Every Touch (13 page)

   “I haven’t seen him, but he has to be creepy.  He sounds creepy.” 

   Denny suspected that might just be wishful thinking on his part, but he needed to hold onto some kind of hope.

   Oliver was looking at him sadly.  “You knew this day would come.  She doesn’t even know you exist.  She’s a sizzling hot young woman.  It was going to happen sooner or later.”

   “I know, but...  I just wanted it to be later.  Much later.  After I’ve gone later.”  He ran his hand through his hair, looking at Oliver.  “I love her.”

   “I know, man.  Tell you what, if it’s in my zone, I’ll hang around there and make sure she’s okay.”

   “I don’t know where she’s gone.  She mentioned coffee.  She went down Oak Street.”

   Oliver leaped to his feet.  “I’ll check all the coffee shops down there then.  If she was walking she can’t have gone far.”  He smiled.  “Don’t worry, I’ll find her.”

   Denny smiled gratefully.  “Thanks, Ol.  You’re a good friend.”

   “I am, aren’t I?” he replied with a grin, bounding down the steps and disappearing up the street.

***

Denny paced back and forth across the lobby.  It wasn’t a very big lobby, so he couldn’t go very far, but he paced nevertheless, ranging between the mail boxes on one side and the wall on the other.  Every so often he would stop and peer through the glass door, then resume his uptight pacing. 

   It was getting dark outside.  Where was she?  What if Oliver hadn’t been able to find her?  Something could have happened to her and he wouldn’t know.  How long could a cup of coffee take?  That’s all it was, one damn cup of coffee.  Even if she’d drunk it really slowly, she should have been back long ago.

   He was about to go back up to the flat to see if he could see her from the balcony when he suddenly saw her crossing the road outside, Oliver at her side.  Seeing Denny, he ran ahead of her.

   “They were at Costa,” he said.  “The guy behaved himself.  She seemed to be enjoying herself.”  Seeing the look on Denny’s face, he added rapidly, “But I’m sure he’s a total dick, which Laila will no doubt have noticed.”

   Denny sighed, watching her approach the door.  “Thanks, Oliver.  You going to the park now?”

   “Actually, I thought I might head back to the coffee shop.  There was the cutest barista there.  I’m going to see if I can walk her home after her shift.”  He stepped aside to let Laila past.  “Bye, Laila.”

   “See you tomorrow, Ol,” Denny said, turning to follow her to the lift. 

   “Where have you been?” he demanded as soon as they got inside.  “I was worried sick about you.”  He looked down at her legs as they rode up to the third floor.  “That dress is too damn short,” he said, “that creep had better not have been looking at...” 

   He stopped at the sound of humming and looked up at her face.  She was smiling.  And humming.  A hole opened in the pit of his stomach.  It stayed there as they exited the lift and went into the flat.  She looked so happy, as happy as he ever remembered seeing her.  It was the most beautiful and the most awful thing he’d ever seen.  He wanted her to be happy, but not like this, not with another man.

   “Stop it, Denny,” he berated himself. “She’s not yours and she won’t ever be.” 

   He stopped as tears welled up into his eyes. 

   “Yeah, I’m back.” 

   Laila had retrieved her phone from her bag and was speaking into it as she walked into the bedroom.  She smiled. 

   “It was nice...  he was the perfect gentleman...  no, he didn’t try anything.  We were in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, what could he have done?...  Well, he didn’t...”

   She shrugged her jacket off, switching hands on the phone as she did so, and laughed.

  “Yes, he paid...  I know...  he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him tomorrow...  I said yes.  I like him...  I will be careful...  I’m going to take a shower now.  I’ll speak to you tomorrow...  ‘Bye Kel.”

   Denny was staring at her in dismay.  She was going to see the creep again. Anger clutched at him. 

   “It’s not fair!” he shouted, “I should be alive.” He looked at Laila and his voice quietened. “And she should be mine.” 

   She began to undress and Denny turned away quickly, feeling like he was going to explode with frustration.  Why should he have to suffer like this?  He was the victim, he was the one who had been murdered.  Why couldn’t he have anything for himself? 

   He put his hands over his face and drew in a shuddering breath.  He should leave.  He should just walk out now.  But he didn’t. 

   Heart pounding, he turned around slowly.  Laila’s dress was lying on the chair and she was stepping out of her shoes as she reached back to unhook her bra. 

   It wasn’t her fault. He should leave her alone and give her her privacy.  But it wasn’t his fault either, and he wanted this so much.  He wanted some part of her, just one small part.  No-one else knew her like he did.  No-one else’s heart had been broken over and over as they watched her cry herself to sleep at night.  No-one else was in love with her the way he was.

  It was harmless.  She would never know. 

   He continued to watch as she removed her bra and then her panties.  He caught his breath, swallowing hard.  She was incredible, beautiful.  The sexiest woman he had ever seen, every part of her body, her curves, her skin, the way she moved, everything was perfection.  He felt himself straining at his jeans.  She walked into the bathroom.  After a moment’s hesitation, he followed. 

   Stepping into the shower, she turned on the water and tilted her head back, letting the spray flow through her hair and down over her body.  Denny leaned back against the wall and watched her, unzipping his fly.  He wanted her so badly he was physically in pain.  Freeing himself from the restraints of his jeans and underpants, he ran his fingers along his erection as he watched her pour shower cream into her hands and begin to cover herself in lather.  He groaned, grasping himself and running his hand back and forth along his rock hard shaft.

   “Laila,” he whispered, “Laila.”

   Her hands moved over her wet soapy body, around her breasts and down to her stomach, between her thighs.  He leaned his head back against the tiled wall, increasing the rhythm of his stroking, harder and faster, his eyes fixed on her, until the blood was rushing in his ears and he was crying out, working himself into release, erupting over the bathroom floor.

   He slumped back against the wall, looking down as his semen shimmered and vanished on the tiled floor.  The water switched off and he looked up to see Laila step from the shower, wrap a towel around herself in front of him then walk back into the bedroom. 

   Denny closed his eyes, shaking his head.  Tears spilled down his cheeks.  He pulled his underwear and jeans back up angrily as guilt tore at him.  How could he have done that to her?  Even if there had been a way for them to be together, he didn’t deserve her. 

   Walking back into the bedroom, he could barely look in her direction.

   “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

   He walked out and left the flat.

Denny didn’t return to the flat for three days.  Fortunately, Mr and Mrs Jameson in flat three on the ground floor were currently on speaking terms so were sleeping in the same room and he could use their spare bedroom. 

   He felt as if he’d betrayed the woman he loved.  For over four years he had kept to his code of ethics.  It had been one of the ways he’d held onto his humanity, when it often felt to him like he was barely human anymore.  He’d treated all the people who lived in his building with respect and consideration, giving them their privacy whenever he felt they needed it.  And then he’d done what he did, to the most important person in the world to him. 

   His actions hadn’t been born of violence or anger, but he still felt deeply ashamed.  He felt like his feelings for Laila were pushing him over the edge.  What if he’d been alive still and they had met and she’d rejected him?  Would he have become some kind of crazed stalker, convinced that they were meant to be together?  That thought scared him.  Was he finally going insane?  Maybe this was why ghosts didn’t get to stay on earth very long.  Maybe they all eventually went crazy and had to go.  Maybe he was heading in that direction too. 

   Eventually, however, being away from her became too much for him to bear.

   When he returned to the flat it was evening and Laila was sitting on the sofa, watching the TV.  Her knees were bent, her feet pulled up onto the seat next to her, and she was wearing her huge jumper which she had pulled down over her legs.  Denny stood and stared at her for a while, trying to identify any crazed, psychotic urges he might be having.

   When all he could feel for her was love, he decided to trust himself around her for the time being.  He knew he wasn’t ready to let her go. 

   He walked to the sofa and sat down next to her, looking at the screen. 
Tremors
was on, a favourite they both shared.  He settled down to watch, glancing at Laila beside him and then back at the screen.

   He smiled.  It was good to be home. 

It hadn’t been a fun couple of weeks and it was about to get a lot worse.

   Denny lay on his back on the sofa staring at the ceiling, his legs dangling over the arm, and waited for Laila to get dressed. 

   Every time she left for a date with Avery, he felt like his heart broke a little bit more.  He’d tried ignoring it.  He’d tried not being around when she left, although he always waited for her to return, to make sure she was safe.  He’d tried screaming and shouting and throwing non-breakable things when she was gone, cushions mostly as they were quiet.  None of it worked, none of it made him feel any better. 

   All he could do was spend all the time she was in the flat with her. 

   At home, she was his.  The way she relaxed and had fun by herself, dancing and singing to the radio as she cooked and cleaned. The way they laughed at comedies when watching TV together. The way she fell asleep curled up on the sofa, when reading late, and he would catch her book before it fell from her grasp and replace her bookmark and lay it gently on her lap.  It always made him smile, how she would wake again and frown, trying to work out how she could have put the bookmark in while asleep. Then she would smile and shrug and go to bed.  It was his connection with her, something she could see.  One tiny way he could demonstrate how much he cared for her.  It wasn’t much, but it was his. 

   But now all that was going to change.  Tonight, the creep was coming over for dinner.

   It would be the first time he’d seen Avery.  He would have been quite happy never to see Avery.  Denny was slightly worried the desire to punch him would be so strong he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself.  And what if he kissed her?  He didn’t know how he’d be able to take seeing that happen.  But there was no way he was going anywhere.  He was staying right here, however much agony it caused him.  He couldn’t protect her anywhere else, but he was going to make sure Laila was safe in their home.  And that Avery didn’t try anything. 

   The intercom buzzer from the building’s front door sounded and the door to the bedroom opened, sucking Denny’s breath with it.  Laila walked out, fastening her necklace as she walked across the room.  He sat up, mesmerised.  She was stunning, wearing a dark purple sleeveless dress that skimmed her curves and ended just above her knees and her hair was pinned up loosely, leaving her shoulders bare.

   “Hello?” she spoke into the receiver, balancing it on her shoulder as she pinned up a stray lock of hair.  Without it pressed to her ear, Denny could hear the voice on the other end.

   “It’s me, babe,” a man’s deep voice said. 

   He grimaced. 
Babe
.  Already he hated him.

   “Come on up,” she said, pushing the button to unlock the door to the building.

   Denny stood and watched her as she went to check the meal she had cooking in the oven.  He’d never seen her so dressed up.  She looked incredible.  His heart was racing and he squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of the woman he loved looking so good for another man.  How was he going to make it through the evening?

  The sound of the doorbell startled him.  He knew he was far too on edge.  He needed to calm down before he did something he’d regret.  Standing perfectly still, he took a few deep breaths like Ingrid, his yoga instructor girlfriend, had taught him.

   “Hello Avery,” Laila said as she opened the door.

   “Laila, Laila, Laila.  You look amazing.” 

   The man outside the door had dark, almost black hair and eyes.  Swarthy was the word that immediately jumped into Denny’s mind.  He was wearing a dark blue suit with a black shirt and carrying a bunch of red roses.  And his eyes were travelling disgustingly down Laila’s body. 

   Denny instantly wanted to throw him out a window.