Intimate Whispers (8 page)

“I need him!” she screamed over and over again.

Who was in that apartment? Who did she cry for with such desperation it made his heart plummet into his stomach?

If he approached her in the same harried state, it would do neither of them any good. Despite every urge to take her and shake her until her teeth rattled, he called down a shower of calm and walked slowly. Struggling to get his breathing under control, Jason tried again. “Sabrina. Look at me.” When she kept up the awful pounding, he tried again. “Sabrina!”

He’d never be able to put words to how he got through, but she stopped to look at him. Tears washed down her face. Red-rimmed eyes stared at him, pleading silently for help.

Like talking to a wounded bird, he kept his voice gentle. “What’s wrong, baby? Let me help you.”

“Who’s in there?” he continued, walking as slowly and smoothly as the tone of his voice. Keeping his eyes above the level of the doorknob she’d apparently not bothered to try, he prayed like hell she’d left the door unlocked. Her keys could be anywhere.

“I’ll help you.”

“I need him,” she whimpered before clamping her hands over her ears. Tears flowed fast and furious now, the sight enough to battle with his own emotions.

Whatever spoke to her, didn’t just speak. There was torture in her stance, in the way she tried to block out the voices.

The gentle click of a doorknob turning came from down the hall. He didn’t turn to face it, but heard the questioning voice. “Is everything okay out here?”

“Fine,” he replied, his voice like silk. Sabrina stood stock-still in front of him, and he kept moving slowly. She was calm now and he planned on keeping her that way.

Deliberately, he let her see him reach toward the knob. No quick actions. No threat to her. He would only open the door. He hoped.

With another small prayer, he gripped the knob and turned. His gut clenched when it didn’t budge, but this wasn’t his first time at this dance. God only knew how many times he’d locked himself out when he’d first moved in until the maintenance man 40

Intimate Whispers

clued him in to a little-known secret. So long as only the lock on the knob hadn’t been engaged, there was still a way in. If she’d engaged the deadbolt, a call to the locksmith would be in order.

Jason reached into his back pocket and whipped out his wallet. He retrieved a single credit card. For some reason Sabrina watched with rapt attention as he jimmied the slim plastic in between the latch and the jamb. A quick glance at her proved fat tears still rolled down her face, but she seemed to have acquired a measure of calm. Her astute attention might have bothered him on any other day, but today it centered him.

A puff of air escaped his mouth when after a few minutes struggle, a loud click sounded. He turned the knob again, the motion following through, and allowing him to open the front door to her apartment all the way. Sabrina let out a similar gasp of relief and slid past him. Before she made it all the way, she stopped and lifted her eyes to meet his.

He held his breath, no idea whatsoever what to expect from her. The delicate placement of her hand beneath his chin was the furthest thing he expected to happen.

Until Sabrina elevated herself on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

Her lips were soft, a whisper of a kiss so awe-inspiring its heat traveled straight down through his toes. It warmed him through, his body coming to life beneath that single place of contact. At some point his eyes slipped closed, and behind them, he saw heaven.

One simple kiss.

She pulled away and backed into her apartment. Jason swallowed hard, knowing he needed to stop her, to speak with this him-person, but his emotions tilted back and forth, his world completely off-kilter.

“Thank you,” she murmured, closing the door.

Crossing the threshold as always muted the voices. He was here, His presence alive and humming through the apartment. For some reason, she knew Jason still waited, but for what she didn’t know.

Jason on one side of the door. Him on the other.

She hesitated, needing to go to Him, but so much wanting to return to Jason. He came for her at the hospital. She remembered that. How she got there eluded her, but her neighbor brought her safely home.

Her neighbor. He was so much more than that by now, wasn’t he?

Once again, selfless, he came to her rescue and asked nothing in return. When in her right mind, after paying penance in the bedroom, she would seek him out and help him with reaching his brother. She might not be able to contact him, but she would do no less than put forth sincere effort into trying.

For now, she needed Him and He waited.

41

Dee Carney

Naked, Sabrina walked into the bedroom, her clothes a trail of breadcrumbs leading to where they would meet. In here His presence amplified, almost to the point she staggered back. This was new. His words always announced Him—not this pulse of energy that detonated within her.

You need me.

“Yes.” She nodded, crawling on all fours onto the bed, not caring if the sheets were turned down or clean. Just requiring that He put an end to the voices again. They grew louder, strangely. Their reverberating
no, no, no
forming a headache at the base of her neck and traveling up to meet at a pinnacle.

For the first time she questioned whether her body was physically ready to accept Him, because she didn’t feel the same heaviness between her thighs that normally signaled her arousal. Her mind flashed to an image of Jason. Of him beneath her as she crawled over him. His cock erect and the swollen tip glistening with a drop of his lust, waiting to be sheathed within her. She imagined the way he would watch her beneath hooded eyes, his lips moist from heavy kissing. His broad chest flushed from anticipation.

Sabrina.

His voice pulled her out of her musing, sending a wash of shame flowing over her.

She’d never fantasized about another while in His presence. Maybe helping Jason wasn’t a good idea. Maybe the woman inside, the one who longed for the touch of a real man, the one who wanted to go on dates, who wanted to be hugged and kissed didn’t need the temptation. She’d never thought about it before, but He probably wouldn’t be too pleased with being usurped.

“Please,” she offered, by way of apology. Bowing on her knees, she waited for Him to take her as He always did. To make her come again and again until He’d wrung her dry.

You do need me, Sabrina.

Her brows knitted. Although almost posed as a question, there was no inflection in that voice. No hint He expected an answer, but something resonated within her. A test, perhaps?

“I need you. Please.”

There was no warning. No preparation.

He impaled her with a vicious thrust and ripped a scream from her throat. Sabrina fell forward, trying to remove Him from her dry body, needing just a few precious seconds to allow arousal to make her ready for this.

She found no haven from Him.

His fingers found purchase on her shoulders, digging in until she readied herself to hear bone crack beneath the force. If not breaking bones, at least a seepage of blood from where He punctured her skin.

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Intimate Whispers

There was pain. So much pain, she bit down on her lip, fighting to keep the screams muffled into the mattress lest she bring the wrath of police or nosey neighbors tearing into her sanctuary. There was agony so deep, she broke the skin of her lip, and tasted the copper pungency of her blood. The same crimson tide that poured from her back and shoulders and onto her linens.

Desperate for a reprieve, she kept biting. Dared not beg for Him to stop or to tell Him no. This was her penance. Her price to pay for salvation. Instead, she cried out what she had to know. “Why?” she gasped before clamping down on her mangled lip again.

Him
.

She didn’t understand at first. Him? What did that mean?

Her lip was bloody and raw, but she refused to let it go and question Him further.

She’d been down that road once before and learned her lesson well.

But then she thought of the kiss. The sweet taste of Jason against her mouth from only minutes ago and she knew what brought on this punishment.

You need me.

His voice, sibilant and malevolent, slipped into her consciousness.

You need me.

Not for the first time she hated this. Hated that she needed Him. Hated the voices.

Her life.

He pounded against her, not working toward climax despite her body being at last receptive to the invasion. He brought displeasure. Exacted it from her.

Mine.

“Yes,” she moaned, tears filling her eyes. Unless she did something about it. She was His until the forever embrace of death claimed her. His.

Her mind drifted to Jason. To their innocent kiss. To his deep-brown eyes.

She thought of him. Kept her mind focused on her neighbor and waited for Him to be done.

* * * * *

Shouting woke her up. “Sabrina!”

A warm hand clasped her shoulder, shooting bright bursts of pain down her arms and back. Tears filled her eyes, and the memory of Him flooded back. The man called her again. “Sabrina, Jesus, what happened? Who did this to you?” Her parched throat barely moved, but she squeezed his name out between clenched teeth. “Ja…son.”

His hand lifted, but that was almost as bad as when he touched her. More starbursts appeared in front of her hazy vision. “I’m calling for help. Who did this?” 43

Dee Carney

Hours upon hours of never-ending pain. Every time she passed out, He woke her again. Every muscle in her body ached. Joints snapped when she drew her knees toward her chest, curling in a ball, seeking comfort. Her mind wrestled with Jason’s words, his alarm. Blindly, she reached for him. “No. No help…fine.” The mattress dipped when he sat down on it. “No. Look at you. The bed.” She looked up in time to see the phone in his hand, fingers poised over buttons.

“Please, Jason. Don’t.”

“Sabrina, this…” His worried gaze traveled the upper portion of her nude body.

“We have to get you help. I’ll keep you from whoever did this to you.” Placing a hand over his took more effort than she thought possible. “No. I’ll be fine.

I…” She settled into the bed, almost not caring if he stayed or left. All she wanted right now was sleep. Precious, solitary sleep. “Need to rest,” she mumbled.

Sleep claimed her before she heard his reply.

* * * * *

Her back was on fire. How much time had passed? One hour? Two? Three?

The pain brought her around and she cried out, turning to get away from the heat burning her alive. Someone stopped her, pressing down until she stopped squirming.

“Shh…”

“Burns,” she moaned.

Streaks of searing pain kept moving, washing down her back and shoulders. And she thought she would die. Her lungs refused to draw air, her brain too busy processing shrieking sirens of alarm to remember the need to breathe.

“It’ll get infected if I don’t clean it. Bear with me for a few minutes, baby. I know it hurts.”

She wouldn’t survive the pain. It swallowed her whole, peeling away her skin until only raw, sensitive flesh lay open to air. Even then, the fire would burrow deep, eating at her until there was nothing left.

But it would take her from Him, wouldn’t it? That was a comfort at least.

She closed her eyes.

* * * * *

Tears moistened her face, dampening the pillow beneath. They might have been tears. Or maybe sweat. The room was hot. Buried beneath a comforter, she wondered briefly at the name given the instrument of her asphyxiation. She tried to push it away, turn her face toward the small gap of cool air sneaking in, but lacked the strength.

Her back ached, and the memory of fire made her gasp.

The bed moved, the comforter whisked out of her way. “Take these.” 44

Intimate Whispers

Gummy eyes refused to open, so she had no idea what these were or what he wanted her to do with them. The comforter kept her trapped, but she didn’t care. Sleep sounded so wonderful. Just a perfect place to cradle her head and spend an eternity.

Something rested on her lips. Her eyes wouldn’t open, but her mouth moved until the little dry discs slipped inside. Bitterness flooded her mouth, but hard glass pressed against her lips before she could protest. Delicious water, the best water she’d ever tasted in her life, slid down her throat, overflowing until it spilled onto her cheek and neck, but oh, the wonderful water.

“Slow, Sabrina. Sip it.”

Sip. Gulp. Drown.

Beautiful, miraculous water.

She would have drunk until she floated away, but it left before she was allowed that luxury.

Later, after she rested, she would taste more of the water, but for right now, she wanted to sleep. Just close her eyes and drift.

She did.

Some time later she awoke. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Maybe a few minutes. It could have been hours. Time meant nothing. He’d stopped hurting her and that was all that mattered.

A moist cloth touched down on her eyes, her mouth, her neck. She turned into it, following the movement as best she could without awakening the pain in her back.

“You’re awake.” Jason spoke softly, and although her headache thumped, it didn’t flare like before. Sabrina nodded, skeptical about the strength of her voice.

“Hungry?”

She nodded again, this time managing to open her eyes. He looked worried, and that made her smile. There hadn’t been anyone in her life close enough to be concerned about her welfare in a long time.

Sitting upright made her breath catch. Pain, not as sharp as before, coaxed a groan from her. He moved quickly, propping her against a pillow, careful with his actions.

Forced to slump forward to keep her back away from the rest, she let Jason position another pillow across her abdomen. He did it with a precision and efficiency that surprised her.

She followed his exit out of the room with her gaze, at once awed by his attention and ashamed he found her in this position. The sheets she lay upon had been changed, whatever blood that had ruined them no longer evident.