Heroes, David Hagberg [me reader .txt] 📗

father’s advice, though well meant, was terribly old-fashioned. Damned near Victorian. But now he wasn’t so sure. He had found his girl. And as bitter as the thought made him feel, he knew that if they remained together, they’d have the life his father had promised.

The toilet flushed, and a minute or two later Katrina returned, wearing Deland’s sweater and carrying the wine and both glasses.

She got into bed with him and poured them both some wine.

She reached over and set the bottle on the floor, exposing herself.

Deland reached out and touched her inner thigh, and she spun around so fast she spilled her wine.

“What kind of a pervert are you?” she shrieked, laughing.

He looked into her eyes. He wanted so very much to remain with her. But it was impossible. In a few hours he’d be on the Berlin train. After that, there’d be no coming back. Ever.

Her grin faded. “Edmund?” she said. “What is it, darling? I didn’t mean what I said.”

He shook his head and looked away. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

She took his wine and put it down. Then she turned his head so that he was again facing her. “Something is wrong. Something!

What is it?”

God, he wanted her. Tell her everything, something inside of him shouted. Take her with you. Get her out of Germany. They could remain in Switzerland until the war was over. It hurt so much. “I … have to go, Katrina.”

“Go?” she snapped. “Go where? To do what?”

“Back to my room. Tomorrow … there is a lot of work yet I have to do.”

“No; God in heaven, no, Edmund. Not just like this.”

Deland couldn’t say a thing. He loved her.

“You just …” she started, and she looked away for a moment. “You just can’t do this to me. You just can’t come up here, make love to me, then disappear.”

“I’m not going to disappear,” he lied. The war couldn’t last much longer. He’d come back for her, the foolish thought crossed his mind.

“Then stay, please. Rudy and Maria won’t be back for hours.

They promised. I will make you a nice dinner. You must eat.

Afterwards we’ll listen to music … make love, and then you can go home early.”

Deland held his silence.

“Oh God, Edmund, please don’t do this to me,” she cried.

She yanked the sweater off and cupped her breasts. “See?” she said breathlessly. “See?” She jerked the covers back, exposing Deland’s nakedness, and threw herself down, kissing his legs and his flaccid penis.

Deland was suddenly angry by what she was doing to herself.

He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back. “Don’t do that, Katy.”

“Edmund!” she screeched, throwing herself at him again.

Deland lifted her away. Blood roared in his ears. His muscles were bunched. “No,” he shouted hoarsely. He wanted to hit something. “Not like this. You’re not a whore, Katy. Not like this. I love you. You can’t do this.”

Then she was on her knees, coming into his arms, and they were kissing deeply, tears rolling down her cheeks, her entire body shaking, as he held her tighter and tighter against him.

They fell back, kissing and caressing each other, like the starved lovers they were, and Deland could feel himself responding.

But then he remembered the time. He had to return to his rooming house to get his things, and then get back to the station— all before 8:30. It would be a long, very cold walk.

He eased her away, then started to get out of the bed, but she was on his back, clinging desperately to him. For a moment he struggled against her, but then he stopped, willing his body to completely relax.

She got out of bed and knelt down on the floor in front of him, her tear-filled eyes wide.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Deland said, hating the lie.

She shook her head. “You just used me. Admit it.”

Deland took her hands. “That’s not true, Katrina. You must believe that. I love you. I will always love you.” It hurt so much to say what he was saying to her, because this part was true.

“There is something! Verdammt! I can see it in your eyes.”

“It’s my work. It’s important.”

“More important than me … ?” She cut herself off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She buried her head in his knees.

“I’m sorry, Edmund,” she said, her voice muffled.

Deland stroked the back of her neck for a while, and then he helped her to her feet, kissed her. When they parted, he forced a smile.

“It has been a wonderful afternoon, Katy. There will be others. Many others.”

She just looked at him.

“Please,” he said, his heart breaking. “I was a lousy lover, but I will get better.”

“No … oh, no, you were wonderful,” she gushed, and then she had to laugh. “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”

Deland grinned. He nodded. “Yes. But I don’t care. I love you all the more.”

She reached up and kissed him on the chin. “You must clean up before you leave. If your landlady gets a whiff of you, she’ll know immediately you’ve been a bad boy. In the meantime, I’ll make you a sandwich to eat on the way.”

She grabbed his sweater and pulled it on. “I’m going to keep this so you will have to come back to me.” She turned and marched back into the kitchen.

Deland gathered up his clothes from the living room, then went into the bathroom where he cleaned up and got dressed. He was very confused. Images of his school days in Gottingen intermingled with his days in Wisconsin; memories of camaraderie and student pubs mixed with those of family and picnics by the lake. Overriding all of that, his terribly complex feelings about Katrina. He loved her, and yet he knew that such a thing was impossible for them. She was a Nazi, or at least she worked for them, and yet he felt she was an innocent. In many ways she acted like the whores of San Antonio, yet she fit so well with him that it had to