What Kind of Man || Jim Moriarty

Fifteen

It had been five days since her first job and Katherine was still to hear anything more from Moriarty or any of his men. Or from anyone at all. They had crossed the line into November and the nights were drawing in and the temperatures were starting to roll down the thermometer. Not that Katherine could tell however, from the cosines and confinement of the apartment.

She'd been surprised, to say the least, when the phone had buzzed a few hours ago in-between the time of lunch and afternoon tea. She'd been keeping it close to her every day, never leaving it alone even when it was just to go for a drink of water from the kitchen, and finally it had made a noise. The screen little up with just a number, not surprising since it had no contacts in, and she'd unlocked the device to read the small, blunt massage.

'Drinks tonight. I'll be there at 8.
Jim Moriarty.'

She hadn't known whether to reply or not, but then she'd remembered what he'd said about trying to make calls. Even if she'd been able to though, she wouldn't have. He'd made his message clear and the only reply he needed was for her to be ready for when he arrived.

However it was now, as she stood in front of the dresser in the master bedroom curling her last piece of hair, that she realised she wasn't going to be ready. It was 7:45 and though her makeup was done, Katherine had yet to pick between the two dresses and fix all the small bits. It was either the dress she'd already been out with him in or the one he'd picked for her to work in which still reached of bleach and was tainted with dirt. It made the choice pretty easy, but still, she was no where near ready to put it on.

As the strand of hair fell out from the heated straighteners, she twisted it to keep the shape of the curl but then stilled as a noise came from the hallway. The front door. The click of the lock was easy to hear as the rest of the apartment was silent and then she'd heard footsteps. His footsteps.

With small and hesitant steps, Katherine walked to the door of the bedroom after putting the styler down. Her arms crossed over her chest after opening the door and stepped out into the hallway, wearing a thin vest top over her bra and a pair of jogging bottoms. That's when she saw him, stood by the front door still with his phone in his hand and a dry cleaning bad flung over his shoulder.

"Good. You haven't dressed yet." Jim skipped the greeting, in fact he didn't even look up at her as he spoke. He must have seen her out the corner of his eyes however, for him to know her state of dress. "Well, come here." He rolled his eyes as if she was deliberately being awkward and dropped the mobile into his pocket to look up. Katherine was already walking to him when his eyes seemed to scan over her hair and make up.

"Evening." Her voice was barely a whisper. "But why is it good?"

"Because. I got you this." As an answer, Moriarty swung the bag around to drop it into her arms. "Go put it on. Quickly, the cars waiting." There was a coldness to him, and the way he took his phone back out as soon as she went to turn, made it obvious something wasn't going strictly to plan. Maybe in his work? She didn't know, but Katherine made note of Jim hissing and his voice near screaming into the mobile device as he climbed the steps to wait for her.

Trying to ignore it, she shut the door to the bedroom and just like a few days ago, threw the bag down onto the bed. It took only a second to unzip the plastic but she saw more than she bargained for as the front cover was pulled back. Not only was there a dress, but a shoes box and something rolled in tissue paper lying at the bottom. He couldn't have, not again.

She started with the dress this time. It was white, that was plain to see, white with very little detail to it. It was only when Katherine picked it up out of the bag and held it out in front of her she realised it was a pure white pencil dress which had a twisted back, the straps going around each other only once before being secured to the waist. It left most of her back on show but she didn't mind since the front had a high neck. That, and the fact the dress was gorgeous. So plain yet beautiful. Oscar De La Renta is what the label said and it made her knees weak, them dresses didn't come cheap.