Falter Read online

  My stomach broke the silence, growling insistently. I picked up the soup and sipped from the side of the bowl. Drinking soup was strange for most people, but for me, it was habit—and would remind me of George when he was gone.

  The first time he showed me how to drink soup, I was young and my mouth was too little for the bowl. The soup leaked from around my lips and dripped down my chin. George laughed with delight and did the same to mock me, spilling his soup onto a thick beard. We giggled at our messes over a rare warm meal. Memories like that would forever stay with me.

  A small replica of a grandfather clock chimed from Gavyn’s bookshelf. It was only ten, but it felt like one in the morning. Fatigue settled over me when I saw the time as if my exhaustion was in sync with the clock. I listened for music coming from the jukebox in the café but couldn’t hear any. I figured Gavyn would be up soon.

  Not sure that I wanted to be awake when he came up, I set the bowl down and closed my eyes, forcing my body to relax. It just didn’t seem like the right time for us to talk about whatever was going on between us. And frankly, I didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

  I wanted to escape into a deep sleep and pretend nothing was out of the ordinary in my life, that all was well in my little reality. I pictured George happy and healthy, sitting with me in our usual alley. I pictured my life without voices and scary faces, and I imagined meeting Gavyn in another time and place as I fell asleep.

  I woke with a sudden jolt. The table lamp was off. Through hazy eyes, I scanned the dark room. My attention focused on the yellow, back-lit face of the grandfather clock across the apartment. The small pendulum swung back and forth, ticking with the passing seconds. It said 2:20 in the morning.

  Dammit.

  I rubbed my face and groaned, pissed that I could only get three or four hours of solid escape at a time. Not nearly enough.

  I leaned forward, listening intently to make sure George was still breathing. They were short, shallow breaths, but they were breaths nonetheless. Satisfied that he was still hanging on, I stretched myself out of the chair that had swallowed me during my nap and tottered toward the bathroom.

  I entered the hallway and noticed a light shining out into the hall from the cracked bathroom door. I smiled, mentally thanking Gavyn for leaving it on to guide me through the apartment at night. Slowly, I eased the door open and stepped inside.

  There he was.

  My pulse raced, and my breath quickened. I watched him step out of the tub and pull the shower curtain closed. He hadn’t realized I was in the room, yet. With his back toward me, he slid a black towel off of the rod next to him and dragged it over the wet ripples of his torso. My eyes drifted down to his toned ass which was incessantly begging me to go over and squeeze it.

  Billows of swirling steam dampened my face. The scent of him, freshly bathed, dampened other areas of my body.

  I was unable to move or find the courage to say something. Beads of water rode happily down his back, moistening the gullies between each muscle. His tempting body flexed as he wrapped the towel tight around his waist and tucked one end under the other at the front, hiding him from my hungry gaze.

  He turned, picked up a comb from the counter, and leaned in toward the mirror. The heel of his palm made a squeaking noise as it slid over the glass. His olive-green eyes lingered over the reflection of himself for a moment and then jetted up to meet my gaze.

  I gasped in surprise and quickly spun, setting into a speed-walk back towards the living room as I floundered with embarrassment. Not only had I completely invaded his privacy by staring at him like a lion ready to pounce on its prey, but I ran away, pretending he hadn’t noticed me salivating over him. I got about halfway down the hall when I heard his raspy, surprised voice behind me.

  “Nevaeh?”

  I pivoted around sheepishly, noting how good he looked with the towel draped around his gorgeous, sculpted hips. “Yeah?” My voice cracked.

  I knew there was no getting around what happened. God, why couldn’t he have put some pants and a shirt on before coming out after me? I averted my eyes as much as possible, but it was hard not to notice that his hair was still shiny and wet. His body glistened under the tiny droplets of water trailing over it. I was practically drooling at the sight of him.

  “Did you need something?” he asked.

  “Um, yeah, I needed to use the restroom…but I can wait.” Oh and, by the way, I need you too. I fidgeted, harnessing my urge to run from the humiliation.

  “Well, I’m finished in there. You can go in.”

  I darted my eyes to the ceiling, but not before seeing his enticing smile.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, folding his arms over the bunched muscles of his chest, still smirking as if he could read my thoughts.

  “Yep, just gotta pee.” I flinched at the comment that gave him more information than he needed to know.

  “It’s all yours.” He stepped away from the door, making room for me to pass, and bowed with a permitting outstretched hand. The towel slit opened at the side as he bent, exposing a thick upper thigh.

  I swallowed hard and walked to him. “I’m so sorry.” The guilt in my voice was obvious. “I didn’t mean to walk in on you…I thought you were in the bedroom.”

  His head bowed, his eyes gravitating to the floor in a moment of thought. He boyishly peeked up under his brow, gauging my reaction. “Did you mean to watch me?” Another slow, sexy grin pulled at his lips. The anticipation on his face satisfied me as I thought about the proper response.

  “Yes, but I’m sorry for that, too,” I answered shyly. No use in denying that it happened. He saw me.

  In one quick movement, Gavyn closed the gap between us, crashing our mouths together. That instant, I completely forgot everything except how much I enjoyed feeling his lips on mine. One of his hands grasped the side of my neck keeping me from resisting—not that I could manage such a thing—while his other hand scooped around the small of my back, forcing my small frame to succumb under his much larger frame. His grip tightened and lifted me up to my tippy toes. An unavoidable moan crept from my throat as he gently pushed me against the wall, trapping me in an envelope of heat. His warm lips brushed, inch by inch, from my mouth down to the nape of my neck, stopping only to tickle my skin with soft kisses. Moisture from his wet body soaked into my shirt, pasting the light fabric to my over-sensitive skin.

  Something inside me was tense and tingling with the need to get even closer to him. It begged for a more intimate connection. Touching him was not enough for the greedy animal in me. It wanted to swallow him in its passion. This feeling was way too intoxicating to stop.

  Is this what I’ve been missing? What a shame.

  A switch had flipped. I was ready to give in, to let him be the one to love me and take care of me. I was ready to love him, to trust him, and to be the object of his adoration.

  Gladly accepting these emotions, I wrapped my arms around his neck and fingered through his smooth, glossy hair. My fingers lightly grazed down the muscles on his shoulders and upper back. I couldn’t help but smile between kisses at the sweet goose bumps forming on his skin. With every deep, uncontrolled breath, I savored the cedar fragrance drifting from his skin.

  To my surprise, his hand drifted around my thigh and pulled my leg up to brace it around his waist. I felt what the towel was hiding, engorged between my thighs. My body reacted with my own kind of excitement at his arousal—slick and chaotic.

  He pulled his mouth away and licked his lips, staring tenderly at me.

  “What is it?” I asked, disappointed he’d stopped.

  “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, dropping his forehead and resting it on mine. His restrained grip eased my leg back down to the floor.

  “About what?” His chin was smooth and clean-shaven against my hand as I lifted his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. “I know what I’m doing. You’re not taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re worried about.” I glanced down the hall in the direc
tion of the living room and remembered the ill man sleeping there.

  My guilt reared its ugly head. I’d forgotten about George in the heat of it all. “Oh my God,” I breathed. “How careless of me.” My focus remained on the end of the hallway, not wanting to see the disapproval in Gavyn’s eyes. “I should be the one who is sorry. I just got so caught up with you and...” I could feel the shame reddening my cheeks, “this isn’t really a good time, I know.”

  “No, Nevaeh, it’s not that. I…,” his forehead creased with concern, “I have some stuff I think I need to tell you. It’s about what’s been going on with you.” He shook his head, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling with frustration. When his eyes returned to me, the lines on his face displayed his own shame and pleading, as if asking me for forgiveness. “I wasn’t sure if it was what I thought…and I’m still not sure, but there’s a possibility. If we’re going to be like this with each other,” he shuffled his hands back and forth between us, “I have to be honest with you.”

  “What are you talking about, Gavyn?” I chuckled nervously, confused by his vague admission.

  “Why don’t you check on George and let me get dressed. Come to my room when you’re done, and I’ll tell you all about my theory.” He brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and smiled. “Okay?”

  Unhappy that he wanted to get dressed, but glad that he seemed to have a theory, I nodded. He planted a sweet kiss on my forehead, then turned to enter his room.

  I headed into the bathroom to straighten myself up before checking on George. The motions between Gavyn and me replayed in my head like a slow, steamy movie as I ran my fingers through my hair and adjusted my damp shirt. My body tingled all over thinking about how he held me, how he kissed me.

  God, how he kissed me!

  A loud bang from the living room startled me, jerking me back to reality.

  George cried out to me, the pain in his voice alarming. I rushed out of the bathroom, yelled to Gavyn, and ran down the hallway. A sudden knot in my stomach told me I wouldn’t be prepared for what I might find when I reached George.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Death As You Know It

  I rushed into the living room. George was laying on the floor, wedged between the futon and the coffee table. A thin, red line of blood trickled down his temple. His shaky hand reached up, grabbed the edge of the table, and tried to lift himself off the ground. His weakened body slumped down, unable to muster enough strength.

  I ran to him and shoved the coffee table out of the way. Kneeling at his side, I saw a panic in his eyes that I’d never seen. George thrashed around, clutching the leg of the futon beside him while I fought to get him off the floor. Sheer terror strained his face as he focused on one spot on the wall across the room—a dark, blurry shadow.

  “George, look at me. You need to look at me,” I yelled over his distraught muttering. George glanced around the room, searching for someone who understood his wild ranting. I turned my head and noticed Gavyn lowering to his knees next to George’s head. My wide eyes gawked at Gavyn, begging for help, but he only looked past me—staring at the wall, too.

  “This isn’t how it’s supposed to end. That bastard lied!” George cried out. “He lied to me. He lied to me,” he repeated, over and over again.

  The peace I’d seen in George’s expression after Archard disappeared was gone now. His eyes were almost black, and his skin was so thin I could see every tiny vein forcing blood through his body.

  “They ain’t the right ones to take me. He lied. Get ‘em away. Don’t let ‘em take me,” he screamed, latching onto Gavyn’s arm as if he was about to be yanked from the room at any moment. Gavyn tried to calm him, but nothing seemed to help.

  I yelled over George’s senseless mumbling, demanding that he focus on me and concentrate. Again, I tugged on his arm, struggling with his heaviness and erratic movements. I glared at Gavyn for not helping me, but it didn’t matter. He just sat there, staring at the damn wall, engrossed by the same stupid shadow George was screaming about.

  Finally, I stopped pulling on George and watched the man who acted as my father for so long slip farther away from me. Tears began to pour down my cheeks like a faucet had opened. I couldn’t restrain the overwhelming emotions anymore. I slumped helplessly on the floor and waited for his end to come. Time seemed to stand still as I experienced the pain of losing George—deepening the grief unraveling in the pit of my stomach, prolonging that heartbreaking moment when I realized how close his death was. My heart pounded in my ears, muffling George’s words. I clutched my chest, trying to slow my rapid breathing.

  He shouldn’t leave the world like this. His death is supposed to happen quietly and peacefully, years from now.

  Gavyn’s hand moved to my thigh and lightly squeezed, drawing my attention to him.

  “You can’t see it?” Bewilderment settled across his face as he realized I had no idea what he was talking about.

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks, knowing more would only follow. “What are you talking about? See what?”

  He raised one of his hands and raked it through his hair. “I thought you were one of us. Are you sure you can’t see?” He looked so confused.

  I took two strained breaths, my chest too tight for them to be very deep. “Gavyn, I can’t do this right now. I don’t understand what you’re saying.” I shook my head, dismissing his nonsense. “We need to get him help. We have to get him back on the couch and call a doctor.” I tugged at George’s shoulders again with no avail.

  Gavyn grabbed my wrist tightly, holding me still. “Just stop,” he shouted. “I need you to focus. Let everything in your mind fade away, and focus on seeing what’s not there.” His gaze returned to the shadow on the corner. “Nevaeh, I know you are one of us. You have to be. I can feel your energy. You just have to open your eyes.” He let go of my arm and slowly pushed himself up.

  I chuckled deliriously at his words until I realized none of this was a joke. He was serious.

  “Nevaeh, open your eyes. Now!” he commanded me in a low urgent voice.

  “They are open, dammit!” I squealed back, stunned that he was repeating the same phrase I was forced to write in the bathroom only nights before.

  “Spiritually—not literally.”

  Rising up next to him, I wiped more tears away with the heels of my hands and took a deep breath. I directed my attention to the corner and tried to focus on the shadow. It felt completely stupid and inappropriate at such a time, but if that was what it would take to get Gavyn to help me with George, then I’d do it.

  I attempted to clear my mind, which seemed unfathomable. Surprisingly, though, the blob of darkness began to waver in its shape. It began to reach a solid black tendril out across the wall, stretching its dark limb onto the floor. Inch by inch, it slithered towards George.

  Stunned, my mouth gaped open. My soppy eyes followed the phantom’s movement across the hardwoods.

  “No, No…Get me away from it,” George pleaded in terror, breaking my concentration.

  I jerked back to coherence, realizing how close the thing was getting to George. “I can’t do this! Help me get him out of here, please,” I begged Gavyn.

  “They will come no matter where he is. We can’t stop them. Now focus!” he demanded again.

  I closed my eyes and cupped my ears to muffle the sound of George’s whimpering. Numbness spread through my heart, deadening the too soft emotions I had exposed. When I was ready, I opened my eyes.

  A red glow radiated from the corner. It illuminated the entire room. The light ebbed and flowed in its intensity. Tinges of orange and yellow flickered through the red like electric currents. I looked at Gavyn in disbelief.

  He nodded, knowing that I now saw what he saw.

  An awful odor filled the room, smacking me in the face as my awareness of this alternate reality grew. I gagged and leaned over the table, my fingers curling tight around the edges, trying to get my bearings. My stomach swam with waves of naus
ea.

  Gavyn stepped closer and clasped my hand in his, raising me out of my bent position. His presence calmed me, unexplainably relieving the nausea and dizziness I felt.

  “They are coming. You need to focus just a little longer.” The sympathy lingering in his voice did little to release the coil of dread twisting in my gut.

  “What is this? Who’s coming?”

  “I can’t explain it right now. You have to be ready for what’s about to happen. Whatever you see, understand that I can’t do anything to change it, and if I could, I would.”

  My fear and worry heightened to a new level as he spoke. He let me go then knelt back down, placing one hand on George’s chest, and whispered, “I’m sorry, friend. I can’t keep this from happening. All I have to offer is a little comfort while we wait.”

  George looked at him gratefully and relaxed against the hard floor. Instant peace smoothed the creases of terror contorting his features. “Thank you,” he muttered to Gavyn with relief. He reached a tired hand out to me, and I gladly took it. “I love you, Nevaeh, no matter what you choose.”

  George closed his eyes and exhaled a soft, shallow breath. His last breath.

  Gavyn removed his hand from George’s chest and leaned back on his heels. I couldn’t move. The shock of everything was too overwhelming.

  George was dead.

  I barely felt my knees hit the floor when I fell beside his limp body. I latched onto his hand, my knuckles turning white, my thumb mindlessly rubbing back and forth over the smooth band of gold encircling his left ring finger.

  Loud screeches and moans echoed from the center of the red glow, diverting our attention from George. The wall appeared to weaken and stretch against something pushing from behind it. The plaster groaned and creaked as it bent around what looked like the shape of a long leg pressing out from the other side. A torso and two arms appeared above the leg, straining to break through. The figure shoved and pushed violently, determined to puncture the barrier keeping it wherever it was, manipulating the wall as if it were nothing more than a thin sheet of latex.