by Karis Walsh
She tried to walk but stumbled and fell in the hot sand. She coughed as the fine dust settled in her nose and throat, making it difficult to breathe. Every inhale made her choke, every exhale felt like her last. She yelled at Mike to wait for her, she was coming, but he had stopped shouting at her and was now staring into the distance behind her. She stood, but her right leg wouldn’t support her weight, and she fell again. This time she stayed down, crawling on her belly and dragging her useless leg behind her. Only a few inches of progress, and her other leg tingled and her muscles seemed to evaporate in the glimmering, stifling air. She had to get to him before her arms wasted away as well.
“Watch out, Beast!” he yelled, running toward her and growing larger faster than was natural. Billie couldn’t figure out how far away he was anymore; she lost all perspective and shaded her eyes to separate Mike from the mirage of green grass and trees that filled her vision. She realized he was within yards of her too late. He jumped on top of her to shield her from harm, but she hadn’t prepared, hadn’t taken a breath. When he landed, they sank into the ground—suddenly turned into a deep lake—and water poured into her, at first welcomed as it washed away the grit and pain, but then suffocating her.
She pushed him off her, clawing at her neck and gasping for air…
“Billie! Wake up!”
Billie’s surroundings slowly swam into focus. She was sitting up in a bed. Where? Where was the door? Over to her left. Yes, the barn apartment. The green glow of her alarm clock. The silhouette in the doorway.
“Merissa,” she rasped, her tongue scratchy and her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Merissa?”
Merissa disappeared from the doorway and reappeared a moment later with a glass of water. She crossed quickly to the bed and sat next to Billie, supporting her trembling hands as she hurriedly gulped down the cold water.
“Are you okay?” Merissa’s voice quavered. She set the empty glass on the bedside table and pulled her knees to her chest. “I was going to come in and talk to you, but I heard you mumbling in your sleep. You started to thrash around.”
Billie took slow breaths, counting to the rhythm until she was fully awake. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you I might have nightmares tonight. Sometimes after working at the therapy program, they get worse.”
Merissa scooched up the bed and gathered Billie into her arms. Billie wanted to protest, to claim she was fine and not to make a fuss, but the tight squeeze of Merissa’s arms felt too good. Merissa put one leg over Billie’s and coiled herself around her, maximizing the contact of their bodies and doing more to relax Billie than any breathing exercises could do. Billie fought back a wave of claustrophobia, unaccustomed to being touched after having one of her suffocating dreams, but eventually she managed to curl into Merissa’s embrace without wanting to claw her way out.
“Were you dreaming about the friend you lost?” Merissa asked, her breath puffing against Billie’s hair and making her nerve endings crackle with an intensity out of proportion to the soft touch. “You were calling for Mike.”
Billie nodded, rubbing her cheek against Merissa’s collarbone. She was gradually moving through the stages of wakefulness, from pain to numbness to normal feeling. She straightened her legs, and Merissa slipped her own between them, shocking Billie’s body back to the present and to an awareness of how close they were and how little clothes they wore.
“You said something about a beast, too. Were you being chased?”
Billie laughed, the sound feeling good when the vibration echoed through Merissa’s body and back into hers. “That was his nickname for me. He called me that because I was such a beast in the field.”
“Really?”
“Do I detect a note of skepticism?” Billie asked, tickling Merissa for doubting her fearsome presence.
Merissa grabbed Billie’s hand and pinned it against the mattress. “Maybe a little. I don’t picture you as a wild, rampaging bull. I’d have thought you’d be called something like Socrates. Wise and a little annoying.”
“Yeah, every army unit has someone named after a Greek philosopher. You wouldn’t believe how many Platos I’ve met.” Billie pulled her arm free and wrapped it around Merissa’s waist, resting her hand on Merissa’s ribcage. She’d had Mike’s kids wrestle her awake from nightmares, but she’d never had Merissa’s kind of touch to bring her out of the pain. The shock of moving from horror to delight was overwhelming, but Billie craved even more. “Actually, the guys in my unit called me the Beast because I somehow managed to collect stray animals wherever we went. I even had a wild monkey for a while. He just showed up in my tent one day, and I carried him around on my shoulder for almost a week before he disappeared again.”
“If you have pictures, I’d love to see them.” Merissa rubbed her hand over Billie’s hair and down her back, over and over. “Do you have these nightmares often?”
“Not as much anymore.” Billie was distracted by the slow strokes of Merissa’s fingers and she was surprised she was still able to string words together to form sentences. “Usually only when something triggers them. Talking about Mike, going to the therapy lessons, the photos on your dresser. I’ve been expecting them to get worse with everything that’s been going on around here, but I don’t usually cry out or talk.” Billie paused. Not that she knew about, anyway. She usually didn’t have someone around to wake her and tell her what she’d said and done. She usually got out of bed and huddled alone in the tub while cold water from the shower beat against her and woke her sensations to the present. The gentle pressure from Merissa’s body was quite preferable.
“You said you were coming to talk to me about something,” Billie said. “Were you going to ask me to switch beds with you?”
Merissa had asked to stay with Billie another night, but she had insisted on taking the couch this time and letting Billie have the bed. Billie hadn’t minded the sofa, especially since she’d had plenty of experience with less comfortable sleeping arrangements in her past, but she felt Merissa starting to regain control of herself and her life after the flurry of fear and helplessness launched by Dennis’s death. Choosing where to sleep was a small step, but one she had let Merissa make.
“Of course not. You handled it without complaining last night, and I can do the same. Although, now that I’m here comforting you, I realize just how supportive this mattress really is and I remember reading an article about how overly soft couches are much better than firm mattresses for those having nightmares. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the benefits of sofa sleeping.”
“Very kind of you. But I remember reading an article stating the exact opposite premise.”
“Says the woman who was flailing and yelling on the supportive mattress.”
“Touché,” Billie said with a laugh. “Fine, we can switch places.”
She made no move to leave the haven of Merissa’s arms, and Merissa didn’t seem inclined to let her go, either.
“I’ve been out there thinking,” Merissa said, her voice growing serious.
“Uh-oh. What about?”
“About what you and Don were saying about suspects. When we just consider Dennis and the work he does in the city, there’s a long list of them. When we cut out everyone who wouldn’t have known when it was safe to put the pictures in my frames, we’re left with a much shorter list.”
“Yes,” Billie said, slowly drawing out the one-syllable word. “Lemaine, Kensington, and Karen.”
“I might have a way we can find out who it was.”
“No.”
Merissa pulled back and looked in Billie’s eyes. “You haven’t even heard my plan yet. Maybe it’s a good one.”
“Whatever it is, my answer is no. We’re not putting you in danger to draw out a killer, if the one who planted the photos and the one who shot Dennis are even the same person. We’ll leave it to the detectives.”
“Who haven’t gotten any closer to solving this case. Just listen. Please?”
“All right,” Billie said. “Go ahead and try to convince me.”
“So, I’ll call—”
“No.”
Merissa playfully shoved Billie toward the other side of the bed. “Give me a chance.”
Billie sat up against the headboard. The thought of someone sneaking through Merissa’s room made her ill. She didn’t want her anywhere near the creep who had followed her to the office and took pictures of them. Even more, she didn’t want Merissa anywhere near the one who had shot Dennis and who could easily have hit Merissa by mistake. But she would hear her out. “Go ahead. I won’t interrupt again.”
“I’ll call Karen and tell her I want to buy the firm and I’ll ask for a meeting with her lawyers. That way I’ll seem legitimate when I contact Lemaine and Kensington.”
Merissa paused, and Billie took it as permission to ask a question. “Do you really want to buy the company? My advice would be to get the hell out of that place and find another job. I’m sure there are excellent opportunities in Seattle, or with another company in Tacoma.”
“The Morgan Group was the best. But to answer your question, I’m really not sure what I want to do. I’d like to continue the company in the same way it was when Dennis was at the top of his game, but I hadn’t realized how much he’d changed, and I don’t know if I can bring the firm back to life. Mediocre buildings and complexes will be built over the next couple of years, and they might ruin the Morgan name. I don’t really need to make a decision right now. I just want Karen to think I have.”
“How will this meeting scare out the others?”
“That’s the cool part,” Merissa said, her eyes bright with excitement. Billie understood—Merissa had been made weak, had been beaten down and scared. She wanted to take back her power, and playing the potential suspects was a great way to do so. If no one cared about the dangerousness of messing with a potential murderer. Billie cared. Very much.
“I’ll call Ed Lemaine and tell him I’m going to buy the firm, but I plan to make it my policy not to be exclusive to any one developer. I’ll also call Jeff Kensington and tell him sorry, but I’m buying the firm and signing an exclusive contract with Lemaine. Then we sit back and wait for one of them to make another move.”
Merissa rested her elbow on the bed and leaned her head in her hand, looking pleased with herself.
“I have so many objections, it’s hard to pick my favorite,” Billie said. “Oh, yeah. Let’s start with the one about how you’re messing with someone who might be prepared to kill for his business.”
“But no one has tried to kill me,” Merissa said. “The photos were placed when I was away from home. I wasn’t even grazed by a bullet in the car. Whoever did this might actually want me in charge now, as long as I’m on the right side when it comes to choosing contractors or investors or whatever group the killer is in.”
“No one has tried to kill you yet . Push these people too far, and who knows what will happen. Besides, I thought your prime suspect was Karen. How does she fit in this plan?”
Merissa shrugged. “I’ll have to wing that part. At the very least, I’ll have a chance to talk to her about Dennis. I can let her know I was aware of the decline in the quality of his work—she doesn’t have to be told I figured this out because of the stolen files. I worked with him every day, and as far as she knows, I had access to this information all along. Maybe she’ll share something about his health or whether they were having financial trouble.”
“Or you can request an audit of all of Dennis’s accounts,” Billie said, without thinking. She clamped a hand over her mouth and mumbled around it. “Shit.”
Merissa reached over and pulled Billie’s hand away. “Spill. What good would it do?”
Billie sighed. She’d crossed the line and made the suggestion. She might as well give her reasons. “I was remembering Dennis’s clause about independent audits. If she knew he was on the take, she’d fight it. Or, she might have been skimming off the top, and he found out. If she was as involved with the books as you seemed to think, this would be a good way to get to her.”
“Meaning you like my plan.”
Billie actually did. Ulterior motives aside, Merissa was interested in possibly buying the firm, and she had a right to call this meeting and to ask for an audit. The seeds of information and misinformation she would sow were only hearsay, and might really provoke the reactions she was hoping for. The main trouble was, this was Merissa and not some hypothetical person. She was alive and smiling and lying next to Billie in bed. Billie wasn’t going to condone anything—no matter how reasonable or effective it might be—if it meant she’d be in danger.
“I like my plan better. Have nothing more to do with the Morgan Group. You are talented and you have a vision for the city. You can be successful elsewhere.”
Merissa’s smile faded. “Yes, I could find another job and another mentor. And I probably will. But Dennis gave me so much, and I owe him this. All I’ll do is meet with Karen and call Jeff and Edwin. Afterward, I promise to follow all your rules and not go anywhere alone or trust anyone or have predictable patterns. We can see what happens, and immediately go to the police if any of them makes a move.”
Billie shook her head. She wanted to give Merissa what she needed—a chance to find Dennis’s killer. She just couldn’t accept the risks involved with Merissa’s plan. “What if I say no again?”
Merissa shrugged. “You have to sleep sometime. I’d rather do this with you watching my back than alone, though.”
Billie shook her head again. She had no doubt Merissa would sneak out and do this on her own if she had to, because she truly thought she was doing what was right for Dennis and for justice. Billie couldn’t let her do this alone, without anyone close to protect her. Merissa seemed to sense her starting to cave, and she shifted on the bed until she was straddling Billie’s thighs and her face was only an inch from Billie’s.
“I owe you one,” she said, leaning forward for a kiss.
*
Merissa meant her kiss to be one of gratitude because Billie had accepted her plan. Billie might not like it, or be convinced it would work, but she would be there for Merissa, and she had no doubt she could trust Billie with her life.
Like their first kiss, this one stayed chaste for a long time, although Merissa’s reaction was anything but sweet and innocent. Her lips barely brushed Billie’s, and she felt herself getting wet. Their noses bumped as she tilted her head and kissed the corners of Billie’s mouth, and her belly clenched in anticipation. She had pushed Billie out of her comfort zone more than once since they met, but Billie was getting her revenge right now. Merissa’s entire body was uncomfortable—in the best way possible.
She wanted to open her mouth, to use her teeth, to do whatever it took to drive Billie wild, but she held back and feathered kisses across Billie’s cheekbones. Her hands were on Billie’s shoulders, and she felt the residual tension from her nightmare. Merissa would wait until the only tightness left in Billie was a need to come, and then she would help her with that release as well.
Merissa returned her attention to Billie’s mouth, and they drank each other in with a slow and delicate kiss. Merissa felt her own achingly taut muscles relaxing under Billie’s hands as they kneaded her hips and pulled her closer. She wasn’t being entirely selfless with her insistence on holding back their passion. She had been disturbed by Billie’s nightmare, too. She’d had bad dreams in her life, of course, especially in these days following Dennis’s murder, but she had never experienced anything like what she saw happening to Billie. Her flailing arms, trying to get some invisible object or person off her. Her rasping voice as she strangled her screams. Her vacant eyes staring blindly at something Merissa would never see. Merissa stretched out on top of her so their bodies pressed together from corner to corner and she turned her head to allow Billie better access to the sensitive skin on her neck. Billie’s tongue traced a fiery trail, helping to erase the image of her in pain, unseeing,
crying out for her friend.
Merissa gasped when Billie’s teeth caught her earlobe with a gentle pinch. Billie still had her secrets, and Merissa had a feeling it would be years before she’d openly talk about her experiences in the army. She’d shared so much of herself with Merissa, though, parts of her childhood Merissa doubted anyone else knew. Merissa herself rarely told anyone about her past, but once she trusted someone with who she was, she gave herself completely. She wouldn’t hold anything back from Billie right now. Could she accept something different from Billie?
She felt Billie sigh beneath her, as the tension from the dreams faded a bit more, replaced by an increased urgency in their movement together. “Thank you for holding me,” Billie whispered, her tongue flicking against Merissa’s ear and adding emphasis to her words. “These nightmares are usually hidden from everyone, but I’m glad you were here.”
Merissa smiled and burrowed closer. Yes, she could live with the secrets that would eventually be told if she and Billie gave this attraction between them a chance to grow. Merissa had been feeling like a helpless pawn for a week now, pushed and pulled in different directions because of the murder, but Billie made her feel strong again. Necessary.
She opened Billie’s legs with a firm nudge of her knee and settled between them, controlling and building the pace between them. Billie had only known her in this weakened state, bewildered by the unexpected and frightening events in her life, but Merissa wanted Billie to know her strength as well. Her demanding and stubborn sides, her determination and drive. All the dimensions that usually were part of her but had been missing lately, leaving her flat. Deflated.
Merissa thrust herself tightly against Billie and paused, feeling the heat and wetness building where they were joined, and then released the pressure and moved away. She heard Billie’s response in her breath. A gasping inhale, a longing exhale. Billie tugged on her hips, urging her closer again, but Merissa got on her knees between Billie’s legs and pulled her satiny nightshirt over her head. Billie followed, propping herself on her elbows and sucking Merissa’s nipple into her mouth firmly and abruptly. Merissa’s illusion that she was in control shattered, and her hips jerked in response as she nearly came from the exquisite sensation of Billie’s warm mouth and teeth against her. She pushed Billie back against the bed and tugged her tank top up to her neck—not wanting to pause long enough to pull it all the way off—and lowered her head to Billie’s breast. Her touch was as restrained as Billie’s had been determined, and she teased and tickled with her tongue until Billie could no longer remain still.