Frankenstein In Love

by Temple Madison

  * * * *

  Kirk Grayson’s essence was ebbing low when he peered out an open window of the dark basement. The brightness of the icy moon bathed his face in brilliance, his falling tears glittering on his scarred face as he gazed into the heavenly light that enfolded him.

  “God,” he agonized, his soul troubled, and his heart breaking. “I…I’m no damned good…hell, I know that, but if…if you’d just hear me this one time…” His voice broke, being silenced by a surge of choking tears. After a few deep, gritty sobs, his rasp continued. “God, I…I…need…something…someone. I…I’m going crazy in this hole day after day…nothing…no life.”

  His breathing became loud, labored, and as his fingers brushed at the tears, he could feel the ugly mass of jagged scars zigzagging horribly across his face. “I know what you’re thinkin’. You’re thinkin’ I have some nerve. Why…why would anyone…my face…Hell,” he argued, his voice a tormented growl. “I know what it…I’m just sayin’ if there’s a way…a way that I could somehow get out of this hole, I…”

  A feeling of helplessness gnawed at his insides, and he stopped abruptly and looked up, his voice lowering to a desperate rumble. God,” he prayed, “hear me now, and hear me good, because if I have to stay here, I…I don’t want to live. Hell…send a bolt of lightning, anything…b-but kill me.” He hesitated, fresh tears creeping down over his hideous face. “Because, God—” He hesitated. His choking sobs filling the darkness. “I’m afraid…I’m afraid…if you don’t do it…I will.”

  He became silent for a moment, and then lifted his gaze, stared out into the night sky, and spoke as if he could see God’s face. “Hey, I know it’s wrong, but who would miss me, huh? My sister, my brother…hell no. They’d be free at last. F-free to live. It’s because of me they’re still here, trapped in this place just as surely as I am. They need a life the same as I do. Maybe more. It’s unfair, what I’ve done to them. I’ve tied them to this miserable mansion long enough. Maybe I deserve this hole. Hell, maybe I deserve anything you give me, but they don’t.

  He was silent for a moment as if listening for the voice of God. When all remained silent, his misty gaze stabbed the skies, trying to penetrate the heavens, and the sound of his voice became a croaking roar. “God! Do you hear me? Where the hell are you? Are you out there?” A force of anger surged through him, and he kicked the furniture, slicing his arm across a bureau, and tearing pictures from the walls. When he finally became exhausted by his outburst, a sense of shame filled him, and fresh tears fell down his horribly disfigured face as he stared out into the night. “I don’t know how much longer I can take it, God. I don’t—

  A crash of thunder took his words and a blaze of lightning revealed something in the mist. He ran to the window and grasped its edges while his gaze speared the darkness. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He squinted, stared, making sure what he saw really was a—woman!

  * * * *

  She felt someone behind her.

  “What in God’s name are you doing out here without anything on?” he yelled, obviously trying to be heard above the wind as he wrapped a shawl around her.

  She turned while the wind ripped at her clothes and hair, and saw the man in her dreams staring down at her.

  “Where am I?” she yelled.

  “You’re on Cat’s Paw,” he answered loudly.

  “Cat’s Paw?” she shouted above the wind. “What is that?”

  “It’s what they call this ridge that overlooks the ocean.” He gathered her close, and pointed toward the beach. “See the lighthouse in the distance?”

  “Yes,” she said, huddling against him.

  “That’s where the old widow lives.” He grasped the tops of her arms and turned her toward him while he still battled the wind. “Never go over there,” he yelled. “She’s a witch, and she can put a curse on you before you know it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she answered, nodding, “but what about…what is that in the base…?

  “We can’t discuss it now. Come with me,” he yelled, his words getting lost in the gust. “You’re freezing out here, and I have a fire going.” She was barefoot, so he picked her up as if she weighed nothing and headed down the rise.

  The wind continued to pound the bluff with thin sheets of sand and spray, nature’s tools used to forge the cliff into the craggy shape of a cat’s paw.

  The tall, dark stranger abruptly swept through the front door with Tiffany in his arms. After putting her down he grabbed some pillows and strewed them on the floor. She stood looking around the familiar room, feeling it was different somehow. The room seemed warmer, more presentable, and although there was still a certain amount of mystery lurking in the shadows, Tiffany felt much more comfortable. He sank down on a pillow and invited her to sit beside him. As she made herself comfortable, he pulled her close to warm up, took the wrap from around her shoulders and threw it aside. Tiffany opened her mouth to thank him, but her speech was taken when she saw again how utterly handsome he was. Her appreciative eyes scanned his perfect face, noticing the little rebellious curl that still fell along his forehead and the dimple that pierced his chin.

  “Your name is Quinn, right? Quinn Kessler?”

  “My name doesn’t matter, Tiffany. I have no name until you give me one.”

  “What?” she said.

  “Tiffany, don’t you understand? I exist because you brought me to life. I’m anything you want me to be. The hero of your novel, your dream lover, the man in your life. Pick a name for me, any name. But remember, unlike the others you create, I exist. I’m real.”

  She shook her head in denial of everything he said. “Real? I don’t think so. Sure, you may seem real, yet how can you be? You’re in my mind. A fictional character that doesn’t even exist. Nothing but words on a page.”

  He crouched down beside her. “Do I look real?” he whispered, touching her chin with his fingers and turning her face up to his.

  “Yes,” she whispered, losing herself within the glittering blue depths of his magnetic gaze.

  He picked up her hand and placed it on his thigh. “Do I feel real?” He began moving it upward, and Tiffany’s heart began to pound.

  “Yes, but—”

  “I’m very real, Tiffany. You have to believe that. You have made me real.”

  “In my dreams, while I’m asleep…”

  “No, Tiffany,” he said as he grabbed the tops of her arms and made her look at him. “I’m real until you no longer want me,” he whispered. “Or the day that you’ll want me so much that I’ll step into your world, just as you’ve stepped into mine.”

  “But, how is that possible?”

  “You have to want it badly enough.”

  “I can’t believe that. I just can’t.”

  His gaze stabbed into hers, his mouth speaking the words that stunned her. “What can I say to convince you? You must have believed at one time. I’m here. Your creation come to life, Tiffany. Your blood, your breath, your thoughts.”

  “No!” she insisted, struggling in his arms. “You can’t ask me to believe that, it would be insane.”

  He cast a long shadow over her, and whispered, “It’s true, Tiffany. I’m the one consistent thread throughout all your novels. Novels filled with crime, evil, blood, killing, Heaven, Hell.”

  “What about love?”

  “Yes, it’s there as well, along with hate, wars, famine, poverty, and fear. And weakness,” he whispered as his gaze bored into her. “You know about weakness, Tiffany. All kinds of weaknesses. Weakness of the soul, the mind—” He hesitated, his gaze lowering to her body. “The flesh.”

  “The flesh? But you have no flesh. You’re not real.”

  In anger, he grasped her face and and lowered his gaze to her lips. “Is this not real?”

  His lips crushed hers, causing her to moan when they began sensuously drawing on hers.

  No, don’t, Tiffany thought when he ended the k
iss and gazed into her heavily-lidded eyes.

  “Tell me, Tiffany,” he rasped, his dark gaze piercing hers, “how real do you want me to get?”

  As real as it gets, she thought as she boldly returned his blazing look.

  “Yes, yes,” he whispered, his eyes holding hers captive within their passionate gaze.

  His husky body leaned closer, lowering her toward the pillows, and she responded, her passion equal to his.

  She felt the softness of the pillows behind her as he pressed her into them. She could feel the weight of his body on hers, causing her mouth to open in ecstasy when she felt his lips on her neck, causing a series of tingles to explode into hot, sparkling, iridescent flashes. He sensuously lifted her gown and opened her legs, pushing himself between her inviting thighs while she responded hungrily to his hot, searching hands. Dizzy with desire, she felt his arousal growing against her stomach, and in response she lifted her knees just as her dream dissolved into tiny pieces of confetti.

  Bzzzzzzzzzzz!

  “Damned clock!” she yelled, throwing the injured mechanical marvel against the wall, sending it’s warped, metal parts flying in all directions.

  Chapter 3

  JONI rolled her old clunker into Tiffany’s drive, making so much noise it sounded as if a collection of metal parts had fallen off and were rattling around inside. Coming to a halt, she revved up the engine, afraid to turn it off. Deciding to keep it running just to be safe, she hung out the window and honked repeatedly. Tiffany came out frowning. “Joni, please. There’s no reason to honk. Everyone within a ten mile radius can hear you. What in hell is wrong with your car?”

  “I don’t know. I’m putting it in the garage tomorrow.”

  “I think you should dig a hole and bury it.”

  “Okay, okay,” Joni said irritably, “so get the lead out and let’s get moving.”

  “Uh, Joni, why don’t we go in mine?”

  “Tiffany, there’s nothing to worry about. Bessie may be old and ugly, but she’s given me great service.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend my evening walking down the highway waving down truckers.”

  “Are you kidding? That’s why I drive this old heap. She’s paired me up with quite a few hunks in the past year.”

  Tiffany just stood there, her head angled as she glared at Joni with her arms folded.

  “Okay.” Joni sighed, turning off the motor and picking up her purse. “But I hope you realize that since I’ve turned her off, I may not be able to get her started again.” She noticed Tiffany’s concerned face as she climbed out of the car. “Hey, don’t worry, if nothing else you can just think of her as an odd and unusual yard ornament.” Stroking the scarred up fender, she added with a teasing smile, “A conversation piece du jour.”

  * * * *

  Later, driving down the highway, Joni noticed Tiffany’s pensive mood, and asked, “Hey, you feelin’ any better?”

  “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with me that a big rugged, handsome man wouldn’t cure.” She glanced over at her friend. “Know any?”

  “Sure, but none that you’d get within fifty feet of.”

  “By the way, where are we going?”

  “City Lights. A new place that opened up in Atlantic City.” Joni frowned when she didn’t get a reaction, and said, “Get the connection? Atlantic City…City Lights?” When she couldn’t get Tiffany’s attention, Joni sighed, and mumbled, “I can tell this night’s gonna be a howl.” Turning back to Tiffany with a frown she said, “Hey, will you cheer up? You’re making me remember my root canal fondly.”

  Tiffany turned and gave Joni a faint smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted. City Lights? That’s the name of it? No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a new spot on the boardwalk. Been open…I don’t know, about a year now. It’s got a live band, great booze, even a casino.”

  “How far is it?”

  “Just straight up the coast road, you can’t miss it. Real exclusive. Only the richest poor people in town go there.”

  “One of those places, huh?”

  “Just kidding. It really is great. The food is absolutely brimming with fat and calories.”

  “Oh, joy,” Tiffany muttered.

  It’s one of those outside things, only at this time of the year the outside cafe is closed and everyone has to eat inside.”

  “Oh well, I guess too much emphasis is put on fun anyway.”

  “Hey,” Joni said, insulted. “You’re gonna love it. It’s really a jumpin’ place. There are crowds of people all year round.”

  “Yee gads,” Tiffany groaned. “Tourists yet.”

  “Oh, and the best part is, they have outside speakers that blast the music right out on the street.” She glanced over at Tiffany. “I’m surprised you haven’t been there before.”

  “Yeah, well, my work keeps me pretty busy.”

  “Tiffany, you’re not foolin’ anybody. How long has it been since you had a date?”

  “I can’t help it, Joni, there’s just no one I’m interested in. Where in hell are all the hot men? You know, the ones you see on calendars and in the movies for God’s sake.”

  “You’ve just answered your own question. They’re on calendars and in the movies.”

  “Yeah? Well somebody’s got ’em, and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

  “Well, it sure ain’t me. I’m not hiding anybody under my bed.”

  “Paper and celluloid is vastly overrated, Joni. Doesn’t give out much heat on a cold night.”

  “You’re just too damned hard to please, Tiffany. Maybe you should lower your standards. You’re not going to find Johnny Depp in the produce section of the supermarket.”

  Tiffany gazed down the long ribbon of road, dreamy-eyed. “You know who I’d really like to have?”

  “No, and with that look on your face, I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Quinn Kessler.”

  “What the hell is a Quinn Kessler?”

  “He’s my dream man,” Tiffany said, smiling. “Don’t you remember me telling you about him?”

  “Oh God, we’re on that again. You’re telling me you don’t want a man made out of paper or celluloid, but you’re willing to take one made out of thin air? Really, Tiffany, I’ve never seen anyone get involved with her characters the way you do.”

  “He’s not a character, Joni.”

  “Yeah? Well, he’s just as bad. He’s someone that lives in your head, for God’s sake.”

  Tiffany became petulant. “Besides, he’s not made out of thin air. He’s as solid as stone.”

  “Come on, Tiffany, if he lives in your imagination, he couldn’t be anything more solid than, well, those men you make up for one of your novels, for instance.”

  “I don’t know how it’s possible, but it’s true. I’ve been having some strange dreams lately, and, well, when he touches me, I just melt.”

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Joni said, leaning over and watching her with concern. “I think you need to get away from that computer for a while. You’re beginning to think those characters in your books are real.”

  “I can’t, Joni. I’ve got another book due soon.”

  “Well, after this one, okay? My God, you’ve got enough books out there now to fill a library. You whip ’em out like there’s no tomorrow. Where the hell do you get all those ideas anyway?”

  Tiffany sighed. “Don’t ever become a writer, Joni, it can be a lonely existence.”

  All at once Joni lunged forward and pointed. “Hey, there it is! Pull up there.”

  *

  Tiffany turned the wheel and pulled over, maneuvering the car into a good parking spot. As she emerged from the low-slung little Spyder, she smiled at all the activity. The street was crowded and people were dancing on the streets to the music that was being piped out through a loud speaker system. Clubs and hotels dotted the shoreline
.

  Joni yelled over the loud music. “This stretch of beach is called The Strip. They’ve got everything here from gambling to burlesque. Some of it legal, some of it not.”

  “Joni, this—”

  Joni groaned. “Don’t be a goody-two-shoes, Tiffany, just let go and have a little fun.”

  “I was going to say that this is a good choice.” Tiffany frowned at her. “Why don’t you let me finish a sentence once in a while?”

  “Okay, so you finished a sentence. Funny, but I didn’t hear an apology in there.”

  “All right, so I was wrong. I apologize.”

  While they were waiting to be seated, Tiffany felt strange, as if she were being watched. She turned, feeling that something—someone—was watching her, but found nothing. At that moment the maître d’ got her attention, and led them to a table close by. Tiffany followed, winding around other tables when she noticed a man whose menu was being stealthily lifted, as if he were hiding his face.

  “How did you find this place?” she asked Joni as they sat down.

  “Oh, word of mouth, you know.”

  “Really, Joni…” Tiffany’s words faded when she happened to catch the eye of the man with the familiar face again. “Oh, my God,” she muttered. She grabbed Joni’s jacket and began to tug. “There he is,” she hissed. “There’s my dre…” Her words faded when she remembered his mysterious words.

  —or the day that you’ll want me so much that I’ll step into your world, just as you’ve stepped into mine. The words echoed over and over in her mind. Into your world—into your world.

  She remembered telling Joni in the car that she wanted a man like—no, not a man like Quinn Kessler, but Quinn Kessler, himself. Was that the key? she wondered as her gaze furtively scanned nameless, faceless people until she found him again. It was him—she knew it was him. The same curl, the same incredible eyes, the same dimple. Tiffany felt ridiculous. Get a grip, Tiffany, she thought, it can’t be the same man. He’s just—he’s just—an incredible look-alike.