. 'Stupid fuckers shouldn't have pushed me this far. Now they would both pay the penalty and live on edge waiting for my return.' Ned grimaced as he took two more fences and a running leap before finally making it to where he had left his car. He drove away calmly, secure in the knowledge that Cat would return to the small run-down flat and him tonight.

*****

David raced home; he had gotten a weird phone call from Cat. He couldn't hear her properly, as if the phone had been covered, but he could hear raised voices and banging in the background as if there was a fight occurring. When he pulled up at the house, he saw that the garage door had been forced open and closed again. He ran through the house and found Cat sitting amidst the ruins of her makeshift studio, crying.

"What happened?" David asked, stunned by the wreckage and the swelling bruise on her cheek.

"I. Came. Home. Early." Cat managed in hiccupping sobs, looking up at him with dazed eyes before lifting her hands in a sign of defeat and letting fresh tears roll down her face. Her boss was going to be here soon, and she had nothing left to show her.

David sat beside her, unsure if she had other injuries from disturbing an intruder, and made three phone calls to the ambulance, police and Mick, in that order. From the time he heard her call and finally got away from work to make the drive home it had been almost forty-five minutes. He knew it would be at least another twenty minutes before an ambulance would make it here, and he held his sister close to his chest, feeling how cold she was. He struggled awkwardly to remove his jacket and wrap it around her.

"Help is coming," he murmured as she continued to sob.

"Boss. Coming. Nothing. To. Show," she lifted her hands, spreading them wide. Her sobs seemed to gain force again. He had never seen her break down like this. No matter what happened in their lives, and he thought to himself some really shitty things had happened to them, she had always been the strong one. She was the one who had looked after him for his entire life. It was Cat who told him he could do anything, encouraged him to play football when the scholarship was offered, and take the internship when it was offered. He didn't know what to do with a Cat who was broken and wracked by painful sobs, and he swore in frustration.

"I hear the ambulance. Everything is going to be okay," David rubbed her back, willing her to stop crying. "I'm here, I will always be here. Everything is going to be fine now, I promise."

"No," she shook her head. "It won't." She sobbed with renewed vigour. She knew who had done this to her, and she knew that while she stayed here she would be putting her brother in just as much danger as she was in.

The paramedics approached cautiously, but Cat refused to leave her brother. David cajoled and promised to stay with her and hold her hand, and finally she let the men examine her. Mick came home and was shocked by the utter destruction of the art studio.

"Have you been inside?" Mick murmured close to David's ear.

"I found her sitting in the middle of that, hysterical, I didn't make it any further," David explained. "Go check it out; the police will be here soon. Just don't touch anything."

David felt lost. He couldn't do this. He knew he had to look after his sister and pull everything together, but he was filled with indecision and insecurity. He'd always had Cat to rely on. Cat was always there whenever he had a problem. She was the one who took charge and stayed calm and fixed everything for him. She'd always seemed six-foot-tall and bulletproof to him, and to see her like this broke his heart and made him clutch at how to help her. He had no experience with being the stronger sibling.