A Ghost of an Affair

by Ellen March

  “Come with me, Alysia.” Breece took her small hand in his. His heart constricted at the tears awash on her cheeks, the intensity of her sobs as she walked beside him. She kept twisting about, looking for her mother, and one part of him debated letting her go so they could be together.

  Yet he knew he couldn’t. The woman had shown too much courage and love for her daughter for him to go against her wishes.

  He entered the ward and spotted a team of gowned doctors working on a body. Over to the side, a man sat holding his head in his hands as shudders ripped through his body. Next to him was a sheet-covered corpse.

  “One more time.” They placed the pads on her body, shocking her.

  The girl ghost opened her eyes wide and faded slowly from the hands of Breece. “We’ve got a pulse,” shouted a man.

  Breece stared over at the man, who had raised his pale face, his bloodshot eyes full of hope. “She’s alive? Alysia is alive?”

  The nurse smiled and nodded her head. She spared a glance at his dead wife but didn’t mention her. She must have known he already had enough grief to contend with.

  Breece decided he needed fresh air.

  * * *

  The time until lunch passed far too quickly. When the hands on the large clock pointed to five to twelve, a sigh rose from Grace. “Time for my lecture. I hope he doesn’t go on and on.” She looked around and wondered where Breece was, then shrugged. She was glad he wasn’t going to be with her; this time she wanted to face Sage herself. She could keep any shame or embarrassment at his interrogation to herself.

  “Good luck,” Amy said and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

  Grace dragged her feet as she walked down the corridor. When she tapped on the door, there was no answer, only silence. She turned the handle and pushed it open. “Sage?” She had to force her feet to obey her.

  * * *

  Sage glanced down at the time. He was running late. His appointments had run over, and he was at least ten to twenty minutes behind. He spotted his colleague, Rory Connell, and called him over.

  “Do me a favour … have you finished for the morning?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m running late. Told Grace I’d meet her at twelve in my office. Any chance you can pop in and tell her I’ll be delayed, but to stay put?” He knew that otherwise she’d be off, trying to delay the inevitable.

  Dr. Connell’s pale eyes glowed, and he thread a large hand through his fair hair. “Yeah, no worries. Will do. And if she asks how long?”

  “Approx twenty minutes. Thanks.” He turned away, determined to get his notes completed.

  * * *

  Grace jumped when the door opened, but she didn’t bother turning around. Straining her ears, she heard him cross to her. She took a deep breath and waited.

  She almost screamed when a pair of hands came down from behind the chair she sat in. They grasped her tits and squeezed hard. She tried to snatch at his fingers, drag them away, and then glanced up into Dr. Connell’s face.

  Usually pale and insipid, it was alive with a terrible passion. His breath came out in short, sharp snaps. Grace leapt out of the chair, backing warily against the desk. She sidled along the edge, her eyes repeatedly moving to the door.

  “Touch me again and I’ll scream.”

  “No you won’t,” he said. His leering gaze trawled over her, and a smirk rolled across his lips. “I think I’ve got just enough time before Sage arrives.”

  She held out both hands, warding him off. “Don’t you dare come any nearer!”

  Suddenly he moved, fast—too fast for Grace to realize what was happening—and slammed his hand over her mouth. They both tumbled to the floor, Grace beneath Dr. Connell, who straddled her, his hand still over her mouth. He snatched at her top and the buttons sprinkled loose as he tore her blouse. She pummelled him with her fists, but her blows had no effect.

  “Didn’t know Sage had it in him,” he said, staring down at the mass of bites on her shoulder and lower half of her neck. One hand gripped his cock; he welcomed her bucking beneath him.

  She struggled, but her struggles had the opposite effect of increasing his urge to take her.

  She bit down on his hand, drawing blood, which earned her a back-handed slap across the face. “Bitch! You’re going to be sorry you crossed me. Because I intend on sticking my cock in you, and all the while I’ll be biting down on those lush tits that have teased me for so long.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, and she prayed for Breece to come, screaming his name out loud in her mind.

  * * *

  Breece sat in reception, checking the time and wondering where Grace was. His thoughts remained on the girl who had returned to her body. The unselfish sacrifice of the mother, despite her utter devastation, and her husband’s grief.

  Then he overheard Amy’s phone conversation: “I’m on lunch at one. Grace took hers early. She’s meeting Sage in his office.” Her tinkling laughter sounded like the crushing of ice. He decided to go along and have a listen to what the asshole had to stay.

  Suddenly a chill swept over him, and blood froze. He heard her. A terrifying scream from her soul.

  Breece took off and raced towards her, passing through the walls like a heat seeking missile, his target Grace.

  * * *

  Dr. Connell grinned down at his prey. He could taste her fear, and it gave him a unique feeling of sheer strength, of invincibility. His huge paw of a hand gripped her tit and his eyes roamed over her, appreciating how her eyes flashed black, the one already swelling where he’d hit her.

  “And now I get to fuck you.” He tugged at his trousers, releasing an engorged cock, and pushed her skirt up. “It’s about time you had a real man.”

  “You?” she managed to say. “You think you can satisfy me?” She gave a sharp laugh that was cut short by another slap.

  “I don’t give a toss what you want, as long as I come. That’s all I care about. Everyone knows what a slut you are. I’ve heard the whispers. I’ve heard you talking with Amy when you thought I wasn’t listening. Everyone will think you asked for this. I’ve bided my time and waited, and now comes my reward.”

  Suddenly he screamed and stared down at his cock, twisted at an angle. “What the fuck?”

  Grace shrunk back. Breece stood over Dr. Connell, a vengeful sentinel. He picked the man up and swung him round, throwing him across the room. Grace shivered. The icy cold covered her yet again; it froze the entire room. “B-Breece?” she stammered. He was scaring her for the first time ever.

  He was different—not the man she knew.

  He was an angel of destruction.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  She nodded, and then wished she hadn’t. His expression was truly frightening. “Breece, he didn’t shag me, okay?” She needed to make him realize that.

  “But he hurt you?” he repeated and began to fade.

  Grace lay on the floor and watched the tornado that demolished the room. His energy spun about, whirling in an eddy of surging fury, destroying everything. The room was littered with papers and overturned furniture. The ferocity was so thick she could have sliced it.

  Dr. Connell groaned and his eyelids flickered. When his eyes opened, they widened in horror. As did Grace’s when she saw what Breece had turned into.

  Flames licked from him. He rose high above them, almost to the ceiling, the devil incarnate. Fire spat from his black eyes as he dropped to the floor, his nails scoring the face of Dr. Connell, who lay transfixed by the sight of this apparition from hell.

  “Can he see you?” Grace still hadn’t moved.

  “Yes, and he’s going to wish he was dead for touching you. For daring to defile your body.” The voice didn’t sound like Breece’s; instead it had the chilling intonation of a demon.

  Rory Connell lay on his back, paralysed with fear—fear of the unknown and fear of death, of the thing that tore at his tenuous grip on sanity.

  Breece began to hover over the man. “
I’m letting you see my demon, and if you ever witness this again, it will be because you’re dead.” He paused, staring. The need, the overwhelming urge to drag his cock off him was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. “If you ever so much as look the wrong way at Grace again, speak to her in a manner I find offensive, then I’ll do this.” He gripped his balls and squeezed, twisting them. He enjoyed the knowledge that he was inflicting raw pain. “That’s a teaser. The next time I’ll fucking rip it off and force it down your throat. Where you’ll choke, I can assure you.” He kept the pressure on, savouring Dr. Connell’s strangled scream. “Do you understand me?” Breece waited for the nod and dug his fingers in. “Good. So glad we’re in agreement.”

  He placed his hand over Dr. Connell’s chest, where the man’s heart thumped beneath his palm.

  Rory Connell could feel it quickening until he was sweating and gasping for breath. It was pumping so hard, he couldn’t breathe.

  “If I keep it there any longer, just another few seconds, my hand will sink in and I’ll tear your pulsating heart from you.” Breece spoke low. Snatching his hand away, he added, “Remember always, in the days, weeks, months, years to come. One night I will come for you to finish this.”

  He stared down in disgust at the man lying on the floor, noting the stain on his trousers where he’d wet himself. Releasing him, he rose and looked around at the devastation. His gaze alighted on Grace, who still lay on the floor, her shirt open, looking dazed and afraid.

  He glanced at Dr. Connell. “Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and rip you to pieces.” It was no idle threat. He glanced down and saw talons shoot out from beneath his fingernails. He didn’t question, didn’t care where they came from. What he did know was that he could use them.

  Wanted to, badly. Only the fact that Grace was there as witness stopped him.

  Breece watched the blond man stagger shakily to his feet and tuck himself in as he glanced around, terror reflected in his every move. Without another word, he fled into the hallway and shut the door behind him.

  Grace held her arms out, the tears trickling down her face. “Breece?”

  He swept her up into his arms, holding her tight. The fury that had slammed through him was waning, but he still couldn’t believe how he had felt in its grip: he’d wanted to kill Dr. Connell, to tear off his cock and rip his heart out.

  Safe at last, Grace gave in to her terror and clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, needing their safety. She tried to nuzzle in beneath his skin; she wanted to be deep inside him. Her body began to shake, and she sobbed. “Oh God, Breece, thank Christ you came. I called to you. Did you hear me?” she asked through her tears.

  “I heard you, baby.” He covered her in sweet kisses. “I heard you. Know that I’ll always come to you when you need me.” He nuzzled her, trying to calm her crying. Every teardrop stung, increasing his sense of loss, magnifying his grief.

  The seconds ticked by, and Grace continued to hold him. She leaned into him, savouring his scent, treasuring his sanctuary. She knew he’d never let any harm come to her.

  He was her rock, her lover, her friend, her guardian.

  Then came the blistering realization that she loved him. Beyond anything she’d ever felt or experienced. Breece was hers, even when he’d turned into a raging beast.

  “You okay now, baby?” He kissed the top of her head with infinite tenderness.

  She nodded. “Thanks to you.” At last she moved out of his arms, the circle that had kept her safe. “I think tonight I’m going to have to give you a special treat.”

  “Promise?” His grin wasn’t quite as cheeky as usual.

  “On my life, sweetheart.”

  Breece paused, absorbing what she had said. “It’s the first time you’ve called me that.”

  “Then maybe I should make a habit of it. Sweetheart.” She kissed his throat. “I’ve got so much to thank you for.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said, chucking her under the chin, “but if you want to give me a present, feel free.”

  The door opened and Sage strode in. He stumbled to a halt and stared at the mess, the utter devastation of his office.

  Then glanced at Grace.

  “What the hell went on in here?”

  She sniffed. Breece stood beside her, keeping his hand on her back and moving it in soothing, slow circles. “Dr. Connell attacked me, tried to rape me.”

  Sage held a hand up to his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You dare vilify a colleague of mine?”

  “It’s true. Ask ….” Grace began, then stopped. She’d been about to say, “Ask Breece.” He was beginning to feel so real to her that she couldn’t differentiate.

  “Grace, I’m ashamed of you. You’re sex mad, and now you have the audacity to accuse a much respected doctor of attacking you? Well I’m shocked.” His fingers had clenched into fists, which were pumping as if preparing for action. “No, not so much shocked as disgusted that you could stoop so low.”

  “It’s the truth,” she cried, clutching her open shirt to her body.

  “Grace, cover up! You look like something out of a bad porno.” His words dripped out. “How can you blame anyone for wanting to rape you when everything about you screams lack of control and wanton, indiscriminate sexuality?” He shook his head.

  She stubbornly ignored his barb, the insult that dug in deep. “So you think I’m lying?” She spoke in a low, steely voice, at the same time holding back Breece’s arm that was already snaking out.

  “Obviously,” he said as if talking to a child, one who constantly lied and played truant.

  “He touched me. He grabbed my tits.” She pulled her shirt back to reveal the bruises. “He slapped me across the face.” She pointed to her swollen eye.

  Breece had to turn away, sickened with hatred for the man and on the verge of once again losing control of his temper.

  “Doesn’t that prove what he did to me?” She stood before him, revealing the mess on her body. “Well does it?”

  “No, what it shows is how you’ve deceived yourself. You know you made those marks yourself, isn’t that right?”

  “Fuck off! It’s him. He did this to me. And what about my eye? Don’t you care?”

  Sage shook his head. “I think maybe it would be better if you took some time off to reflect on what’s happened.”

  “Sage, I was attacked. What part of that don’t you understand?” Grace felt like wrapping her hands around his neck and shaking him till he woke up.

  “I think we both know your problem.” His sigh was long and exasperated. “You’re a sex addict. I can attest to that—the way you always want me to service you. And now you’ve resorted to imagining having sex? And then again your stint with Joanne—that really says it all. So please. Don’t go laying blame at anyone else’s door.” He pinned her with his glacial stare. “This is all your fault, so don’t accuse Rory of any misdemeanour, do you understand?”

  Grace simply closed her eyes in disbelief and nodded.

  “I suggest you go home, maybe take a tablet, and sleep off whatever you’ve imagined happened here.” He glanced around the room, the utter devastation. “Tomorrow you can tidy this up.”

  She paused and took a breath. “Sage?”

  He cocked his head.

  “Go to hell, because I don’t intend on doing anything more for you.” She let that statement sink in before adding, “Not now, not ever. We’re over.”

  She turned to leave but suddenly found her wrist clasped and held. She looked down, her features frozen in disdain. She was surprised that Breece had stayed back, but reasoned he was leaving this decision up to her.

  “What are you talking about? You can’t walk out on me.”

  “Really? Then watch me, prick. Because there’s only so much I can put up with.” She shook her hand free and turned to walk away.

  “Have you got a head injury?”

  “No, I haven’t, but I think I must have
been suffering from one for a long time. Why else would I let you treat me like your unpaid servant? I’m so grateful you’ve shown me the error of my ways. I was a fool to put up with you for so long.”

  “Grace?” His mouth flapped, resembling a loose door in the wind.

  “Sage, we’re over. You’re nothing but a twat. Even when I’m attacked, whose word do you take?”

  “But Grace … with your track record and insatiable need for sex, can you blame me?”

  “Oh great!” She rolled her eyes. “So I grab men in off the streets to fuck? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Stop being so dramatic and quit using that language.”

  “Sage, it’s over, and I’m going home, okay?” Her hand rested on the door handle.

  “I won’t allow it, Grace.”

  She turned. “Why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Oh fuck, Breece thought. Everything had been going his way until Sage said those words.

  He held his breath, waiting for Grace’s response.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What did you say?” Slowly, like a sleep walker, she turned to face him, sure he couldn’t mean it. Could he? Did she even want those words to be true?

  Sage crossed to where she still stood, clinging to the door handle, reached out, and took her hand. He linked his fingers through hers. “I said I love you.”

  Breece faded, slipped through the wall, because he couldn’t bear to see what happened, to listen to what he knew she was going to say. A searing pain shot through him—fuck, it was more than pain: it was a devastating agony that speared his soul.

  He knew all he possessed was useless love, and she deserved more than that. She needed to be able to live with someone who could give her everything she wanted.