“So, what are you doing here, anyway?” he asks.
“I live here,” I answer, in a laid-back voice. He almost chokes and some beer dribbles down his chin. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.
“He invited you to stay?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes.” I tilt my chin defiantly, irritated.
“What a pussy,” he laughs. “Oh well, that’s your business I suppose.” He eyes me over the top of his bottle as he takes another swig.
“What?” I snap. The way he is looking at me is disconcerting, like a cat would look at a mouse.
“Seeing as we're going to be living together,” he begins, a sexy smile spreading over his face.
“Don’t even think about it,” I huff, putting his bottle in the dustbin. “It’s never going to happen.”
“Okay,” he sounds almost bored and he stands, picking up the car-keys from the counter.
“Where are you going?” I ask in alarm.
“Out,” he replies bluntly, grabbing a coat from the rack by the door.
“I’m coming with you,” I grab my own coat and make to follow him, but he stands in the doorway and turns to face me, blocking my way.
“No, you're not.” There is a finality to his tone that makes me nervous.
“I am,” I insist, refusing to back down. He is not going anywhere with Adam’s body, not without me.
“You can't stop me, sweetheart; I’m not Adam. You keep forgetting that. I’m not going to sit here and drink tea with you, make small talk and watch Dancing with the Stars. I'm going out. There's a very sexy young blonde waitressing at the Café Grill down the block and I ain’t wasting any time.”
“You can’t do that,” I plead. “Think about Adam, Kyle. Please. It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart,” he drawls. “And I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head too much about Adam. That girl has an ass like Jessica Alba and a rack like a two dollar whore. Believe me, Adam is not going to be complaining.”
It’s a knee-jerk reaction that I regret instantly, but my hand flies forward of its own accord and connects with his cheek in a resounding slap. Kyle touches his hand to his cheek, his eyes widening in astonishment which immediately turns to rage. I know that I have gone too far; Kyle has completely lost his fragile control of his temper. I brace myself as his arm comes up and I shut my eyes, cowering in genuine fear. This is going to hurt.
“No!” he howls and then there is silence. I open one eye and see him standing above me, staring in disbelief at his own hand, which is hanging in mid-air. He is panting slightly, as though with exertion, and as I stare up at him, Adam looks down and meets my gaze.
“Paige?” he asks, stumbling slightly. He is confused and completely disoriented,
“Adam!” I grab onto him and bury my face in his chest, trying to gain control of my fear and swallow the tears that are threatening to overflow. I take a minute and then I drape his arm over my shoulder and lead him to the dining-room table. He is very pale and a sheen of sweat is shining on his forehead. I sit opposite him, taking his hands.
“Adam,” I make sure I have his full attention. “Adam, how did you do that?”
“What did I do?” he looks terrified and I don’t answer immediately; I am thinking, wondering how it is possible. “Paige!” he is frantic. “What did I do? Did I hit you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I squeeze his hands reassuringly. “You did nothing. He did nothing,” I clarify. “But you did. You broke through, Adam! You stopped him from hurting me.” I am grinning even though my head is still spinning trying to make sense of it all.
“We need to speak to the doc.” I get up and rummage in my bag for my phone. I am busy dialling when I notice that Adam hasn’t moved and he is not looking half as happy as he should.
“Adam?” I ask, my hands pausing in the act of dialling. He doesn’t answer and I clear the screen and set the phone down on the table. I sit back down and take his hands.
“Adam, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning in disbelief. “What’s wrong, Paige? What the hell do you think is wrong? He was going to hurt you!”
“Well, yeah,” I shrug, “but he didn’t. You made sure of that.”
“He is such an asshole!” Adam runs his hands through his black curls in frustration. “I want him out of my head!”
“Hey, hey!” I rub his arm, trying to soothe him. “He’s not that bad. I kind of provoked him. And I don’t think it was a conscious thing, he just reacted instinctively. I mean, sure, he’s an asshole, but it’s not like he’s dangerous or anything.”
He stares up at me, hollow-eyed.
“What did he react to?”
“Oh,” I look down at the floor, “I um, well I may have...” I trail off trying to think of a way to say it without freaking Adam out, but I can’t so I just get to the point, “I slapped him.”
“You what?” he asks, then, looking thoughtful, he lifts his hand to his cheek and rubs his jaw. “Oh.” He looks torn between pride and consternation. “Paige!”
“I know, I know,” I hold my hands up in mock surrender, “I shouldn’t have done it. Believe me, I know that,” I roll my eyes. “He’s just so frustrating." I click my tongue in annoyance and Adam smiles slightly. Relief washes over me that his brief bout of self-persecution has passed. I stare at his face, so familiar and so strange at the same time. I never know what to expect of this face. I run my hand over it and ruffle his black hair. His eyes, reflecting the light from the window, are almost turquoise.
“Come here,” he kisses the inside of my wrist and pulls me to my feet. He cups my face in his hands and kisses my eyes, my nose and my mouth. I moan when he pulls away and he chuckles.
“It’s getting late, Miss Petrova,” he grins, “I think we should get you to bed.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I laugh, unbuttoning my top button. He lunges for me as I turn and scarper down the passage into the bedroom.
I cannot fall asleep. I lie naked with my head on Adam’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, my leg slung across his body and a million thoughts swirling in my head. I heave a sigh and gently extricate my arm from under his body, slipping from the sheets and pulling his T-shirt – the only item of clothing that I can find, groping around in the dark – over my head. I slip my feet into my slippers and make my way to the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of water straight from the faucet and stand at the sink, gazing out of the window at the view of the city. I turn the cold water tap back on and wet my fingers, running them over the back of my neck. I feel exhausted. Maybe tomorrow I should ask Doctor Sheldon for some sleeping pills.
“Paige?” I turn to find him standing in the doorway, a towel draped around his hips. I catch my breath at the sight of him. He is truly astounding, his perfect sculpted torso and his strong arms are almost painful to look at. “Are you okay?” he asks, yawning widely, showing his perfectly even white teeth.
“Fine,” I smile weakly and he raises his eyebrow.
“What is it?” he asks, taking a few steps forward. I cannot bear to look him in the eye for what I am about to say and I turn quickly back to the window. He moves up behind me and his arms come around me, pulling me back against his warm body. I sigh and drop my head back onto his shoulder. His hand slips under the T-shirt and moves up to cup my breast and I groan.
“Adam,” my voice breaks and I start again, “Adam,” I'm relieved that I sound a bit stronger.
“Hmm?” he murmurs into my ear, his lips at my neck. I take a deep breath.
“Adam, I'm going to sleep with him.”
“What?” He jumps back as though he has just stepped on a rattlesnake. The towel slips and he grabs it, securing it more tightly around his body as he eyes me in disbelief.
“What are you talking about?”
“Kyle,” I answer, nodding my head, “I'm going to sleep with Kyle.”
I expect his bellow of refusal and I let hi
m rage on. I don’t blame him but I have given this a lot of thought and my mind is made up.
“Are you insane?” he asks, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
“Adam,” I turn to face him and place my hands on either side of his face. “Kyle is very sexual.” I ignore his grimace of disgust. “He is going to have sex; with or without us. It’s just who he is. Unfortunately.” I take a deep breath, barely able to believe what I am saying myself. I frown, hating that I am the cause of the anguish that is so visible on his beautiful face.
“I love you,” I say and he barely seems to notice. I try again. “I love you, Adam Parker. More than I ever thought possible.” Tears well in my eyes and he takes hold of my shoulders, his fingers biting into me. I can feel the depth of his despair and it breaks my heart but it gives me the strength I need to go on. “I will not let him use your body, Adam. It belongs to you.” He shakes his head.
“No, it belongs to you,” he corrects, breathing out slowly, trying not to give in to his obvious emotions and I smile encouragingly.
“Even better. It belongs to me. So I'm the only person that will be having sex with this body.” He grimaces again and I pull him down onto the couch, sitting down beside him.
“Think about it, Adam. What if he goes off and gets you infected with some disease? Kyle hardly strikes me as the selective type. And what if he goes off and gets some stranger pregnant? I can’t be with him all the time. If he goes off on some booty call he'll leave me behind. We have no idea the trouble he could get you into. We cannot risk your life like that.”
“But I don’t want you having sex with him.” Adam sounds as forlorn as a child and I put my arms around him, drawing his face toward me until our noses are touching.
“I know you don’t. But I don’t want you having sex with anyone else,” I murmur and he shuts his eyes. He cannot argue with my logic. As awful as it is, it boils down to this: Either I have sex with Kyle in Adam’s body or Adam’s body will be having sex with a bunch of strangers. There is no contest, we have no other choice. Adam knows this, I know this. The question remains to be seen whether we can survive it. I wait until he finally gives in to his exhaustion and only when I am sure that he is asleep do I give way to the tears.
I have made my decision. I will be whatever he needs me to be. I will be a lover for Kyle, a mother for Jacob. I will be whatever Simon needs me to be. And above all else I will be the love of Adam’s life. He is a complex person and I have to help him I don’t have a choice. I love Adam Parker. All of him.
Chapter 11
“I know it’s frustrating, Paige,” Carl Sheldon sympathises and I want to slap him. He has no idea. Christmas is in three days' time and still, we are getting nowhere. I have not seen any of the alters and while this should be a relief, it is not. How can we work through Adam’s problems if we don’t know what they are? Adam has signed a full proxy, curatorship and guardianship over to me. I am in full control of his life and at the moment I feel like a colossal failure.
“You must understand that I can only work with what Adam brings to the session,” the doctor continues, “and thus far Adam is bringing Adam. We are limited.”
“What about hypnosis?” I counter. “You said its part of the therapy. Why can’t we hypnotise him and force the others to appear?”
“We could, but what would we do with them once we have them present? They need to relive the trauma. We don’t know what that is. You said you want me to work on integrating Kyle first. Kyle will not divulge the trauma that brought about his existence. He has told me, categorically, that it is Adam’s business and Adam doesn’t remember. So we're back to square one.”
“Why do you think he’s keeping it to himself?” I ask, momentarily roused from my frustration. “Do you think he really respects Adam enough to respect his privacy?”
“Not at all,” Dr Sheldon smiles. “I think it has far more to do with his own self-preservation.” I shake my head to indicate that I am not following and he continues. “Kyle knows what we plan to do. He knows that if we can adequately resolve the trauma that resulted in his creation then his personality would likely integrate and disappear.” I nod. That makes sense. Kyle would hardly want to help bring about the end of his own existence.
“Damn it!” I stamp my foot and then blush in embarrassment for my childish behaviour. “Sorry,” I mutter, pacing up and down.
“What about Mr Morris? Any luck there?” he probes and I shake my head.
“He said it may take some time before any headway is made given the complexity of the situation,” I answer. I hired Bill Morris, a renowned private investigator, last week; the day after I made my decision about Kyle. He's going to dig up as much information as possible about Adam’s childhood.
“Okay.” Carl purses his lips in thought. “Paige, is there any particular reason that you want to focus on integrating Kyle first?” he asks and I struggle to meet his eyes. I obviously want Kyle gone the first chance we get. As much as I have made my decision, I do not relish the thought of a physical relationship with that pig.
“I just feel that he's the most dangerous,” I say, matter-of-factly. “He could get Adam into trouble and he is a higher risk than the others. He can’t be controlled.” Carl smiles slightly.
“No, he can’t,” he agrees and I blush again.
“Why do you ask?” I change the subject and he draws himself up.
“Yes. Well, the thing is, Kyle will not tell us anything, but perhaps Simon or Jacob might. If Adam is willing to undergo the hypnosis, we can try and get some information out of them. Be warned, though,” he continues quickly, reacting to my obvious enthusiasm for this idea, “it can be a very traumatic process. It is also likely to unsettle and destabilise Adam which could very well bring the other three to the fore.” I blink in confusion. “We might see a lot less of Adam and a lot more of the others following the treatment,” he explains and I am completely taken aback, my initial enthusiasm waning. Do I want to bring Kyle out? The obvious answer is a resounding No! But if this is the only way to make any progress...I take a moment to consider and then I nod my head.
“Let’s do it,” I say and Carl nods his approval. “But I want to be there. I want to speak to him myself. I think I may be able to break through.”
Carl looks as though he is about to argue and then a resigned look crosses his face.
“Jacob?” he asks, with a sigh.
“Jacob,” I nod. If Jacob is the secret-keeper then he is the one I need.
Three days later I wake up and it is snowing; the experts got it right after all. I am alone in our bed but I can hear Adam moving around in the kitchen, so I burrow back under the covers and enjoy a few minutes of privacy to think. I miss my dad. There has not been a single Christmas since I was a little girl that I have not seen him on Christmas day. I had thought about flying back but our first hypnosis session is booked for two days time on the 27th and I want to be there. I wonder idly if Frank might go and visit him today, and, as if on cue, my mobile phone starts ringing. It’s my mom’s number displayed on the caller ID.
“Merry Christmas, Mom!” I sing into the receiver as I answer.
“Merry Christmas, love!” she sounds quite animated and I am pleasantly surprised, “what are you up to today?” she asks and I grin.
“I just woke up, Mom, it's only 7 a.m. here, remember?”
“Oh, yes, yes, I keep forgetting,” she clucks and I smile fondly.
“How’s the turkey?” I ask, feeling a pang of sadness. I love our traditional family Christmas roast. It is one of my favourite days of the year, and this is the first year that I won’t be there. My mother obviously feels similarly if her next words are anything to go by.
“It’s in the oven now, smells heavenly,” there is a pause that is loaded with meaning, and then, “such a pity you aren’t here to enjoy it with us.”
“Mom,” I sigh, “we’ve discussed this. You know I would be there if I could, but this is important. You know th
at.”
“Yes well, he better prove himself worthy of you, Paige,” she declares, in a rare moment of support. I smile sadly, but feel surprisingly warm and fuzzy inside.
“Thanks Mom, I love you.”
“Yes, well, here’s Frank,” she utters briskly. Okay; tender moment over.
I spend a few minutes wishing Frank and the girls “Merry Christmas” and then I hang up. I suppose I had better get up and dressed, so I hop into the shower and ten minutes later I head down the passage to the kitchen.
“You’re up!” dam calls, sounding delighted. I walk straight into his open arms and he squeezes me tightly. “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear, “I hope you brought your appetite!” I pinch a mushroom from the sizzling pan and he slaps my hand away, laughing, before depositing a steaming cup of coffee in my hands.
“Mmm,” I murmur, blowing on the hot liquid, trying to cool it down. Adam regards me fondly before holding up one finger.
“Wait right here,” he instructs and then he disappears down the passage.
I flip through this morning’s paper finding nothing really interesting except for an article about a group of daredevils who had bungee-jumped off the Manhattan Bridge. Police were looking for any witnesses to the crime. I wonder idly how they did it, wishing it was legal. It sounds like something that would scare the wits out of me; just what I need right now.
“Which hand?” Adam has returned and I glance up from the paper to find him standing before me, both arms outstretched and his hands balled into fists.
I narrow my eyes at him and then I examine each hand, trying to work out if either one looks like it could be holding something. After a moment's consideration I realise there are no tell-tale clues and I laugh.
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