Every Touch

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Every Touch Page 23

by Parke, Nerika


  Laila froze, hand about to remove the tape from the door latch. She turned slowly around to look behind her.

  “What are you doing?” Kelly repeated, her hands on her hips.

  Laila glanced at the door then at her sister.

  “Nothing,” she said, suddenly feeling like a guilty child.

  How had Kelly found her? The cold bag, only separated from her body by her thin t-shirt, made her shiver involuntarily.

  Kelly narrowed her eyes. She looked down at Laila’s torso.

  “What are you hiding?” she said.

  “I’m not a child, Kelly, and you aren’t the police.”

  She ripped the tape from the door and it clicked shut.

  “Damn it, Lai, when are you going to realise I’m on your side?”

  At that moment, Laila spotted the lab technician over Kelly’s shoulder, walking towards them. She turned away quickly, searching for somewhere to hide before he saw her. She spotted a door in the hallway wall on her left with the symbol for a ladies toilet. She headed for it, not waiting to see what her sister would do.

  What she did do was follow her into the toilet, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it.

  The small room contained a toilet, a basin and a large metal pedal operated bin. It was big enough for a wheelchair to get into, but still didn’t feel large enough to Laila for her and her sister.

  “Can’t you just leave me alone?” she hissed, not wanting anyone outside to hear.

  “What were you doing in the blood bank?” Kelly said, also keeping her voice low.

  Laila tightened her arms around herself, feeling the cold bag of Trish’s blood press against her stomach. “Are you following me?”

  “I saw your car outside and came to find you. I thought you’d come here to see me. I thought something was wrong.”

  Kelly’s accusatory stare made Laila step back. She felt the basin press against her lower back.

  “Please, just let me leave. You don’t need to know what’s going on.” It was a vain effort. She knew Kelly wouldn’t simply let her go.

  “This is my hospital. Of course I need to know what you’re doing.”

  “Oh Kelly, you just work here.” She couldn’t prevent the fear induced irritation from creeping into her tone. “You don’t own the place.”

  It was the wrong thing to say.

  Kelly frowned.

  “What are you hiding under there?” she demanded, her voice becoming louder.

  Laila glanced at the door anxiously.

  “Show me.”

  Fear, frustration and anger caused Laila to snap. “For once in your life, stop being such an interfering bitch!”

  Kelly gasped, her eyes widening then narrowing. She lunged forward and grabbed Laila’s arms, pulling them away from her torso and jerking her body. The cold bag came loose and slid from under her hoodie. It hit the floor with a wet sounding slap.

  Kelly stepped back instinctively, still holding onto Laila’s arms, pulling her forward. Laila stumbled, her right foot stepping forward automatically to keep her balance and coming down hard onto the bag.

  With a small pop, it burst.

  Blood flowed out over the tiled floor.

  “No!” Laila gasped, dropping to her knees and grabbing the bag. Not even half the blood remained inside. She stared helplessly at the rest oozing along the grout lines and between the dimples of the beige ceramic tiles.

  Sitting back on her heels, tears rose to her eyes. She’d failed. She had been so close and she’d failed. What was the line? Snatching failure from the jaws of victory? This had been the only way she and Denny could be certain of having everything they needed for the ritual. Now, nothing was certain. Now they would need both Trish and Kelly’s help and neither of them could be guaranteed.

  She looked up at her sister, tears streaking her face. Kelly was standing with her mouth open, shock etched onto her features.

  “What... whose... why...?”

  The thought came to Laila that this could be the first time she’d ever seen Kelly speechless. She would have laughed if she didn’t feel so utterly hopeless.

  Dragging herself to her feet, she used the pedal on the clinical waste bin to open it, tossing in the mostly empty blood bag. Then, grabbing handfuls of toilet paper, she began mopping up the rest of the blood from the floor and throwing it into the toilet. Kelly stared at her in stunned silence.

  When Laila had finished cleaning the floor and washed her hands, she grabbed Kelly’s arm roughly.

  “You want to know what’s going on?” she said, her voice harsh. “Come on then.”

  The corridor outside the toilet was empty, for which Laila was grateful, and she marched Kelly to the stairs and down to the main foyer, through the doors and out to the car park. It was then that her sister finally found her voice.

  “Hold on,” she said, pulling her arm from Laila’s grasp and stopping. “Where are we going? I need an explanation.” She ran her hand distractedly over her blonde hair which was pulled into a bun. “This is insane.”

  “We’re going to my flat. You will get your explanation there.”

  “But... that blood. You stole that blood.”

  “Yes, and I had a very good reason, but you ruined everything. So unless you’re going to turn me in, come on.”

  She turned and walked away, hoping desperately that Kelly was following and not running back inside to have her arrested. After a few steps she heard footsteps run up and fall in beside her.

  “This had better be good,” Kelly said.

  They drove in convoy back to the flat, taking their respective cars. Kelly didn’t speak at all as they rode up in the lift. Laila’s emotions had gone from shock to anger to misery to desperation on the way home. They had now settled on fear fused with despair.

  She couldn’t imagine how her sister was going to react to Denny, but there was no option now other than to introduce them. Kelly’s meddling could cost her everything, might have done so already. Plus, they needed her. Assuming they could convince Trish to give her blood, they needed Kelly’s medical skills to take it.

  She was about to introduce her sister to her ghost boyfriend. It sounded like an eighties sitcom storyline.

  Opening the door to the flat, she stepped in ahead of Kelly and looked around.

  “Denny?”

  A body rushed into her, almost knocking her from her feet. Denny grabbed her and held her against him. His face pressed against her neck, his lips moving against her skin as he spoke. Not caring what Kelly saw, Laila gave in, crumpled into his arms and cried.

  *

  By the time Laila got home, Denny was surprised he hadn’t worn a channel in the floor where he’d been pacing. Not knowing what was happening and not being able to help was almost more than he could bear. He’d received a text from Laila after she had convinced Jack to help telling him she was going to the blood bank at the hospital, but that was the last he’d heard. Anything could have happened to her and he wouldn’t have known.

  When she finally came through the door and called his name all he could do was grab onto her and tell her he loved her. Then she started crying and he felt like the ground had collapsed beneath his feet. Something had happened to make her cry and he hadn’t been there to protect her. He never wanted to let her go again.

  And then he saw Kelly walk through the door which was the last thing he expected. Laila must have felt him stiffen because she looked up.

  He was staring at Kelly.

  Kelly was staring at Laila.

  “I failed,” Laila said.

  Denny looked down at her.

  “I had Trish’s blood and I lost it. I’m so sorry.”

  He kissed her forehead and tightened his hold on her.

  “It’s alright,” he said against her skin. “Don’t cry. It’ll be alright.”

  She held onto him, her hands clutching his shirt in the way that always made his heart skip beats. Her head leaned against his chest.

&nb
sp; “Laila, who are you talking to?”

  Kelly was looking at her sister as if she had completely lost her mind. Denny tried to imagine the scene from her point of view. The sight of Laila hugging the air must have been quite bizarre.

  He felt Laila take a deep breath and pull away from him and she turned to look at Kelly.

  “You wanted to know what was going on, this is it. Kelly, meet my boyfriend, Denny Carpenter.”

  Denny’s eyes widened. He looked from Laila to Kelly, the sudden introduction taking him completely off guard.

  Distressed sympathy filled Kelly’s face. “Oh Laila. Honey, there’s no-one...”

  Trusting that Laila knew what she was doing, Denny placed his hand on Kelly’s shoulder. She shrieked and recoiled away from him.

  “What the hell was that?!”

  He glanced at Laila and grinned as she tried to hide her smile. He could imagine how good this vindication felt after weeks of having her sister think she was nuts.

  “That was Denny. You were right, he is dead. He is also a ghost.”

  “Wha...?” Kelly’s eyes were darting around the room. “I can’t see anything.”

  “You can’t see or hear him. You can only feel him. Hold your hand out.”

  “I... no... this is insane...”

  “Please Kelly, just trust me this time.”

  Kelly looked at Laila and Denny suddenly saw the love in her eyes for her little sister. He felt bad for how angry he’d been at her. She had only been trying to do what she thought was right for Laila.

  She extended a trembling hand. He gently took hold of it.

  “Please don’t freak out,” he said.

  She looked at her hand. “I can feel a hand,” she said, sounding terrified and awed at the same time. “A man’s hand.”

  “Yes,” Laila said, “and there’s a whole man attached to it too.”

  Kelly lifted her free hand and hesitantly laid it on his forearm. She began to move up his arm, patting and sliding her way up his bicep to his shoulder then onto his chest where it changed direction and began to head south. He watched it move with increasing apprehension, wondering how far it was going to go.

  “Um, Kel,” Laila said, “you’re feeling up my boyfriend.”

  Denny laughed as Kelly gasped and pulled both hands away from him.

  “Uh, sorry,” she said, blushing. “Can you tell him I’m sorry?”

  “He can hear and see us,” Laila said with a smile, “we just can’t hear or see him.”

  “Oh. Right. Um. Sorry.” She glanced in his general direction briefly.

  Denny reached out and patted her shoulder. She flinched.

  “You look like you need to sit down,” Laila said.

  Kelly nodded rapidly and Laila took her to the sofa while Denny fetched a glass of water. All things considered, he thought it was going relatively well. She wasn’t running or screaming or calling for the nearest exorcist. Those could only be good signs.

  He carried the water to where they were sitting and held it out towards Kelly. Several long seconds of staring at the glass hanging in the air in front of her followed before she took it, muttering a quiet, “Thank you.”

  Denny smiled and sat on the sofa on the other side of Laila from Kelly. She was angled toward her sister and he nestled in close against her back, taking her right hand in his, sliding his left hand around her waist and kissing the side of her neck. He felt a strong need to hold her safe in his arms. If it was practical, he would have kept her there forever.

  She turned towards him, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t want us to have to go to Trish.”

  He kissed her again and kept his lips against her skin as he spoke.

  “It’s alright. We’ll be okay.”

  While Kelly drank her water and watched, Laila filled Denny in on what had happened at the hospital. The more she told him, the bigger his smile became. If it hadn’t been for Kelly, she would have done it. They actually had a chance at this. He was beginning to think his girlfriend could do anything.

  When she had finished, Kelly spoke.

  “So what do you need the blood for? Does he drink it or something?”

  Both Denny and Laila burst into laughter.

  “He’s not a vampire, Kel,” Laila said.

  “Well, I don’t know, do I? I’m new to all this ghost stuff.”

  Laila suddenly leaned forward and hugged Kelly to her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For not freaking out.”

  For the first time since she’d got there, Kelly smiled. “Don’t get too excited. I still might.”

  Laila spent the next half an hour telling Kelly all about Denny and their life together. She told her about who he was, how he died, about his intervention with Avery. She told her about their relationship, how much they loved each other and how close they were. She told her about Oliver and the fading. And she told her about Crystal and the ritual.

  Through it all, Denny had his arms around her, relaxing back on the sofa as she leaned against him. It was strange, being able to openly touch her in front of someone, but it felt good. He knew how difficult it had been for Laila, hiding her feelings for him from her sister, more difficult than she had let on. But he knew. The relief of being able to let it all out was obvious in the way she spoke.

  As she finished, he watched Kelly carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to everything she’d just heard. Every bizarre, unbelievable, ridiculous-sounding thing. It was a lot to take on board, he knew.

  “I have two questions,” Kelly said after sitting for a while in silence.

  “What are they?”

  “Not for you,” she pointed beyond Laila to where Denny was sitting, “for him.”

  He shifted and she sat up. Taking the pad and pen from the coffee table in front of her, Laila passed them to him.

  He wrote briefly, then held the pad up for Kelly to see.

  Go ahead.

  She nodded. “First, would you ever put my sister in danger?”

  NEVER. I would do anything to keep her safe.

  “And yet, you sent her to steal blood from the blood bank. She could have been arrested.”

  “Actually, that was my idea,” Laila said. “Denny begged me not to go. I wouldn’t listen.”

  Kelly smiled slightly. “Good. If you’re going to start doing stupid things, you need someone to look out for you.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Second, I know Laila’s told me you love her, but I want to hear it from you. How do you really feel about her?”

  He paused before writing his answer, gathering his thoughts. His feelings for Laila were so deep, so profound, so beyond his understanding, that he wasn’t sure how to put them into words.

  I never knew what it was to really be alive, even when I was living, until I met Laila. I didn’t know what it meant to be happy until she took my hand the first time. I am a better man because of her. My heart belongs to her in a way it has never belonged to anyone else. The words don’t exist to tell you how much she means to me. I would do anything for her. I love her with all my heart and soul.

  He heard Laila’s gasp as she read his words and she felt for his hand, grasping it and closing her eyes as tears seeped through her lashes.

  “Oh Denny,” she whispered.

  He wrapped her in his arms and leaned his head against hers.

  Movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Kelly wiping tears from her face.

  “Tell me how I can help,” she said, smiling.

  Thirty-Nine

  The next day, the weather made one of its crazy u-turns and went from pleasantly not-too-cool to startlingly far-too-hot. Everywhere, jackets came off and shorts went on. In some cases, shirts came off of men who really should have kept them on.

  A man walked towards Laila on the street with his gut spilling over the top of his beige cargo shorts and we
aring sandals. With socks. Laila tore her horrified stare from him before he got the wrong idea.

  It had been a long day at the library. The air conditioning, which struggled at the best of times to keep up with hot weather, had simply given up and broken down. It was going to take the engineers three days to come and fix it and she was working all three days. She was sweaty and uncomfortable, her dress soaked and her hair plastered to her forehead. The building was like an oven.

  She’d lost count of the number of times she’d said, “Yes, it is hot in here.”

  All she could think of was getting home and showering away the whole sticky day. She walked home quickly, unconcerned with how much sweatier she was getting. Cleanliness was just a ten minute walk away, eight if she hurried.

  Reaching home, she closed the door behind her and dropped her bag onto the kitchen island. The windows were open, allowing a breeze to waft through the flat. It wasn’t a very cool breeze, but it was a breeze nonetheless. Laila closed her eyes, enjoying the soft touch of the air drifting over her.

  She felt a hand take hers.

  “Don’t come near me,” she warned, “the AC broke down at work. I’m a sweaty, stinky mess. I am in dire of need a shower.”

  Denny lifted her hand and she smiled as his lips pressed to her knuckles. Not letting go, he pulled her through the bedroom and into the bathroom and dropped her hand. Seconds later, she felt the zip on the back of her dress slide down. The swelter induced lethargy of the last eight hours was forgotten as her body tingled with a whole different kind of heat.

  The dress was pushed from her shoulders and she gave a shimmy to help its journey to her ankles. Warm lips kissed the back of her neck while a soft touch unhooked her bra and sent it to join her dress. She felt the band holding her ponytail being pulled off. Her hair failed to drop sexily onto her shoulders as the sweat held it in place more effectively than hair gel. As Denny’s fingers brushed down her back and hooked into the lacy edges of her panties, she became too turned on to bother about what she looked like. Despite the heat, she shivered as her underwear slid down her legs.

  The shower enclosure door opened and a hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her in. She felt Denny walk in behind her, the bare skin of his chest just touching her back. She had no idea when he had undressed. She didn’t really care.

 

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