Authors: Tina Folsom
I put my hand on hers. I justified it to myself that a doctor in the hospital would probably have done the same, even though I knew I was looking for any excuse to touch her. I instantly fantasized about what I wanted her hand to do, how I wanted her to touch me.
“Don’t worry. This is on the house.” How true it was. As I prepared another syringe I continued talking to her. So far she didn’t seem to be too worried about who I was or where she was. From her vantage point it truly looked like she was in a surgery suite at a hospital.
“Is there anybody you want me to contact for you?”
She shook her head. “There’s nobody.”
Wrong answer!
She had nobody? Nobody would be looking for her? Nobody would miss her? What was my incentive now of taking her back to the real world? Could it get any worse? I could keep her and nobody would know.
“Are you sure? No relative, colleague, friend, boyfriend?” The last word hurt as I spoke it.
“No, there’s nobody,” she insisted. I was relieved she didn’t have a boyfriend, but this didn’t make things look any better for her. She had no idea what danger she was in. I could keep her locked up here and do anything I wanted with her.
Anything!
I felt how my two sides launched into another fierce battle within me.
“It’ll hurt just a little.” I showed her the syringe, and my voice sounded normal, not revealing the war inside me. She barely flinched. “It’ll take the pain away.”
“Thanks.”
I didn’t want her to sleep yet.
“I don’t know your name.”
“Annette. My name is Annette.” I smiled at her and she smiled back at me. Her eyes locked with mine. I felt as if I could look to the bottom of her soul. I had to tear myself away quickly.
“Have we met before?” she asked shyly.
Oh, no! She remembered me?
It was impossible. I hadn’t been entirely human when she had stared into my amber eyes during the attack. My eyes were green now, so she couldn’t possibly recognize me.
Lie!
“I’m sure I would remember a pretty girl like you,” I flattered her.
She blushed, which made her even more irresistible. I had to turn away from her quickly in order not to lose my composure. I inhaled deeply and counted to three in my mind before turning back to her.
“You’ll fall asleep soon …” I stopped. She was already sleeping.
I knew I had to move her upstairs again. In a few hours the lab mice in the cages in the next room would be woken by the timer I had set to simulate day and night for them. I didn’t want the noise to disturb her.
I lifted her into my arms again and carried her upstairs, careful not to wake her. As before, I laid her into my bed. She still wore her red sweater and I decided she would sleep more comfortably without it. I carefully pulled it over her head. She wore a t-shirt underneath and I could instantly tell that she didn’t wear a bra. Her breasts looked firm and I could see her hard nipples press through her t-shirt. Seeing her like this excited me and I had to take all my strength shielding her body from my view, her body which I imagined to be beautiful.
I decided I would keep the sheets unwashed when she was gone so I could smell her scent whenever I wanted to be reminded of her. As soon as she would realized I was keeping her in my home and this was not a hospital, she would demand to leave and I would have to let her go, if I was strong enough, if my human instincts won.
I had no right to keep her with me even if I only had the best intentions. Right now, I wasn’t quite sure that my intentions were good. The thoughts going through my mind about the things I wanted from her were less than honorable. Virtually all of them involved her being naked in my arms.
In my mind my two sides were at war, one telling me to release her and the other to take her. My good side wanted to take care of her, but I also wanted her to take my pain and loneliness away. I couldn’t expect this sacrifice from anybody.
Once she found out what kind of monster I really was, she would be disgusted and frightened and I wasn’t sure in which order. Not that it mattered. Either one of those feelings would make her want to run.
In the meantime I could dream. For the next few hours she was still mine and nobody could take that away from me. I would deal with everything else later. All I could do was watch her sleep.
As I sat on the edge of the bed I could feel how she breathed evenly. Her long dark hair was spread over the pillow and one of her arms was stretched out to one side, the palm of her hand turned up.
I wanted so much to stoke her, to let my fingers run up the inside of her arm and feel her soft skin. I wanted my lips to kiss her palm and her wrist, my tongue to taste her skin, my arms to hold her.
But I knew it was wrong. I didn’t have her permission, and once she knew me she would never grant it.
Take what you can get while she can’t put up a fight!
It was my animal side talking. My human side was disgusted and won this battle. How many more battles it would win, I didn’t know.
I sat by her side for hours watching her sleep, dreaming about the things that could be if only I was a normal man.
Toward the morning I got up and walked to the bathroom. I switched on the lights and stared into the full-length mirror. My appearance was a little disheveled. I guessed some women would have said I had a rugged look about me. I had read somewhere it was
in
this year. At least all men who had been voted
sexiest men alive
in various magazines had this look: five o’clock shadow, wild hair, muscular build, tall.
My five o’clock shadow was more like a two-day beard even though I had shaved only twenty-four hours ago. My unruly hair was a result of mostly cutting it myself. The muscular build and height was not of my own making. It was the result of my condition. Ever since my initial transformation I had noticed how my body had grown stronger and larger as if to accommodate the beast within.
I looked at my face again. My eyes were back to their natural green color, the amber glow was gone. I hated to see my eyes glow amber, because it meant I wasn’t in control, I was becoming the beast which lurked within me.
In the mirror I stared into the face of a man in his early thirties, even though I knew it not to be true. I wasn’t in my thirties anymore.
Not by a long shot!
I shook my head. It was time to get the stench of the streets off me. I stripped and stepped into the oversized shower and let the water rinse the dirt away. But what it couldn’t wash away was my guilt, my sins and my pain about what I had become.
I dreamed I was cradled by something soft and strong at the same time. It was the strangest feeling. It felt like floating on a magic carpet being embraced by cotton wool. My dreams were interrupted several times by pain, but the pain would disappear each time until I felt engulfed in cotton wool again. I had heard a voice in my dreams, but didn’t know who it belonged to. It was strangely soothing and comforting.
Then I heard a waterfall. It was a calming feeling hearing the drops of water fall onto a hard surface. Or maybe it was raining? I wasn’t sure.
I opened my eyes. The room did not look familiar. Had I gotten drunk and gone home with somebody? Not likely. I didn’t remember being at a party. I recalled I had planned to leave San Francisco.
I could still hear the waterfall. What was it? I sat up realizing I was lying in a large bed, alone. The duvet which covered me was warm and soft, but its scent wasn’t familiar to me. It was somebody else’s scent. I looked around. I was in a huge loft of some sort. The light I saw was coming through a huge skylight in the center of the room which seemed to be the living room.
I looked toward the other end of the place and saw the kitchen and a door next to it. It was ajar. The waterfall noise originated from there. Somebody was taking a shower.
Where am I?
This wasn’t my aunt’s house. And this for sure wasn’t my ex-boyfriend’s flat either. I had never even been to a party at this place.
What had I done last night? I tried to reconstruct my last day, when it hit me. I had been attacked in an alley and then I had woken up in a hospital. But how had I left the hospital? I didn’t remember that. Did I have amnesia?
That was just my luck, wasn’t it? Damn! Would I be able to exchange my Greyhound bus ticket for another day?
I looked around the bed to see where I had left my handbag. There was nothing which belonged to me except for my red sweater. I glanced down at myself and noticed I was wearing my t-shirt. I lifted the blanket.
Ok, I still wore my panties.
Good sign
.
As I looked down my leg I saw the bandage, and as if on cue, the damn thing started hurting.
Suddenly the shower stopped. I dropped back into the pillows turning a little so I could still see the bathroom door. My view was only partially obstructed by a large room divider made out of different cubes which were open in the front and back. Some were filled with books, some displayed other decorative items such as vases and bowls.
I waited patiently trying not to breathe too loudly. Finally the bathroom door opened and he stepped out. I couldn’t see his face, but if his face was anything like his body, he was a God and I was almost certainly dead.
Just in that instance the pain in my thigh reminded me I was probably not dead and therefore couldn’t be in heaven.
A towel was wrapped around the lower part of his body. His chest was bare and displayed well-formed muscles. His legs were equally muscular and well-shaped. He looked strong, and frankly, hot. Would he drop the towel?
Annette, behave!
He walked to the other side of the room and I lost sight of him. Where did he go? I heard a closet opening and some ruffling. Ah, he was choosing something to wear. I shifted around to see whether I could see him from any other angle without revealing that I was awake. I didn’t want to spoil the moment, which I was sure I wouldn’t get again.
Disappointed not to get another glimpse of him I turned back in bed and froze.
A short gasp escaped my mouth. He stood right at the foot of the bed and looked at me. He was fully dressed in khaki pants and a t-shirt. He looked stunned too. Had he caught me staring at him?
How embarrassing!
He was as gorgeous as a Greek god. His hair was dark brown and still damp from the shower. He was clean shaven and he had the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. He was well over six feet tall and looked just as good in clothes as he had half-naked. I preferred him half-naked though.
“Annette.” He knew my name, but I didn’t know his. My amnesia theory had just become more plausible.
“Don’t be scared,” he pleaded with his green eyes. And then it came back to me. I had looked into those green eyes before. I recognized them.
“Doctor?” I didn’t know what his name was, but I remembered he was the one who had treated me at the hospital. Since when did they allow doctors to take their patients home? This was clearly his home.
“Why am I here?” I needed to know. Had they thrown me out of the hospital because I didn’t have insurance? I hoped I hadn’t gotten him into trouble for treating me. I remembered him saying it was
on the house
. He had probably broken the rules. I instantly felt sorry.
“You were injured last night. Do you remember that?”
I nodded.
“I treated your wounds,” he continued in his silky and sexy voice, which I was certain, was illegal in at least forty-eight states.
“Yes, at the hospital. I remember,” I said almost impatiently. I was more interested in how I had gotten here than in him trying to test my memory. Was he checking whether I had amnesia?
“I didn’t treat you at the hospital.”
“Of course you did. I remember you. I’m not hallucinating. It was you.” I was confident. There was no way I could have mistaken those green eyes.
I saw his Adams apple move as he swallowed hard. “What I meant to say is I treated you, but not at the hospital,” he said cautiously as he looked at me. I wasn’t sure what he was expecting me to say. So I wasn’t at the hospital, maybe they had brought me to his practice instead?
Big deal!
I shrugged my shoulders. “So, at your practice then. What does it matter? What I would really like to know is how I got here, to your place.” My arms waved at the loft so he would get the idea.
He was deadly handsome, but I wasn’t so sure about his intelligence at this point. How hard was it to answer a simple question?
“I treated you
here
.” He paused searching my face for any reaction.
“At your home? But then, who brought me to you?” That was strange. Why hadn’t the person who found me just called 9-1-1 instead of bothering a doctor at his home?
“I did. You were hurt. It was faster …” He stopped when he saw my astonished look.
“Oh.” He had brought me here. I looked around.
“Is it just you here?”
Do you make it a habit of bringing injured girls back to your place rather than the hospital?
“Yes,” he admitted.
I stared at him in shock. “Oh!”
Then I suddenly realized he hadn’t answered the question in my head. He had just confirmed he was living alone, not that he made it a habit of bringing injured girls home. But my reaction was already out there.
He looked
crushed?
No, I wasn’t interpreting him correctly. He was annoyed with me. He had treated my injuries for free and I didn’t even thank him for it. How rude was that?
Annette, pull yourself together and apologize!
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
I stared at him. Those weren’t my words. They were his.
He
was apologizing to
me.
What was going on? I put my hands through my hair to touch my skull to see if I had hit my head the night before. I couldn’t find a bump anywhere.