Kronberg Crimes 01 - The Devils Grin

like an insect. Most certainly, that thought had never touched his brain.
    He helped me undo the countless buttons on my dress, inhaled a sigh as he peeled it off the satin corset. His fingers searched for the corset’s secret opening and I heard his heart thumping wildly as the silk ribbons whispered through the eyelets. Tense with anticipation, I listened to the rustling of hands on fabric and the staccato of his breath against my skin, while my fingers shed his clothes — so much easier than shedding mine.
    Impatience ignited his eyes as he lifted me effortlessly and I wrapped my legs around his waist, the soft hair of his chest against my breasts and stomach. When he held me, I could forget about the complicated web of lies I had woven for myself. In his arms I was but a simple woman, loved by a simple man.
    In the glass across the room the reflection of his broad back glistened in the candlelight and both, man and light, moved rhythmically. To me, all about him was gentle and rough at the same time. Every so often, he, with his orange mane and his coarse tongue and paws, made me think of a lion.

    ~~~

    The candle had almost burned down. Its flickering light painted golden sparks into the curls on Garret’s chest. I rolled them around my index finger, lazily, again and again. His ribcage moved up and down — a slow and calming rhythm — and my thoughts began to gallop freely.
    I imagined living a normal life. I knew these thoughts were a waste of my time. And yet, I needed to think them, as an experiment of ifs and whys that always brought me back to where I was now.
    I had chosen a life in disguise because I wanted to practise medicine. I was the only female medical doctor in London. Not officially, though.
    What a man had I become! I was so accomplished in speaking, walking, behaving like a man that no one ever doubted my sex.
    I had split my life in two: the male half, which I maintained during the day — Dr Anton Kronberg, renowned bacteriologist; and my female half at night — Anna Kronberg, a rather fragile-looking nurse with a progressively short haircut. But, as I lived in the slums where most people made a living with illegal activities, my hacked off hair didn’t really qualify for gossip. My illicit relationship with Garret didn’t raise eyebrows, either.
    Garret stirred and drew his hand over my back. His face turned towards me and his breath washed over my face. I kissed him and sat up.
    ‘Isn’t it time?’ I wondered.
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘Thieving activities, Garret. It’s almost midnight.’
    ‘Not tonight,’ he mumbled and his gaze fell on my abdomen. His hand followed. He traced the long scar with his fingers and said, frowning, ‘When will ya tell me?’
    I pushed his hand away and rose to my feet, ignoring the question.
    ‘God damn it, Anna!’ he groaned. ‘You’re trustin’ me enough to fuck ya and not break ya, but anythin’ else is locked up in that big head o’ yours!’
    ‘Shut up, Garret,’ I replied quietly. ‘I hate it when you call it fucking .’
    ‘What is it then? Ya wouldn’ even think o’ marryin’ me.’
    ‘Aren’t you a hypocrite,’ I snarled at him. His quizzical expression told me he didn’t know what the word hypocrite meant. I didn’t bother explaining. ‘Do you suddenly worry about morals, Garret? Could it be? It is perfectly fine for you to burgle houses and hurt anyone who’s between you and the loot, but lying with me without us being husband and wife is wrong?’
    He stared at me, not knowing what to say. It had taken him a while to accept that I did not care to be married. I knew I shouldn’t impose marriage on anyone; not with me as a wife. I couldn’t even bear children.
    ‘I never lied to ya!’ he protested.
    I gazed at him until his eyes had lost the brutish glint, sat down next to him again and answered, ‘Did I ever lie to you? I never pretended I could give you more, I told you I wouldn’t be able to answer all your questions. You know there are things I cannot share.’
    ‘Ya never tell the reasons,’ he croaked.
    ‘No, I don’t,’ I whispered, and touched his cheek with my fingertips. He closed his eyes. Not in pleasure, but in pain.
    ‘Garret, you are my best friend. I give you all I can. Isn’t that enough?’
    He picked up my hand and gazed at it, kissed my palm, contemplated for a moment, and then growled, ‘No, it isn’t.’
    I was about to push myself away as he, all of a sudden, pulled me closer, wrapped