He went to the other stool at the bar and had a seat. “What does your father think about your job?”
A nervous stitch caught in her belly. “Wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Years?” He appeared genuinely surprised. “Can I ask what happened?”
She clasped her hands together and placed them on the bar, feeling that knot in her stomach tighten. “I tried to go to him with a problem once. Something distressing happened to me when I was in college. I wanted his advice on what to do. He called me a worthless daughter and never wanted to speak to me again. So, I moved out of my parents’ house and into the dorm. To finish my degree, I took out loans and borrowed money from my mother’s late sister, Aunt Gertie.”
“Why did Aunt Gertie give you money and not your mother?”
“Because Aunt Gertie hated my father and wasn’t afraid of him like my mother. Gertie was a devout Bohemian, who painted nudes of men half her age—and slept with them, too. She was the only member of my family I truly admired. She encouraged me to travel and find myself.”
Doug took a moment to digest her statement. “So what happened to you in college that caused the rift with your father?”
She searched his face. Did he want to know, or was he just milking her for information? Careful, Sam. Don’t let him know the truth. She stood from her stool, wishing she had not shared so much, but still yearning to tell him more.
“Thank you for breakfast.” She stood back and hoped he would take the hint to leave. If he stayed any longer, she feared what would come out of her mouth next.
Nodding in understanding, he stood from his stool. “I would like to do this again. I meant it when I said I wanted to get to know you.”
“Do you want to get to know me as a submissive or as a friend, Doug?”
He blew out a long breath, sounding stuck on the fence by the question. “I think we should start as friends and see where it goes.”
“I would like that.”
“Good. It means I haven’t scared you away … yet.”
Sam suppressed a chuckle. “Perhaps I will be the one to scare you away.”
“I doubt that.” He gave her one last killer smile and headed to her front door. “Lock the door behind me, Sam,” he called over his shoulder.
After she had set the dead bolt, Sam went back to her stool and stretched for the plate with the omelet. Getting comfortable, she began to eat her breakfast. Just as she was beginning to relax, the tapping began.
It always happened in the same spot, the far wall of her living room. She wondered if it was Doug toying with her, but the noise had been going on since long before the attractive man had taken up residence next door.
“Go away,” she said to the wall, but the tapping continued.
She sensed fear, pain, and a female presence, but that was all. Since moving into The Shallows, Sam had experienced so many ghosts she’d learned to ignore them, but this one had persisted. As if someone was trying desperately to be heard. But who?
Eventually, the tapping died away, and Sam returned her thoughts to the mysterious man next door. Of all the things he had told her, the fact that he was a Dominant intrigued her the most. Perhaps there was more to the beguiling Doug Morgan than a fantastic ass.
“I guess I’ll have to come up with something other than Captain Morgan.” She grinned, lifting a forkful of her omelet. “Maybe … Master Morgan.” She giggled. “Wait until I tell the girls.”
“This is the best news ever!”
Sam cringed, waving at Piper to keep her voice down. She crept closer, not wanting to be overheard by the other staff in the ICU. “How on earth can this be good news? He’s a Dominant. A whip and chains loving deviant.”
Piper put her powder-covered hands on her scrubs. “It’s good news for you, Sam. You’ve got a man who can teach you a thing or two about sex.”
Sam’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “Are you nuts? I can’t sleep with him.”
“Why not? You like him. He’s obviously interested in you. I think you should go for it. It would be good for you.”
“He’s a Dominant. One of those weirdos you warned me about. And how do you know he’s interested in me?”
Piper grinned. “He took care of you. Cooked you breakfast. Checked up on you.” She tossed her hand up. “Hello, he’s interested. So what if he’s a Dominant? Just because it wasn’t for me doesn’t mean the lifestyle couldn’t work for you.”
“Randy used to suspend you from pulleys in his ceiling. If Doug does that to me, I’ll end up on an episode of Strange Stories of the ER.”
Piper’s pink lips came together in a smart smirk. “Come on, Sam. What could it hurt? Let the guy play his sex games with you, and if you don’t like it, walk away. You never know, you might pick up some pointers for later.” She grinned. “I sure did.”
“I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Sam marched back to her table in front of her patient’s room.
“Hey, I know you haven’t exactly had a lot of luck with men, but don’t fall into the trap of looking for Prince Charming and passing on Mr. Wonderful because he happens to like to tie you to the bedpost. All men have a kinky side. I found the entire experience liberating.”
“How was being suspended from Randy’s ceiling liberating?”
“Because it was the one thing I swore I would never do during sex. But when I did it, I found out that it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I even enjoyed it, and learning that about myself gave me the confidence to be who I wanted. I started lifting weights because I wanted my outsides to match the strength I felt on my insides. That directed me to Roger. If you ask me, Sam, that’s what you’re missing … your inner strength. It doesn’t matter if you find it through mountain climbing or bondage. The point is that you have to find it. You have to test your limits to find out what you’re made of, and only then can you move on. I think you need to explore that with Doug, so you can put your father and the past behind you.”
With a dismissive shrug, Sam picked up her black pen. “I have put it behind me.”
“No, you haven’t. You’re stuck, Sam. You’re stuck between the past and your future. Sometimes you need a swift kick in the ass to propel you forward. You should do this.”
In some strange way, what Piper said made sense. Sam had initially been terrified of taking her traveling nurse contract, thinking she would have a tough time making it on her own. Even so, she had succeeded, and in the process had learned a lot about herself. Embracing the opportunity for change had led her to a new life in a new city. Where could Master Morgan take her?
Sam sat down in her chair. “How would I … I mean, how do I go about being with him?”
“Remember the things we talked about the other night? Letting him come over and help you with repairs around the house and such. Just do that, and he will know you’re interested.”
Sam was about to ask another question when she felt that kick in her gut; the undeniable feeling that something was about to happen. Something bad. Taking an inventory of the other beds in the ICU, she spotted where the feeling was coming from. Darkness was hovering in front of the glass door of bed six.
“Piper,” she pointed to bed six. “Something is wrong and—”
She never got to finish before the alarms on the main panel at the nurses’ station started blaring.
“Code blue, bed six,” the tech sitting behind the panel yelled out.
Nurses and techs from across the unit ran to room six. All except for Sam. She knew there was no hope.
When she arrived at the room entrance, a group of nurses were working on the unresponsive patient, starting CPR and pushing medicine through his IV line, but Sam made no move to help out. She stood at the door and watched as the spirit of a gentleman came alongside her.
He wasn’t the same as the pale, bloated, and worn out older man in the ICU bed. His spirit was vibrant, glowing, and much younger.
“Tell my wife I love her,”
he said to Sam. “She needs to know.”
Sam felt the warmth of other spirits over her shoulder. Peering back into the ICU, she saw the apparitions of a man and a woman, their outlines faint, waiting just before the ICU entrance.
“They’ve come for you,” she told him. “Best to not keep them waiting.”
With a last smile, he floated toward the entrance, and then with a flash of light he was gone.
When Sam veered her gaze back to the team working feverishly to save their patient, she sighed. How could she tell them that it was already too late?
Instead of giving away her secret, Sam returned to her table.
She stared blankly at her paperwork as the shouts of her coworkers still working on the dead man echoed throughout the ICU. How could she even consider a relationship with any man? Who would want a woman who could talk to the dead? Her mind clouded over with visions of giving herself to Doug, and all the things he would do to her. Then she imagined telling him about her ability and watching him run away. He would be repelled by what she could do; anyone would be. Even her father had feared her.
Don’t tell him. Just sleep with him and move on.
Perhaps that insidious voice in her head had a point. For the first time, she wanted to have sex with a man who could help her to forget about her past … and her gift. Sam knew it would never last, but at least she could enjoy something resembling a normal life, before the ghosts ruined everything … yet again.
* * *
Sam returned home that night and all that greeted her was Doug’s closed door. Outside her apartment, she listened for sounds of movement from inside his place, but there was nothing. Giving up, she went to bed and hoped to encounter him the next day.
Beneath her sheets, she plotted out scenarios with the attractive man. Things she would say or do to spark his interests. Piper had said be seductive, enticing, but Brenda had encouraged her to be bubbly.
“Men adore bubbly,” she had professed with a giggle.
Tossing and turning with thoughts of Doug, blended with the advice from Brenda and Piper, sleep eluded her. Throwing the sheets aside, she sighed. Getting a man sure wasn’t this hard in the movies.
Standing from her bed, she heard the tapping again in the wall. After learning the history of the building from Brenda, she wasn’t surprised by the tapping. Sam just wondered why it had never died away.
In the living room, she heard the strange noise start up again. Tonight, it didn’t sound like it was in the wall, but above in the ceiling. The unusual tapping always traveled, but Sam had just figured that was what ghosts did … moved around.
She went to the kitchen to get a glass of water when she felt a chill brush past her. Halting by the breakfast bar, she waited to see if someone was trying to reach out to her. Seconds ticked by, but she heard no words in her head.
Odd, they usually spoke to her at some point, but this spirit never did. There was only the tapping and that sense of a woman. Then it was gone.
It must have been after three when Sam finally dozed off. She had been fast asleep, dreaming of Brenda and Piper in a wrestling match, when something startled her awake.
Checking her phone, she was surprised to find it was almost five. The sun had not yet risen, and darkness still shrouded her bedroom. Climbing out of bed, she was about to go to the bathroom when she saw it.
A faint white light was hovering in the corner of her bedroom. She could not make out any form, but she felt it was a woman. She was sure of it.
Julie, my name is Julie, drifted through her thoughts.
“Julie, let me help you,” Sam whispered to the light.
I’m trapped.
Moving closer, the sounds from Doug’s apartment came through the wall. The light disappeared, and Sam cursed. She stood in the spot where the light had been and tried to read the energy there, but it was gone. Leaning against the wall, she heard Doug on the other side.
He was moving about, his weight making the old floorboards moan. Was he just getting in? She questioned if he had been out late for work … or with a woman.
Music was playing in the background. It was the soulful voice of a woman belting out her sad words of love. He would sing along here and there, his deep voice traveling to the pit of her gut and creating the most pleasant sensations. Was it possible for a man to seduce a woman with just his voice?
Sitting on the floor with her head against the wall, Sam thought about what it would mean to belong to a man like Doug.
What about the sex? Are you going to become that kind of woman?
She flinched at the sound of the voice in her head. It was her father’s voice. Richard Woods had been a harsh man, incapable of offering words of comfort, at least to his daughters. It had turned her sister into a beauty queen, so obsessed with perfection, she had resorted to bulimia to maintain her slim figure. Her father’s nagging, however, had turned Sam into a rebel, balking at every order he had laid down and crossing every line he had drawn in the sand.
You are a disgrace, a harlot, an abomination, and no daughter of mine. His cruel words from the morning she had arrived home from the fraternity house still stung.
Forcing her father from her mind, she concentrated on Doug’s deep voice singing along with the soft music.
“I wonder what Aunt Gertie would have thought of you?”
The timid voice of the purple-haired aunt she had always admired floated into her head. Life is a one-shot deal, Sam. Grab it by the balls.
“What if it’s a mistake, Gertie?”
There are no mistakes, my sweet girl, only adventures. Live yours with him.
As Gertie’s essence faded, Doug’s singing returned, once again melting her very core.
“All right, Master Morgan. Let’s see where this goes.”
* * *
The next day work was a blur after an eight-car pileup on the I-10 filled her ICU. Sam never got a break for lunch as she juggled between the head injury in one room and the broken pelvis in the other. Even Piper had been too busy to visit, and Sam never got a chance to share her plans with her.
By the time the elevator car stopped on the fourth floor of The Shallows, Sam was so exhausted she doubted if she could make it to her bedroom before collapsing. But when the elevator doors opened, a sudden rush of adrenaline brought her to life. Doug’s apartment door was open, and a rich jazz tune was drifting into the hallway.
She wasn’t prepared to confront him now. With little sleep the night before, a hectic day at work, and an assortment of stains on her rumpled blue scrubs, Sam was convinced she looked like death warmed over.
Deciding she needed to change and at least put on lipstick before she confronted him, Sam hugged the wall to avoid being seen. Padding across the burgundy carpet, she was inching her way closer to her apartment. When she finally reached the oak door with the gold A on it, she quietly removed her keys from her backpack. Trying not to make a sound, she slowly turned the lock. Sighing with relief as her door edged open, she snuck inside.
Leaning against her closed door, Sam plotted what to do next. She needed to get him in her apartment. Dropping her backpack on the sofa, she searched for something, anything to jog her mind. Eyeing her kitchen, Sam thought of what Brenda had said about having him come over to fix something … but what?
Her eyes fell on a cabinet door that had never closed all the way. Maybe she could use that as an excuse. Heading toward the kitchen, she kept her eyes on the cabinet door above her stainless sink. Deciding she needed to make the door look worse than it did, Sam climbed up on her countertop to give it a good tug. Then she would change, put on some makeup, and go to his place asking for his help.
Perfect.
Perched precariously on the edge of her sink, Sam opened the cabinet door and inspected the hinges. First, she gave the door a quick yank. Nothing happened. It was a little crooked, but nothing worse than before. Another quick tug yielded the same results. Deciding to put her whole body into it, Sam jerked hard on the ca
binet door, and this time, the entire door broke away from the cabinet, sending her hurtling to the ground.
For several seconds, she lay stunned on her tiled kitchen floor.
The next thing she knew, arms were lifting her into the air.
“Sam? Sam, say something!”
Focusing, Sam discovered she was under the intense scrutiny of Doug’s frosty eyes. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
He carried her to her floral sofa. “I heard you cry out. When I came over, your door was unlocked. I told you about locking it, Sam.” He set her down on her sofa. “I found you on the floor. What were you doing?”
She sat up. Why did her hand feel wet? “I was trying to fix my cabinet.” She glanced down at her hand. There was blood on her fingers.
Brushing her hair away from her forehead, Doug hit a tender spot. Sam jerked her head back. “Your head’s bleeding.”
His half-open shirt exposed his well-defined chest muscles. Sam dropped her eyes when she realized she was staring. “It’s nothing.”
“Like hell it’s nothing. Come on.” He picked her up in his arms. “Let’s get a better look.”
She wanted to protest, but his arms felt way too good around her. As he carried her into her bedroom, she hated to admit it, but she was happy he had come to her aid. In her bathroom, Doug set her down on her vanity and turned on the bright lights.
“Where do you keep your bandages and hydrogen peroxide?”
She pointed to the cabinet below the sink to her right.
Stooping down, he opened the door and began pulling out supplies. “I left my front door open, hoping you would come by.”
“Really?” She checked her enthusiasm. “Why did you want me to come by?”
He stood up, holding some gauze and a bottle of peroxide. “So we could talk. I feel we didn’t quite settle things between us the other morning.”
She took the gauze from him. “Settle what things?”
He opened the bottle of peroxide. “Let’s talk later. After we get you fixed up.”
“Later I might break a limb when I hang a few pictures in my bedroom.”
He took a square of gauze from her hand and poured the peroxide on it. “Then I’d better stick around to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Doug set the bottle down on the vanity countertop. “Were you always this accident prone as a kid?”
Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series Page 5