Lesbian Romance: Collection: Her Obsession (LGBT Multicultural Romance) (Paranormal Historical Short Story Collection)

Home > Other > Lesbian Romance: Collection: Her Obsession (LGBT Multicultural Romance) (Paranormal Historical Short Story Collection) > Page 2
Lesbian Romance: Collection: Her Obsession (LGBT Multicultural Romance) (Paranormal Historical Short Story Collection) Page 2

by Lovy Books


  Fay looked scared. “Yeah, I signed it, but I guess I didn’t realize it meant we can’t do stuff outside of work. Does that mean it’s safe to…?”

  “As long as it’s nowhere near here it should be fine. I haven’t gotten caught yet.” Emma listed off a nearby coffee shop and arranged for the two of them to meet up later that night. The sun was setting when Fay hopped onto the subway to make her way there, excited and admittedly a little scared about meeting up with Emma. She felt butterflies in her stomach, not only because it was against workplace rules, but for some other reason she couldn’t quite pin down. All she knew is she was excited to be going out with a new friend. When Emma arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes later, she greeted her with a smile — but to her surprise, Emma leaned in for a hug. But Fay wasn’t taken aback this time; in fact, she felt completely comfortable.

  The women talked for hours, their hands communicating their life stories until the coffee shop was set to close and they were the only two left. When they parted ways, Fay was giddy about making a new friend — or was it more? She felt her heart beating rapidly and her stomach churning with the butterflies of meeting someone new and intriguing, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

  Fay purposefully began walking past Emma’s desk more often and she noticed Emma came her way frequently, too; they tried to chat during their lunch breaks and make plans on weekends as much as possible. Just a few weeks after meeting each other, Emma had become the closest friend Fay had ever had.

  One sunny Saturday afternoon, the blithe pair took a stroll through one of the city’s parks along the river, admiring the leafy trees dotting the walkway and the laughing children that ran all around them.

  As they rounded a curve in the path, Emma gestured toward some benches right on the waterfront and the pair moved to sit there together, their knees almost touching but not quite. The break in nonstop conversation was pleasant and Fay found the courage to reach for Emma’s hand and held it gently, as they both watched the birds fly overhead.

  Then Emma pulled her hand back and began signing again. “Sometimes I wish I could go live by a lake somewhere in the mountains and live out the rest of my life there.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I wish I could get away from people now and then. This is so idyllic.”

  “That’s so weird,” Fay signed. “I thought you might use that word, ‘idyllic.’”

  “Are you reading my mind?” Emma’s upper body shook as she laughed silently, shaking her head at the silly idea. Fay laughed, too, but continued talking. “It’s weird, though, I feel like I know what you’re going to say before you say it.”

  Emma cocked her head and looked at her. “Now that you mention it, I have noticed that too. It’s like we’ve known each other forever.” She paused and smiled. “It’s nice. “

  Fay returned Emma’s smile, truly happy to be with someone she cared about and that could understand her. But she couldn’t help being reminded of a similar conversation with her mother that she’d forgotten about until this moment.

  When Fay was 17, she was reluctantly helping her mother plan her high school graduation celebration, a party with all of her friends and family and filled with cake, balloons and outdoor volleyball. It sounded like fun, but Fay’s mother insisted on making everything more complicated than it needed to be.

  “Fay,” she signed shrilly on the morning of the party, rushing around the kitchen at top speed, “don’t forget to iron your dress before you put it on this evening!”

  Whatever, Mom, you probably want me to iron the tablecloths, too, she thought to herself with an eye roll.

  “And it wouldn’t hurt to iron out the tablecloths before you put them on the tables. Everything needs to be neat.”

  Oh, and what about the hors d’oeuvres? Can’t forget those. Because everyone loves munchkin-sized finger foods at a party. This is getting ridiculous, Fay thought.

  “What do you think about bruschetta for appetizers? Or a whole plate of hors d’oeuvres?”

  Fay grew slightly alarmed. Whoa. She’s saying exactly what I’m thinking. She knew she shouldn’t sign anything more to her stressed mother, but she couldn’t help it — she scowled and signed, “Are you that predictable?”

  That opened a can of worms. Her mother was not pleased at the insult and refused to talk to Fay for the rest of the day, not even at the grad party. Fay felt guilty, but she couldn’t help it: maybe her mother was that predictable. Or she had a strange knack for figuring out what people were going to say before they said it.

  That feeling was coming back now as she and Emma sat on the bench together overlooking the river. “Hey,” she said after a moment. “Can we try something?” Emma looked puzzled. “Sure.” Fay grabbed her hands. Listen to me, she said in her head, thinking as hard as she could in Emma’s direction. Can you hear me?

  Emma closed her eyes, concentrating. There was nothing between them for a minute, and then — I can hear you! She opened her eyes. Fay sat across from her, the two of them cross-legged and holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. How am I hearing you right now? The voice inside Emma’s head was unmistakably Fay’s — or at least not her own. She, too, retained the memory of what human voices sounded like from before she lost her hearing and she could recognize a distinct human voice in her head.

  Fay dropped her hands. What about now? Can you hear this?

  Emma closed her eyes again, blocking out all other stimulation. Then she snapped her eyes back open in widened surprise. This is so weird. How is this happening?

  I don’t know, Fay shrugged. I kept thinking I was hearing your voice when I was near you; I couldn’t figure out why.

  So you can hear my thoughts in my head? And I can hear yours? Both Fay and Emma were in shock at discovering their apparent telepathic powers so abruptly. They realized it must have been the first handshake between them, the initial physical contact that triggered the ability coming to life in such a powerful way.

  It changed everything. They spent the rest of the evening talking in complete silence, but exercising their brains’ newfound abilities to communicate. With each sentence they spoke to each other the mental connection grew stronger and at the end of the night they felt as if they could hear each other’s voices crystal clear. Even at work the following morning, the women discovered they could still hear each other from their respective desks some sixty feet apart.

  A few days later, during the girls’ lunch break, Fay brought up something she had been wondering about since they had discovered their telepathic connection. Emma? she asked timidly, sending her thoughts gently in her friend’s direction. Are we alone? I mean, do you think anyone else can do this? Or are we just special?

  Emma was puzzled. I don’t know. I don’t see why people would need to have this ability if they could use their voices and hearing. But we can’t do that. So maybe this is something special to just us.

  Then do you think the other deaf people here can do it too?

  Emma paused. I don’t know. Want to find out? The girls stood up and walked across the room to Chip’s desk. Fay was already annoyed to find him sitting back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk. How unprofessional, she thought. Emma shot her an agreeing look. Right as they approached him, he looked up and smiled at then. “Hey ladies,” he signed. But his thoughts did more talking; Fay and Emma were right about being able to read his mind, too. If it isn’t the two sexiest people in this office, maybe they’ve finally decided they want a piece of this.

  Fay scrunched up her nose and recoiled. Ugh, that’s revolting. Emma frowned at her. Yeah, he wishes.

  Chip looked shocked. What the hell?

  Can you hear us? Fay put a hand on his desk and leaned closer to him.

  Yes. How are you—

  We don’t know. We just discovered it last week, and we wondered if everyone like us could do it too. Looks like we can. Emma stepped forward. Give me your hands. Chip immediately assumed a snarky
grin on his face; Emma glared. Don’t get too excited. When they clasped hands a sudden warmth spread through her body. His mental energy also connected with hers, although not nearly as strongly as it had with Fay. Am I coming in clearer now? He nodded. This is amazing. What should we do? The three of them stood and thought together for a moment before deciding to call a meeting with all the members of the disability program of the HSA, all five disabled people that were employed on their floor.

  The following evening the five of them met secretly at a café just outside of the city — but they all sat far enough away from each other create the appearance of total unfamiliarity and anonymity between them. That was the idea. Not only would they not be seen as suspicious for sitting around silently together, but if they also sat apart from each other they could practice reading each other’s thoughts more powerfully. Fay and Emma sat farthest from each other; their connection was already stronger than the others and it was with the other employees that more practice was necessary.

  For the beginners, Madeline Chang and Ben Sharp, the feeling started as concentration, as if they were trying to remember a very distant memory and bring it to the surface. Sometimes it manifested in a small headache that might grow stronger the greater the distance between them. Fay and Emma had established that physical contact made the mind-reading easier and they’d brought Chip in on the practice early, but it was imperative that the five of them develop the ability to communicate each other while maintaining a distance. In time, over days and days of practice right in a row, the five overcame the feeling of headaches and migraines with each other and were able to hear each other’s thoughts from a distance of 50, then 75, then 100 feet. They could be sitting at their own desks across the room from each other and hear each other crystal clear. That was the goal; the meetings were working. The group continued to meet regularly — at least twice a week — after work and practice among one another during the day as well. After a while, Fay discovered that among speaking people, their speech aloud matched the thoughts in their head, which made it convenient to eavesdrop when she could read people’s lips at the same time.

  Chapter Four

  About a month after the five of them had first begun their meetings, Fay was sitting at her desk organizing agency meetings for the next several weeks when she suddenly felt a vibration and heard a high-pitched, sharp ringing sound in her head; it made her wince. She was picking up some interference in someone’s thoughts; the way the radio fluctuates between channels; only catching certain bits and pieces of content. She shook her head and tried to focus on the shrill noises, but could only catch a few words: “—the implementation—“ “meeting tomorrow—“ “low status—“ “elimination—.” She tried to identify the sound. When she looked up inconspicuously from her desk, she saw the research director, Sherman Delaney, whose office was across the room from her, coming her way. As he neared Mr. Stephens, he made quick eye contact with Fay and nodded in her direction. Suddenly there was a popping sensation in Fay’s head and the radio-like interference stopped. Now she could hear Mr. Delaney’s thoughts clearly, although they were muffled slightly in what she understood to be a mental version of whispering. Mr. Stephens greeted him with a pat on the back and ushered him inside the office. Fay leaned to her right, trying to watch the pair, but Mr. Stephens closed the door harshly.

  “—What’s this about, Delaney, what changed—“

  “—Can’t go through with it … my family … hesitations—“

  Fay perked up. She felt nervous. What could they be talking about? She couldn’t quite catch the things they were saying, and reached out to Emma for help. Emma. Hey, listen. I need your brain right now. Mr. Stephens and Mr. Delaney are having a weird conversation. Can you listen in with me? Emma, across the room, nodded to her in affirmation and also began trying to listen in.

  “Isn’t there some other way, Nick? It’s not the only option.”

  “Not the only option, sure, Delaney, but the best one. We’re meeting tomorrow to finalize everything. There’s no turning back now; we have everything planned out.”

  “But is it really necessary?”

  “Of course it’s necessary, Delaney. You know the risks if we don’t implement this. We can’t afford having those people around.”

  Fay’s eyes widened and she screamed internally for Emma’s attention. Are you hearing this? What’s happening? Then she heard Mr. Stephens’s door opening and Mr. Delaney walked out. Wait, shh, listen. But neither man said anything else. Mr. Delaney stepped outside, and Mr. Stephens followed for a moment, gave him a nod and closed the door again. Mr. Delaney stood still for a moment, took a deep breath and then walked slowly back to his office.

  Fay looked directly at Emma once he was out of the vicinity; she returned her gaze with steely eyes. She immediately shouted telepathically to Chip, Madeline and Ben. Did any of you guys hear that? None had. Shit.

  Fay started biting her fingernails, a habit she’d given up years ago — except when she was anxious. What do we do? Then Emma stood up slowly and looked toward Chip’s desk, garnering power from Fay as she sent thought waves across the room. Chip, you work with Delaney’s people. Can you get in there and pick his brain a little? Chip’s answer came floating back through everyone’s head. Oh, for sure. I’ll put myself to work and get you what you need. Even from a distance, Emma could see him stand up and puff out his chest and pretend to smooth out his impeccably ironed shirt. Then he knocked on Mr. Delaney’s door and went inside. The door closed again. They waited.

  Ten minutes passed. Emma and Fay looked at each other from a distance with growing concern. What’s happening? Do you hear anything? But none of the telepaths could get any thought reception from Mr. Delaney’s room. The only thing either of them could hear was an persistent ringing sound that echoed faintly in their minds and then—

  A bloodcurdling scream, loud and sudden enough to break a pane of glass, came in a split second, through the minds of all five telepaths. As an aftershock, all of their heads started to throb with the pain the sensation caused. Fay grabbed her head with her hands and closed her eyes as tightly as she could.

  Then, just as sudden as it happened, the sound ceased. Fay took a deep breath; she felt like her whole head was on fire. She looked over at Emma, who was sitting back in her chair holding her head in her hands, too. Then she stood up. Fay could tell she was trying to say something in her mind to her, but there was no thought; only the ringing sound persisted now. Fay shrugged. I don’t know what you’re saying to me, she mouthed as deliberately as she could. Emma took a deep breath and sat down at her computer, typing furiously. A second later an email popped up on Fay’s computer. “ Hi Fay, I sent an email to Hayley in Delaney’s department asking her to check and see if the report for tomorrow’s meeting is done yet. I just need to get someone in there — someone who’s not one of us. Emma” Fay watched Hayley get up from her desk and walk across the room. She waited.

  Then Hayley rushed back toward her, her face ashen. Fay thought she was coming to speak to her, but instead Hayley turned and pounded on Mr. Stephens’s door, clearly yelling as loud as she could. Mr. Stephens’s face turned white and he was out the door in a heartbeat, running across the hallway to reach Mr. Delaney’s office. Following him were Angelina Battle, the operations director, and Alexander Kalma, the finance director. All three of them stood perfectly erect as they strode across the hall. This was too much. Fay stood up, too, and followed them to Mr. Delaney’s office. Once there, a gruesome sight met her eyes: Chip lay motionless on his side on the floor, a trail of blood streaming from his nose into a puddle next to him, Mr. Delaney sat slumped over, his spine grotesquely hunchbacked and contorted, as his eyelids drooped and he blew spit bubbles out of his mouth. Fay covered her mouth with her hand; she felt the hot exhales of her breath in her shock. Oh god, she thought, and lurched backward. Emma had come up behind her, wondering what the commotion was. But Fay didn’t see her. She only left the office immediately, went back
to her apartment and curled up into bed.

  She didn’t return to work the next day, nor the day after that. In fact, none of her telepathic friends had been to work since the incident. Everyone was still in shock. Mr. Stephens had sent out a company-wide email that Fay received at home, eulogizing Chip and informing his employees when and where his funeral would be held — it would be a rare occasion when all HSA employees could come together outside the workplace.

  But Fay wasn’t sure she wanted to go. She hadn’t used her telepathic powers since Chip’s death, and she’d only spoken to Emma once in a text message, when they were checking to make sure the other was okay. Fay didn’t even want to talk to her. She felt a constant dull ache in her body, a sense of lowness that didn’t go away in any activity for four full days. She was scared of herself now, of all of them. What had happened in that room? Why had Chip died? He had clearly overworked himself, but for what? What had he hoped to learn from Mr. Delaney? And why had he gone in alone, when he wasn’t strong enough to delve deeply into someone else’s mind? She felt so divided. On the one hand, she was terrified of her own mental abilities and felt apprehensive about even trying to communicate telepathically; on the other, she couldn’t get the snippets of conversation between Mr. Stephens and Mr. Delaney out of her head and she wanted to know what was happening.

  Chapter Five

  The Saturday morning on which Chip’s funeral was to take place, Fay met Emma at her apartment. Emma opened the door immediately with a heavy heart, and Fay collapsed into her arms for a warm hug. Emma stroked her hair gently and held her close as the two reunited. When they broke apart, they gazed into each other’s eyes and Fay had to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying. After a few minutes, they gathered themselves together and headed to the cemetery for the funeral and burial.

 

‹ Prev