Every Touch (34 page)

   Her moans grew louder as he drove her against the wall.  Her body burned hotter and hotter.  His hips lunged forwards, slamming against her as he stretched her tightening body almost to breaking point.  She snapped her eyes open, staring at his water sculpted face.  His mouth was open and she could feel his chest vibrating with his groans.

   “Denny,” she gasped, “oh, Denny.”  Then she was fracturing, crying out, her eyes not leaving the glittering outline of his features as he crashed against her in release, their faces almost touching as they climaxed together.

   Laila panted for breath.  Denny was still holding her pressed against the wall of the shower, his chest rising and falling against her.  He tilted his head forward and leaned his forehead against hers for a few seconds, then stepped back and lowered her gently to the floor, turning the shower off.

   A surge of emotion rose from her chest.  She looked up at the sparkling outline of his face and a tear escaped down her cheek.  Another followed.  His hands moved to her shoulders and a sob spilled out.  As he wrapped her in his embrace, all she could do was cry against his chest as her emotions overcame her.

   When her tears finally stopped, she pulled back from him and sniffed.

   “I’m okay,” she said.

   Gentle fingertips wiped the tears from her face before he opened the shower door and lead the way out.  The water on his skin was already drying, his glittering form fading before her eyes, and when he took a towel from the rail and began to dry the moisture from her body, parts of his shape vanished as it brushed against him, absorbing the water still clinging to his skin.  Finally, he used the same towel to dry himself and she watched as he vanished in front of her.

   He wrapped her in the towel and they left the bathroom, climbing onto the bed together.  Denny took paper and pen from the bedside cabinet.  He circled one arm around her and she lay her head against his bare chest as he wrote.

  
Tell me.

   She sighed.  “I don’t know.  It was just, seeing you like that and then making love...  it was so much.  I was a bit overwhelmed, I think.”  She smiled.  “I’m embarrassed I just burst into tears like that.”

   It was a while before he wrote again.

  
I hate how this is affecting you.  I only want you to be happy, but this is all so hard on you. 
He paused for a few seconds. 
Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better for you if I’d never

  
He stopped.  Laila stared at his words on the page. 

   “If you’d never what?” she said, her voice quiet.  She felt him sigh.

  
If I’d never taken your hand that first time when you asked me to.  If you had never known me.  It was a selfish thing for me to do.

   Her first instinct was to tell Denny he was wrong, but she stopped and thought about it.  What would her life be like now without him?  What would she be like without ever having known him?

   “If I had never known you,” she said, measuring her words as she thought, “I know that I would still be the frightened woman I was when I moved here.  I would still think, deep down, that I was as weak as Gary made me feel.  Maybe that would have changed in time, but it would be nothing like this.  I feel stronger than I have ever felt, even before Gary.  I’ve done things I never thought I was capable of, all because you believe in me. 

   “But more than that, you have made me feel more love than I ever thought possible.  Sometimes my emotions may get the better of me, but I am happy every second of every day because I have you.  I would never have known happiness like this if I hadn’t met you.”

   She tapped her fingertip against his chest to emphasize her point, then felt for his hand and wrapped it in hers, pulling it against her chest.

   “Even if this doesn’t work, even if I lose you, I will never regret having known you and loved you.  You have made me a better, stronger person and that will never change.  So you’d better believe me when I say, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.  And don’t you dare think otherwise.”

   She stopped speaking, glad she’d made it through her heartfelt speech without bursting into tears again. 

   Denny was still for a few seconds, then pulled his hand from her grasp, turned onto his side towards her and wrapped both arms around her.  His legs entwined with hers and he held her tight against him, his face nuzzling against the top of her head.  She wound her arm around him and pressed her head to his chest.

   “I love you,” she whispered against his skin.

   His chest vibrated as he spoke and she knew without doubt that he was saying, “I love you too.”

   They lay wrapped around each other for some time before Laila began kissing the warm, soft skin pressed against her and they were soon making love again.  Afterwards, she ate and they cuddled together on the sofa to watch TV. 

   After a few minutes there was a knock on the door, loud and insistent. 

   “That’s weird,” Laila said, “I didn’t buzz anyone in.”  She felt Denny shrug his shoulders beside her.

   Standing, she went to the door, knowing he was right there with her even without touching him.  She knew how protective of her he was.  Smiling at the thought, she peeked through the spy hole and gasped.  She stepped back and felt Denny’s arms wrap around her.  There was another knock, even louder this time.

   “It’s her,” Laila whispered, “it’s Trish.”

   Denny stiffened and his hold on her tightened.  She could feel him trembling. 

   “I have to open the door,” she said quietly.  She felt a tap on her wrist and he released his grip.  Swallowing nervously, she slid the security chain from its cradle and hesitantly opened the door.

   Trish stared at her.  She looked furious and Laila took an unconscious step back.

   “What kind of twisted, sick monster are you?” Trish said from between gritted teeth.  Laila took another couple of steps away from the door and Trish followed her into the flat.  “Where are they?” she demanded.  “I want the boxes back right now.  I don’t know what you’re doing or what kind of deranged fantasy you have going on and I don’t care.  I just want the boxes back and I never want to see you again.”

   “I don’t... how...” 

   “A neighbour asked me if the woman he’d seen go around the back of my house a few days ago was a relative.  His description sounded exactly like you, then I found that the boxes were missing.”  She shook her head, jabbing her finger at Laila.  “I welcomed you into my home.  I told you all about him.  I thought you actually cared.”

   She should have known breaking into Trish’s house had been too easy.  Laila had no idea what to do.  She and Denny had discussed telling his sister, but this was definitely
not
how it was supposed to happen.

   She stood up straight and tried to fake an air of trustworthy confidence.

   “I’m sorry,” she said, “but you can’t have them back.  I need them.”

   “Need them?” Trish almost yelled.  “For what?  You think that just because you live in his flat that somehow you know him?  That you have some kind of connection to him?  You don’t.  He was
my
brother and now he’s gone and that pain is mine, not yours.  So give me the boxes right now.”

   Her eyes filled with tears.  Laila felt like the monster Trish thought she was.

   “I can’t,” she said, “I just can’t give...”

   Trish lunged forward, slapping her hard.  Laila gasped, putting her hand to her stinging face. 

   The door to the hallway slammed shut. 

   Trish whirled to look at it, startled.  “What was that?!”

   Laila stepped back out of her reach, in case she decided to hit her again.  “That was Denny.”

   Trish looked at her as if she’d gone insane.  It was a look Laila was getting used to.

  “What do you mean, that was Denny?”

   “I mean, that was Denny who closed the door,” Laila said quietly, hoping he knew what he was doing and that Trish wouldn’t completely lose it.

   Trish shook her head.  “You’re crazy.  I’m getting out of here and I’m coming back with the police.”  Marching back to the door, she pulled on it.  It opened a fraction then slammed back shut.  She yanked on the handle again, but this time it didn’t budge. 

   Laila walked over to her, stopping just out of arm’s reach.

   “Let.  Me.  Out,” Trish said, her voice trembling with fury.

   “Please,” Laila said, “let me explain.”

   “Go on then,” Trish said, folding her arms defiantly, “explain to me how my dead brother closed the door.”

   There was no way to break this kind of thing without sounding like a lunatic.  Laila took a deep breath and tried to prepare for the worst.

  “Denny is a ghost.  And he’s here.  Holding the door closed.”

   A moment of uncertainty flashed across Trish’s face, then it was gone, replaced with anger again.  “This is some kind of trick and I’m calling the police,” she said, taking her phone from her pocket.

  It was immediately pulled from her grasp, appearing to float upwards and hover in mid-air.  Trish stared at it, her eyes wide.

   “What...?” 

   She backed into the middle of the room, still staring at the phone which was lowering back down. Laila put her hand out and Denny gave the phone to her.  She felt his hand on her shoulder briefly before he moved away.  Trish was standing rigid, radiating tension.  She looked terrified.  Laila felt desperately sorry for her.

   “It’s alright,” she said, trying to sound reassuring.  “I know it all seems totally crazy and overwhelming, believe me.  When Denny and I first met, I seriously doubted my sanity.  But it’s him, it really is.”

   “How... I don’t... I can’t...” A couple of tears rolled down her face.  She took a shuddering breath.  “Where is he?” she whispered.

   “Just hold out your hand.”

   She hesitantly raised one trembling hand, then gasped and pulled it back.  Laila smiled, remembering reacting the same way, the first time Denny had touched her. 

   “It’s okay,” she said, “he’s there.”

   Trish raised her hand again and then looked at it in wonder.  Her fingers curled around Denny’s invisible hand.  After a few moments, she looked at her shoulder. 

   “Denny?” she whispered, voice shaking. 

   Her hand dropped and she gasped, stiffening.  Laila could see the indentations in the back of Trish’s jacket where Denny’s hands held her.  With a sob, she crumpled into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and weeping. 

   So much for not crying again, Laila thought as tears ran down her face.  But she was smiling, knowing Denny had to be crying too.  After so many years of being apart, he had his sister back.

*

Denny couldn’t let go. 

   He lost track of time as he and Trish clung to each other.  He was crying, she was crying, and he just couldn’t seem to let go.  He almost felt like if he let her out of his arms, he would lose his sister again. 

   He glanced over at Laila to see tears running down her face.  He wanted to hold her too, but to do that he would have to let go of Trish.  Looking back and forth between the two of them, the situation suddenly seemed funny.  He began to laugh.  Trish pulled back.

   “Are you laughing?” she said, smiling.

   He tapped her hand without thinking and she looked at it in confusion.

   “I just felt a tap on my hand,” she said, glancing at Laila.

   “One for yes, two for no,” Laila replied, walking over to them.

   Denny reached out to brush the tears from her face and she smiled.

   “I have a lot of questions,” Trish said.  “You wouldn’t believe the amount of questions I have.”

   “Would you like something to drink?” Laila asked.

   “Got any scotch?” she said with a wry smile. 

   Both he and Laila laughed and Trish frowned.

   “What?”

   “You just reminded me of someone we know,” Laila said.  “Sorry, we’re out of scotch.” 

   “Water, please,” Trish said, “with ice if you have it.”

   Denny took hold of her hand and led her to the sofa, sitting next to her and picking up the pen and pad.  He started writing while Laila fetched the water.

  
Hello Trish.  I’ve missed you so much.

   She felt for his hand.  “I’ve missed you too.”  She barely got the final word out, her voice cracking at the end.  Denny saw tears shining in her eyes again.  “If I’d known you were here...”

   He put his hand on her shoulder before writing. 
You couldn’t have known.  I’ve been alright.  And now I have Laila.

  
As if on cue, she returned with the water and handed it to Trish, sitting down beside him and laying her hand on his arm.  Trish took a drink of the water, watching over the rim of the glass.

   “Are you two...?” she said, raising her eyebrows. 

   Denny almost laughed.  It was a look he was well used to, a look Trish had been giving him since he was five years old.  It was a look that said, ‘What on earth have you got yourself into now?’