Unimaginable Lover

by Rosalie Redd

  CHAPTER 15

  The wall clock beat out a steady rhythm, like a resting heartbeat, but Alora’s favorite timepiece didn’t provide any comfort. Instead, the constant tic-tic-tic only tightened her tense muscles. After the meeting with Zedron and Radnor, she’d fled the council leader’s chamber. The tears hadn’t stopped until she was almost home. As she headed to the window, she stole a quick glance in the mirror. The image of her red-rimmed eyes brought the anger back in full force. She fisted her hand and smashed it against her palm.

  “Zedron, I hate you. Why did you have to challenge me for Earth?” She already knew the answer. He’d wanted to lash out at her for turning down his bonding offer. That she’d picked Veromé, his former best friend, only added to his determination to win this war.

  Veromé. She glanced out the window. The faint light of impending dawn filtered through the canopy of leaves from the Etila and Rolmdew trees. He’d be here soon. Her heart leapt into her throat. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him, tell him about her latest sanction. Not that she had a choice…now.

  He materialized, pixelating, growing from lighter to darker until his entire form solidified. His scent, the smell of the ocean, salty and fresh, filled the room. The skin around his eyes crinkled when he saw her, his mouth forming into his telltale grin. She melted at the sight and ran into his embrace.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. She felt safe, wanted, and a tear slid over her cheek, wetting the skin on his neck. With a warm gentleness she knew so well, he tugged at her chin to gaze into her eyes. His smile faltered, and his brows creased. “My love, what is it? Why the tears?”

  He cradled her head in his palm and wiped her tear away with his thumb. His thoughtful demonstration brought forth another and she pulled away, wiping the traitorous thing with the back of her hand.

  He let her go. The hurt look in his eyes just about broke her. “You’re upset. Please, tell me what’s happened.”

  “I’m so angry.” She ground her teeth so hard, her jaw ached.

  “At what…or whom?”

  Unwilling to admit her guilt, she turned around. “I met with your father tonight.”

  “I take it this wasn’t a family visit.”

  She rubbed the end of her nose and snuffled. “Nope. Radnor summoned me.”

  Veromé wrapped his arms around her, easing her shoulders against his chest. His breath tickled the base of her neck, and she longed to have more than a few minutes with him. She’d be gone as soon as the first rays of the sun crested over the horizon, punishment for the first time she’d cheated.

  “Alora.” Veromé’s voice was low and sensual, yet firm. “Something tells me I’m not going to like what I hear. What did you do?”

  She turned in his embrace, facing him. “Why do you assume I’ve done anything?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Because I know you so well.”

  She pursed her lips and tried to push away, but not very hard. “You don’t trust me.”

  “I never said that.”

  A buzzing noise started in her ear as her pulse picked up. The echoing ping receded as quickly as it started. “I…Zedron…I did something I shouldn’t have.”

  She pushed her palms against him harder this time, and he let her go. With quick strides, she headed toward the window, eager to put distance between them.

  “Zedron.” His bitter tone carried across the room. “Why am I not surprised your mood involves him.”

  A sudden coldness hit her in the chest. She turned toward him. His shoulders were visibly tense, his mouth pursed.

  She blinked. “You’re upset.”

  He furrowed his brow, a pained expression crossing his handsome features. “Tell me, Alora. What do you do at night when I’m not around?”

  She inhaled. The pounding in her ears resumed, and she couldn’t speak for several long seconds. “You think…me…and Zedron…together. N…no, absolutely not.”

  His gaze roamed her face. She didn’t like his scrutiny and her cheeks heated.

  She took a step back and another until the back of her knees crashed into a side table. The flower vase tipped over, water spilling onto the wooden floor. She gripped the flowers by the stems, bringing the delicate petals close to her chest. Her heartbeat pinged so hard, it thrummed in her veins. “How could you think this of me?”

  He flinched. His features softened for a brief moment, but then he regained his composure. He pointed to her bracelet, the one he’d recently given her for their anniversary. “I ran into Zedron not long ago. He mentioned your bracelet—said you wouldn’t wear it. Tell me, why would he say such a thing?”

  She froze, her mind unable to process what Veromé had said. Against her will, her mouth fell open. She shut it so fast, her teeth clanked together. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Her hand tightened around the flower stems and the petals wilted over her fingers. She tossed them to the ground. “He goaded you to cause problems between us. Are you going to let him succeed?”

  As he narrowed his attention on her, the skin around one of his eyes twitched.

  She’d wait him out. Let him come to his own conclusion Zedron was the issue here, not her. The problem was she didn’t have time. As the first rays of the sun peeked through the trees, the familiar tug pulled at her. Before she could say another word, she disappeared, heading to her dark place, the one she went to during the day, leaving Veromé to stew alone.

  CHAPTER 16

  Sheri walked to the nurses’ station and scanned the current list of patients. No new arrivals in the past two days. Good. The facility was already at maximum capacity and they didn’t hire enough staff to keep up with demand, placing extra pressure on the existing nurses to fill the gap. She picked at the skin around her nails, her anxiety bringing back the old habit with a vengeance. Hopefully, she’d land the new job in Seattle, and soon.

  “Hey, Sheri!”

  Sheri glanced down the hallway. Olivia strode toward her at full speed. As she approached, she wiped back a strand of hair that had freed itself from her short ponytail. “Hey girl, am I glad to see you.”

  Sheri gave her a quick hug. “What’s going on today?”

  “Mrs. Alton, bless her heart, has been asking for you, along with the new guy, Michael.”

  Michael. Sheri’s heart skipped a beat. The last time she’d seen him, he’d tracked her every move, as if he were on death row and she was his final meal. “What do you think of Michael?”

  “I feel sorry for him. All alone. No one to visit. Why do you ask?”

  Sheri shrugged, uncertainty and apprehension crawling over her shoulders and down her back. “There’s something about him. He seems a bit creepy.”

  “Huh, I don’t get that vibe from him.”

  Olivia’s eyes were red-rimmed. She had her own problems. “How are you and the kids holding up?”

  Olivia exhaled a long breath, but her eyes gleamed with determination. “I refuse to let Ben and the divorce rule our world. On my day off, I’m taking the kids to a movie, relax a bit. We’ll get through this.”

  “Of course you will.” Sheri had gone through her own trying divorce with Ram. A memory from Sheri’s past surfaced—the day when she’d left her ex-husband.

  * * *

  The doorknob jiggled in Sheri’s hand. She pushed against the door and the latch gave way. The smell of rancid bacon and beer filled the air. Fighting off the nausea, she held her breath, and peered at the kitchen counter. Where her mother’s antique silver tea pot used to reside was now an empty space. She clenched her teeth and muttered under her breath. “Damn you, Ram.”

  This wasn’t the first cherished possession he’d stolen from her and sold to feed his addiction, but it would be the last. Her gaze flitted to the “Eat at Sam’s” chipped mug, the one Ram had given her on their first anniversary as a memento of where they’d met. Anger sent a rush of heat to her face. No, I can’
t stay here, not with him, not anymore.

  “Strike three.” Over the television’s tinny speakers, a cheer rose from the crowd. Ram was home, watching sports, yet again.

  She rubbed her eyes and exhaled. After tossing her keys into her purse, she hung her shoulder bag and coat on the wall hook next to his jacket. The scent of the well-worn leather brought back memories of better days, and a pang of guilt tightened her chest. At one time, she’d loved that coat, or at least the man who used to wear it. He wasn’t the same, not since he started the trip down heroin lane.

  Her pulse raced, but she fisted her hands and headed for the living room. Ram sat on the sofa, his focus on the baseball game. A discarded needle lay on the coffee table next to a wad of tinfoil, a lighter, and a cotton ball.

  His gaze tore from the TV screen to her face. She raised her chin, steeling herself for the impending confrontation.

  “Sheri, my bug.” He glanced at the clock, then returned his attention to her. “Glad to see you could…eh…make it home.”

  The muscles in her arms quivered and she fisted her hands. “You’re high, again.”

  He shrugged. “Care to join me?”

  The skin on her arms tightened, like a thousand ants had crawled over her nerves. With determined strides, she headed into the bedroom and yanked her suitcase from under the bed. Tears, hot and fast, streaked down her cheeks. She jerked open her dresser and snatched bras, underwear, socks, shirts, anything she could grab and shoved them into the bag. When the case was full, she zipped it shut and gripped the handle. Her knuckles turned white from the strain.

  Ram grabbed her shoulder, and spun her to face him. His tiny round pupils were the telltale sign of his addiction.“What’s going on?”

  “You said you’d quit, but you haven’t. I…can’t do this anymore.”

  He trailed a finger down the side of her face.

  She flinched.

  His shoulders visibly shook. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, trapping her. “You’re not leaving.”

  The flight impulse she’d learned from her father fluttered in her stomach. She ripped her arm free and grabbed her suitcase.

  He caught her around the waist, pulling her to him. With a firm grip behind her head, he kissed her. The taste of bacon and beer infiltrated her senses. Disgust roiled in her gut. Her gag reflex kicked in and she choked, pushing his face away. With a loud exhale, he shoved her. She stumbled and caught herself, but not before her hip whacked against the edge of the dresser. A sharp pain bloomed from the bruised tissue.

  “I’m sorry, bug.” Creases formed around his eyes, and he frowned. He placed two fingers against his lips and patted his chest, right above the heart. “I love you, Sheri. I’m a good man. Let me prove it to you.”

  He’d always said he’d wanted to please her, but his selfish, self-destructive nature got in the way. A hot dose of anger had her spitting the words before she could stop herself. “I need someone I can rely on, Ram. Someone who doesn’t steal from me to buy drugs. I need someone who cares about my well-being.” She picked her fallen suitcase off the floor and brushed past him.

  He followed her into the hallway. “Please…Sheri. Don’t go. Don’t leave. If you want me to stop, I will. I…I promise.”

  She stopped, her hand on the doorknob. I’m just like my father, running away. A lump formed in her throat. Part of her still cared for Ram, but she couldn’t stay, couldn’t deal with his problems. Her pulse pounded at her temple. Without a glance, she walked out of his life.

  * * *

  Sheri shook her head to clear the unwanted memory. Ram was a part of her past, not her future. An image of a tall, handsome stranger entered her mind—Tanen. I wonder where he is…

  Olivia touched her arm, pulling her back to reality. “Hey, you okay? You seem kind of…I don’t know, tired?”

  Tired? Try exhausted. After her encounter with Tanen last night, she hadn’t had much sleep. Before work she’d napped for a few hours, forcing herself to relax, but all she could think about was his penetrating gaze and the gentle way he’d held her, not to mention their kiss. She traced her forefinger over her bottom lip, the way he’d done with his thumb. An ache built in her chest, and she longed for more.

  “Wait a minute,” Olivia’s eyes widened, “…are you…are you seeing someone?”

  Heat raced up Sheri’s neck and into her face. “Shhh…not so loud.”

  “Oh, so there is someone in your life.” Olivia clapped her hands. “I’m so happy for you. After everything you went through with Ram, I wasn’t sure you’d ever get back in the game. Tell me, what’s his name? Do I know him?”

  “Olivia, quit. It’s not what you think.”

  “Well, then, tell me. I’m dying to know. Is he cute?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Sheri caught sight of Matt. He approached with quick strides.

  Sheri plastered on a smile. “Good morning, Matt.”

  Olivia turned to face him. “Hey, Matt. I was on my way to check on Mrs. Alton.” Her gaze darted to Sheri. “We’ll chat more later.”

  Sheri squeezed her friend’s arm. “Thanks, Liv.”

  Matt rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Sheri, Michael needs his bandages changed. Would you take care of that before you start your rounds?”

  She exhaled and gave Matt a quick nod. As much as she didn’t want to see this patient, she couldn’t disappoint her supervisor. “Sure, I’ll see him now.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded and headed down the hallway.

  A couple of nurses passed by on their rounds. Against the far wall, an elderly male patient held on to the railing, taking one tentative step at a time, his physical therapist right at his side. At mid-morning, the place seemed alive and well with the buzz of phones and muted conversation, despite the number of sick and broken people hidden in its depths.

  A shiver ran over Sheri’s shoulders. She shook herself and headed to Michael’s room. He lay on his bed, a pile of pillows supporting his back and neck. The television was on, but his attention was riveted to the window. A late-winter storm raged outside, rain tinkling the glass with a fierce intensity.

  He seemed gaunt and pale, his skin slack against his cheekbones. For a man in his mid-thirties, he appeared ten years older. The boot from his broken leg stuck out from beneath the sheet, and his good hand gripped the channel controller. He must’ve sensed her nearby for he glanced her way.

  With a deep breath, she put on a smile and walked up to him. “Good morning, Michael. How are you today?”

  A smile formed on the good side of his face, pulling his mouth into an odd grimace. Strangled sounds emerged from his mouth, and then a word burst from his lips. “H…h…hi.”

  She smiled. “My goodness. You’re making progress already.”

  “H…hi, Sh…Sherriii…”

  Goosebumps formed along her arm. Stop it! He was just a man recovering from an accident-induced stroke.

  Shaking her head, she headed for the cabinet. Her palm itched. An odd redness marred her skin, and she scratched the inflammation with her nails, easing the irritation. She opened a drawer and pulled out some gauze, tape, antiseptic cream, and a pair of scissors. “Looks like it’s time to change your bandages. You ready?”

  He nodded. As she rounded the end of his bed, his gaze tracked her every move. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Just get this over with. She’d dealt with difficult patients before.

  After pulling up a nearby chair, she sat next to him. “Let’s take a look at your arm, shall we?”

  “Mmmm…hmmm.” A spot of drool dripped from his crooked smile.

  “Oops.” She grabbed a tissue from the box on his table and wiped the spittle from his chin.

  His eyes gleamed in appreciation.

  She forced a smile and patted his hand. His grin widened.

  “I’m going to peel off the bandage, clean your wound, and put a fresh one on. Okay?”

  He nodded.

  She pulled on the edge of the bandage
and gently removed the dressing. The gash was still visible, covered with a thin scab. She wiped the wound with the antiseptic and opened new gauze. After placing the clean bandage on his arm, she looked at him. “There, all done. Does that feel better?”

  He smiled and reached out to her with his good hand. The movement caught her off guard and she froze. He trailed a finger down the side of her face and along her chin.

  A chill swept over her arms.

  “There you are. I’d hoped to catch you again.” Olivia’s voice broke the spell, and Sheri stood so fast the back of the chair hit the floor with a loud bang.

  “Liv…you startled me.” Sheri placed her hand over her chest. Blood pounded at her temple, clouding her vision.

  “Oh, sorry. Hey,” Olivia glanced at Michael before returning her attention to Sheri, “can you step away for a moment?”

  With shaking hands, Sheri righted her chair, giving herself a chance to catch her breath. “S…sure.”

  “Oh, good.” Olivia gripped Sheri’s arm, leaned in, and whispered, “I’m on a quick break, but wanted to hear about the guy you were with last night.”

  CHAPTER 17

  G uy? Last night? Ram’s chest constricted and a wave of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Nooooo! Sheri belonged to him! He fisted the sheet in his good hand. The need to pull her to him, tell her he’d changed, that he would prove himself worthy, festered inside.

  Olivia glanced at him. “You can spare her for a minute, can’t you, Michael?”

  He wanted to lash out, yell at Olivia for taking Sheri from him. Instead, he gritted his teeth so hard, his broken jaw ached.

  Sheri’s forehead wrinkled slightly before a forced smile formed on her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

  Sheri… When she’d sat next to him, her unique scent had engulfed him, bringing back all kinds of memories, yet, his Gossum senses, the ones that had followed him to this human body, picked up a slight difference. Her fragrance was tinged with something familiar, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Unable to resist his need to touch her, he’d run his finger over her soft cheek. She hadn’t pulled away. His heart raced. Maybe he had a chance yet.