Intimate Whispers

by Dee Carney

  Her expression softened. “I can’t believe… Why… You don’t have to…” He took her face in his hands, studying those big beautiful hazel eyes, the gentle roundness of her lips, the softness of her cheeks. His mouth pressed gently against hers, tasting the tang of fruit still lingering. “You may think I have a choice in the matter,” he shook his head, “but I don’t. I can no more walk away from you right now than I can stop breathing. Get that through your mind. Okay?” Despite her murmured acquiescence, confusion still played in her eyes. That was fine. He had plenty of time to prove to her he meant every word he said.

  The dishes put away, their appetite for food sated for the time being, they both paced the apartment, Sabrina in the bedroom while he took the living room. Kelly had wanted nothing to do with his request and cited about two thousand very valid reasons why she shouldn’t help him. Her final noncommittal response of “we’ll see” might as well have been a “hell, no”. The reverberating click from when she disconnected still echoed in his ear.

  Fuck, he needed a plan B if she ended up deciding her job meant a little bit more than an ex-boyfriend and his new flame. In her position, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. On second thought, in her position, he knew exactly what he would do.

  They were hosed.

  A soft beeping sound caught his attention, a single burp of noise he barely registered. He ignored it for the time being, working like hell to figure out the riddle in Sabrina’s tale. Something about what she told him niggled the back of his mind, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. Something, perhaps to do with the timing of events?

  The beep signaled again, and he grunted a sound in response. He needed to think and the stupid noise bugged him.

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  When it beeped a third time, he almost smacked himself on the forehead. Duh.

  Damn cell phone. Because he didn’t hear it ring, the repeating chimes meant voicemail or text message maybe.

  He glanced toward the bedroom where he caught a glimpse of Sabrina’s robe fluttering behind her. The simple Japanese design suited her to a tee, and he had the sudden disconnected thought that he wanted to see her in one of those Asian-styled silk numbers. Chopsticks sticking out of her hair and all. Maybe something so tight, her nipples poked out of the material and reminded him of what exactly waited for him when they got home if he was a very, very good boy.

  With a snort, he shook loose the image. Focus.

  He picked up his cellular, scrutinizing the screen as he did so. That the Mission Impossible theme hadn’t chimed into the air made him knot his brow. Although, he’d received voicemails from the phone company offering him deals, so maybe that’s what made the stupid beeping now. But instead of the new voicemail icon he expected, a letter symbol sat on the display instead.

  New text message.

  “Sabrina!” Heart thumping, he hit the appropriate keys and opened it up. Long strides brought him almost crashing into Sabrina, who’d hurried in from the bedroom.

  “Listen— ‘This is the best I’m willing to do’.” When he paused, she nudged him. “Who? What does it say?” He kept reading. “H and P and DC summ. Whatever that means.” Sabrina shrugged, and her face didn’t register any recognition of the shorthand, either. “From Kel.”

  Whatever she’d sent him was taking a little time to download. Wanting to tap on the screen to hurry it up, he watched the indicator light for the download bar with shortening patience. “Not say. Sent. This is a text message, but it must be a pretty big file. It’s taking a minute to load.”

  He felt her move closer, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she leaned forward on tiptoe to see the screen. Almost subconsciously, he tilted the screen so she could see its contents at the same time he did.

  “History and physical…for Sabrina…Turner.” Holy crap, she did it. His mouth lifted at the corners. “Remind me to call her and say thanks.” Sabrina made some rude noise that didn’t quite indicate she’d remind him, but didn’t offer the same jealousy from a little while ago.

  He kept reading the scanned document, squinting at the fine display on the screen.

  His gaze roamed over it quickly, trying to absorb the basic background of what brought Sabrina to Saint Hope. Some info about her background, her physical appearance, and the piece de resistance, a history of her contact with voices.

  “Okay, according to this, you used to hear only a few distinct voices. Is that right?” She hesitated. “I really don’t remember that well. It was a while ago.” 107

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  “While their message did not appear malevolent, or encourage you to harm yourself,” he continued reading, “there was always a message of underlying desperation from what you insisted were the voices of the dead reaching out for help.” Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “That hasn’t changed.”

  “The plan is to monitor the patient for suicidal ideation or intent, as well as introduce chemical prophylaxis for the voices.” Sabrina stayed silent. He watched her, looking for any sign of distress or maybe some flash of remembrance that brought the memories from this time rushing back.

  This hospitalization instigated the appearance of the him-thing. Something had to have happened during her stay that prompted its appearance.

  After a minute, she looked up at him. “Is that all she sent?” Shaking his head, Jason replied, “Uh, no. There’s this DC Summ I still need to open, too.” He used his index finger to keep scrolling the document down until the second, new one appeared.

  “Discharge summary,” Sabrina read.

  Jason’s breath caught as he continued to scan past the header, almost preventing him reading about this change in Sabrina aloud. “After a combination of chemical prophylaxis and psychotherapy, Sabrina no longer continually hears voices. The patient complains of hearing more voices for a short, intense time period before they disappear altogether. This is a significant change from when she first was admitted, and although not ideal, this progress is encouraging. Patient is being discharged to home, with the following medications.” The subsequent medication-speak he didn’t bother to read.

  Most of the names didn’t mean anything to him.

  She backed away, nibbling on the side of her thumbnail.

  He kept studying her, wondering if maybe she was having some of the same doubts and questions he had. “That doesn’t seem odd to you?” Her face looked more tired than he’d ever seen her. She sat down on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “What?”

  “You said it exactly right. When you first went there, a few voices, just like it says here. But when you left, after you met him, the voices were more intense. And there were more. That’s the important part, I think, Sabrina. More of them.” She laid her head against the armrest, snuggling her body into a semi-ball. “I don’t get it.”

  “Hey—I know you’re tired. Stick with me a little bit longer okay?”

  “M’kay.” Her chin trembled as she stifled to keep a yawn from being born.

  “Sabrina, is it possible…just hear me out… Is it possible that maybe this thing does more than just drive the voices away? Is it possible that somehow it causes more voices to come to you?”

  “That doesn’t make any sense to me.”

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  “Mostly I’m thinking out loud, but maybe it’s like a magnet for the voices, bringing them to you first so that you give in. You let it take what it wants so that it can eventually drive them away. Only temporarily of course.” The more he wondered aloud, the more the logic starting to come together. His words rushed out, the possibility of this all boggling his mind. “Sabrina, in order for this to work, this thing has to get something out of your relationship. More than just sex. I mean, that’s probably just a great perk to the job, but it needs more.” She looked a little less tired and that made him hopeful that maybe she didn’t listen to the ramblings of a madman, or a desperate, jealous lover. But of a f
riend, who had her best interests in mind. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I—I don’t understand.”

  “Baby, look in the mirror. Really look. After you do that, go to the picture of you on the mantel. Compare them. There’s something wrong. You tell me if I’m mistaken, but you don’t look the same to me. I don’t know, but I’m wondering if maybe that thing’s draining you.”

  Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Draining me? I…like, a psychic vampire or something?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Something like that. But I can’t believe that anything with the power to make itself physical, to leave behind some residue of itself is satisfied with your sexual relationship. It just feels too superficial to me.” Horror swept through him as he realized something else. “Earlier, when you thought it had come back, you said

  ‘no’. You said it as if you expected it to stop. Sweet Jesus, if you tell it to leave you alone, will it?”

  The tilt of her chin was almost imperceptible. A barely there move that he might have missed had he chosen just that moment to blink.

  But he saw it.

  “Oh my God. You can tell it no?”

  “And see? That’s why your theory doesn’t make sense. I can send him away at any time.”

  Jason took three strides forward, and grasped her shoulders. He pulled her to standing and close enough to stare directly into her eyes. “But would you, Sabrina?

  Would you really send it away? Could you send it away forever?” Suddenly, he realized he saw small puffs of smoke—condensation—coming from his mouth and hers. Goose bumps broke out on his skin. His lungs burned in his chest.

  Air he drew in through his nose felt crisp.

  Cold.

  “What the fuck just happened to the temperature in here?”

  “Oh Jesus,” Sabrina moaned. “No…”

  Her eyes darted to the side and she inclined her head slightly. The movement drew her right ear back and he recognized the body language all too well. She listened to something—or someone—behind her.

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  “It’s here, isn’t it?” he demanded.

  Tears welled in her eyes when she looked forward and nodded.

  “Sabrina, send it away if that’s all it takes. End this now.” Jason had no idea what he asked of her. How could she send Him away? He took care of her. He’d been a part of her life for so long, she didn’t know what the world would be without Him in it. Jason, on the other hand, had been there for a few weeks.

  What right did he have to tell her to send her only lifeline away?

  Above, the lights flickered. She snapped her gaze up, cold fear climbing down her spine at the same time.

  I am here.

  “Baby, trust me on this. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced I’m right.

  You think this thing is helping you by keeping the voices away. I think it’s actually drawing them to you. It doesn’t come to you when you need it. It comes when it needs you.”

  “But why?” Her voice sounded small and childlike to her own ears. She wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to conserve heat in the frigid room. The temperature must have dropped ten degrees or more in the past thirty seconds.

  “It needs you to feed from. You have this incredible gift to speak to the dead and one day it realized you heard it. Imagine what it must have been like for it. Trapped in some other plane, unable to speak to most of us because we’re not attuned to it the way you are. And then one day, this bright light by the name of Sabrina Turner turns her beauty toward it and it’s so happy, Sabrina. It has someone who can hear it. And better yet, feel it.”

  You need me.

  “Yes, maybe it can exist without you, but you are so tempting. You feed this carnal appetite it has, and it makes you feel good. You think you’re alone in this world and this thing comes along and feels like a friend. Like a lover.”

  “Jason—” She backed away from him. Too close. There was no room to think.

  She needed space. This was too much. Too much.

  The door slammed closed, and both she and Jason spun to look for the phantom possessing it. Of course, nothing was there.

  “Is it here now?” His voice hardened, condensation escaping as puffs of white clouds. “Good. Let it listen. Let it understand that we’re on to it. It has no power over you.”

  “My God,” she said, gasping for air. So cold.

  “Underneath all of that you think it’s providing, it’s deceitful. You think it’s a symbiotic relationship, when, baby, it’s nothing more than a parasite. It’s feeding off you. Draining you so very, very slowly dry. And you’re so tired of fighting the voices and living this hard life that you’re not noticing. You’re just letting it because you’re 110

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  tired.” He sounded sad and that made her heart lurch. “It’s time to rest, Sabrina. It’s time to let it go…”

  “No—” she choked out. Jason couldn’t be right. The voices would come back in full-force if she lived a life without Him. He kept them away.

  The headboard began to rattle, the pictures on the wall shimmying.

  “Don’t let it win this. Send it away. Let me be your strength.” I offer you freedom.

  Her heart thundered as she listened. Jason stood in front of her, his hand outstretched. He was behind, whispering, encouraging her to keep Him in her life.

  A crack zigzagged down the mirror of her vanity. A lightning bolt of terror.

  “What happens if He goes away and I’m left with nothing but the voices, Jason? I can’t go back to Saint Hope. I wouldn’t survive it.”

  “I know it’s a big step, baby. Take this chance, send it away.” She couldn’t do this. She no longer knew what life was like without His touch. His protection.

  “I promise you, Sabrina, no matter what, I will not leave you alone with the voices.” You need me.

  Crushing power, a terrible weight dug into her shoulders. Standing became impossible and Sabrina dropped, one knee slamming against the floor. A spike of pain stealing her breath.

  Still, she fought to retain a grasp on reality. On her sanity. Looking up, she said,

  “You can’t promise that. You don’t know what it’s like.” Jason took one step forward. Just one. The remaining distance hers to claim. “I’m still the man who took you home when the voices were too much for you to bear. I’m the same man who came for you in the ER. I’m the same man who loves you. No matter what.”

  A pain blossomed in her chest as the decision weighed on her. What did she risk by sending Him away? She’d make it maybe two weeks before losing her mind. Jason had no idea what that meant. None.

  She screamed as bottles of perfume shattered, one after the other. Wild-eyed, she was caught between being unable to tear her gaze away and hiding her face from shards of glass flying across the room.

  “Please don’t make me…please…”

  “No! I’m not making you do this. This is your decision. I will stand by you no matter what you decide, but, baby, I need you to hear me. I will not leave you alone. No matter what, I will not leave you alone.”

  A sob tore from her mouth, tears flowing freely now. “You can’t guarantee me that.”

  “I can. I swear to you, I can.”

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  You. Need. Me.

  “Sabrina, baby. Take my hand. Send it away.”

  Her entire body shook and she hugged herself tight. Through water-filled eyes, she looked on the man who’d come to mean so much to her.

  Like he’d said, he was the man who’d rescued her every single time she’d needed him.

  And maybe, just maybe, all she needed all of this time, was to be rescued.

  Slowly, like reaching into a fire, afraid of the burn, she grasped Jason’s hand.

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  Chapter Eight

  “You doing okay?”

  “Can you tell me why sitting behind
a horse that’s dropping stink bombs into a basket is anyone’s idea of a good time?” Sabrina’s nose wrinkled. She continued to grumble, “I don’t care how romantic people say it is.” Jason glanced at the aforementioned contraption beneath the horse’s tail and grimaced. “Woman, you have a way of putting things.” She laughed.

  Sometimes she made noise just to fill the air with some type of noise. The first month had been a test of their relationship, definitely of Jason’s love, but he pulled her through it. As he’d promised, he never left her alone to face the voices by herself.

  “You’re supposed to be enjoying the mood, if nothing else. Totally relaxing,” he continued.

  “I’d be more relaxed if I could feel my freakin’ toes. It’s gotta be ten below out here.”

  He grinned. “Such a whiner! It’s only in the twenties.” Still, Jason huddled closer beneath the blanket and that had been her goal all along.

  His ruddy nose looked as cold as she felt, so she put a gloved hand on the end of it.

  “Tell that to your nose,” she murmured, before tilting her face toward his.

  The kiss he returned could have melted an ice cube.

  “Why are we out here again, when we could be back at home, beneath a blanket that affords just a little more privacy than this?” She waggled her eyebrows.

  “Naughty girl.”

  “Can you blame me? I know the kinds of moves you’ve got going on. And despite the frat-boy look you try so hard to perpetrate, you’re a freak.” He laughed this time.

  The worn blanket had a faint smell of animal and old cologne—not hers or his—and the horse stink wafted up from time to time. Still, Sabrina sat back and watched the colorful display of lights around them. Pedestrians on the sidewalks hurried from building to building, coats pulled up around their ears and collars turned up against the wind. She wished her family was still alive, enjoying the holiday season and its merriment with her, but Jason did his best in keeping her spirits elevated all by himself.