Afraid of what she would find, Zara dragged her eyes open to bright lights and fluffy clouds all around her. There was no pain, in fact not much feeling at all except the sense of floating in an endless, soft void.
This was definitely not the elevator shaft.
Had someone made a mistake?
“Not exactly, my child.”
10
Gracie C. McKeever
Zara turned this way and that, but could see no one in the void with her, realized she’d only heard the voice in her head. Okay, she’d play along. “Am I in heaven or hell?”
A second voice answered her, more stern and less benevolent than the first.
“Neither. It is limbo or your waiting room.”
“Waiting to go where?”
“In time. First, you must learn the rules.”
“Rules?”
“Yes, the provisions of your return to earth.”
She was going back? Maybe she could still get her nightclub up and running, maybe she could—
“You have more important things about which to worry.”
“My immortal soul?”
“Micah, stop being so gruff. You are frightening her.”
“She needs to be frightened, Jamaereh.”
Oh God, they were angels! Well, what did she expect, really? “So I’m, uh, going back?”
“You have two weeks to fulfill your desire and be with the man you love,”
the one called Jamaereh answered.
They were giving her Quincy?
“No one is giving you anything, young one,” Micah said. “You must earn him, and even then only for two weeks. After that time you must return for a ruling on your final destination.”
“That’s it?”
“That is not
it
. That is all you are being allowed to know for now.”
“Okay, fine.” He didn’t have to be such a grouch, sheesh.
“I can hear you,” Micah said.
Zara shuddered at the sternness in his deep voice and lowered her eyes like the recalcitrant child he was treating her. “Sorry.”
Zack and the Dark Shaft
11
“Enough of this dawdling. It is time for you to depart.”
“But what else do I need to—” Before Zara could get out another word they whisked her away faster than it had taken her to tumble down that elevator shaft and for her life to change.
* * * *
“I hate it when you play bad cop like that,” Jamaereh said.
“Why? You like playing good cop,” Micah said.
“That is all well and good, but I still do not like it. And you know what I like even less?”
“What is that?” Micah took a seat on one of the many clouds surrounding them and arched his brows in a this-I-have-to-hear gesture.
“When you play Devil’s Advocate.”
“Me? I only did His bidding.”
“Do not remind me.”
“Are you still feeling the sting of the Jack incident centuries later?”
Jamaereh gritted his teeth as if to grind away the memory of the felled beanstalk and the murdered giant. “Jack was a foolish and selfish little thief who would not recognize a blessing if you handed it to him on a silver platter.”
“Which we did.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You take things too personally. It was not our fault what happened. And the child did get his just desserts eventually.”
“Not before ending the life of that hardworking, innocent giant for no other reason than to sate his immature materialism and envy.”
“Do you think Zara Benjamin will discover His loophole and make the same mistakes?”
“Dear God, I hope not.”
12
Gracie C. McKeever
Zack Benjamin’s Loft – Ten Months Later
He was broken, ached all over, every bone shattered. Zack glanced around, eyes unable to penetrate the blackness. He thought he was blind, especially when he blinked several times and no light infiltrated his world. Slowly he got to his feet, shocked that he was able to accomplish the feat.
He felt his way around his environment, hands thrust out in front of him, arms swinging back and forth until his fingers brushed a wall at the same moment shouts from above diffused the pit—loud shouts of desperation. Urgency.
The latter was the most clear, reaching him when all his other senses failed.
Zack understood why when he glanced up and saw a vague shaft of light hundreds of feet up, slowly growing dimmer as the elevator car streaked towards him.
He opened his mouth to scream, to let Quincy know that he was alive down here and needed help but no sound came out.
Zack tried again, his shouts drowned out by the descending elevator car.
The screech of rust and grinding metal assaulted his ears and Zack tried to run for cover, but there was nowhere to go. Walls were on every side of him. He was trapped.
The car accelerated, coming dangerously closer with each passing second.
Zack closed his eyes, said a prayer and flattened himself against the cold, hard floor.
Zack and the Dark Shaft
13
There was no escape, no reprieve.
He was going to die just like his sister.
* * * *
Zack woke with a scream dying on his lips.
He blinked open his eyes expecting the dark, surprised by the summer sun seeping into his bedroom through the Venetian blind slats.
He felt Zara’s spirit this morning stronger than he ever had when she was alive, stronger than he had in the last ten months since her death. It was like she knew the grand opening of her namesake was taking place tonight and was determined to make an appearance.
Zack smiled at the thought, trying to hold onto the feeling of Zara alive and vibrant while he stumbled from his bed and headed to the bathroom. His efforts worked a lot better than he thought for when he glanced in the mirror he saw a clear vision of his sister’s reflection staring back at him instead of his own.
Gasping, he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Get a grip, man. Get a
grip
.” After several seconds, he opened his eyes and released his breath when he saw his own face, dark-blue eyes, tousled, caramel-brown waves and all.
The only difference from the previous image was the more chiseled, masculine features, shorter hair and cleft chin. Otherwise, and aside from their sex, he and his sister had been almost indistinguishable.
Zack turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature and stepped into the old-fashioned claw-footed tub, reveling in the warm spray as it coursed down his body. He took a bar of soap from the shower caddy and slowly soaped his body, lingering over his stiff cock before he abandoned the soap altogether and just fisted his hardening shaft in one hand to firmly pump it.
After several strokes, Zack leaned his free palm on the tile wall in front of him, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut against his fast approaching climax.
Cold heat spread from his groin down to his feet while his balls tightened against his body.
He’d never been so ready to come at a mere caress, like his own
equipment was a novelty to him and he’d never masturbated before.
14
Gracie C. McKeever
Within a minute he spurted his seed against the tile and shouted at his release like he was experiencing his first orgasm.
Hell, he’d always enjoyed coming. He did it with gusto any opportunity he got—though opportunities were few and far between the last several months—but never with this much enthusiasm, especially not alone, not unless he was entertaining his favorite fantasy featuring one Quincy Powers. And he hadn’t even had a chance to conjure up an image of his sister’s best friend before he was shooting his load down the drain.
Shit, he was acting like one of his randy students. What was wrong with him?
Zack leaned a shoulder against the tile wall, panting while he stroked his semi-erection and surprised himself when he got hard again.
He fisted his cock, taking particular pleasure in the sensation of it throbbing against his wet palm, enjoying it like a cherished new toy.
I never realized how much fun this could be with a dick or that you were
such a hunk. Wow, I hope Quincy thinks so too!
He was hearing voices! It was the only explanation. He was nowhere near as conceited as half of those thoughts would have anyone believe. Maybe he could hold off on a visit to the shrink until after the opening tonight, or even a little longer. Lounging on a therapist’s couch for forty-five minutes and blaming his parents for all his problems was more Zara’s speed anyway, not his. He loved his sister but he, better than anyone, knew her flaws.
Besides, he promised Quincy he would make it tonight come hell or high water. Zack guessed he could add hearing voices to those parameters.
He grasped his cock tight, pumping several times and coming even faster than he had a few minutes ago.
Zack took the soap in hand again, quickly washed himself then got out of the shower as fast as he could and before he had a chance to rev up his engines again.
He quickly dried himself with a towel, dressed and got ready for school.
He had a couple of remedial summer courses to teach before he’d be free for the day. Sure he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to teach another class at a public school or otherwise work another day in his life if he didn’t want to, but he wanted to, needed to.
Zack and the Dark Shaft
15
Sometimes he wished he could be more like his sister and just enjoy the fruits of his mother and father’s labor in a generous trust fund. But he didn’t have it in him. He wasn’t the gadabout, partying kind.
Zack used to watch how Zara went about her life a happy-go-luck, Holly Golightly and he envied her, especially her free and easy way with everyone--
especially her free and easy way with one particular someone.
His heart pounded at the idea of seeing Quincy come this evening, and he mentally chastised himself for acting the hopeless, lovesick friend like his sister had for the last several years of her life. Despite his sexuality being more compatible with Quincy Powers’ preferences, Zack didn’t see where he was in any better position to benefit from the man’s affections than his sister. It was pretty obvious Quincy had no interest in him except as the brother of his now dead best friend.
But we can change that!
Zack closed his eyes against the strangely familiar voice in his head.
First his sister died, and now he was losing his mind. Either this or she was haunting him, neither an attractive option.
Hell, it was going to be a long day.
* * * *
Zack hadn’t visited the club in the last three months—trying to avoid both temptation and grief—and the progress that had been made in the interim astounded him.
He entered the building through the VIP entrance where a burly bouncer waved him through after Zack showed his ID. He walked through the marble, art deco lobby and headed for the bank of elevators. He swallowed hard when he stepped onto the first one that arrived.
It didn’t matter that everything about
Zara’s
was new and improved, state-of-the-art. Ever since the accident, Zack couldn’t get onto an elevator without thinking about his sister and what happened to her in this building. He hoped he could make it through the night without having any flashbacks.
16
Gracie C. McKeever
When he stepped off the elevator and into the plush-carpeted vestibule, the strains of a bouncy reggae song drifted out to him.
Zack followed the music, stopping on the threshold of the main hall, a grin slowly creeping up the side of his face while he watched Zara’s long-time friend chatting with staff and circulating the room with an undeniable air of authority befitting the executive that he was.
When Quincy had gotten a gander at Zara’s nightclub business plan, he’d taken up the torch, investing capital, calling in favors soliciting other investors and just generally being a real bulldog with the construction, insisting that the club had to be up and running by Zara’s birthday.
The fruits of his tireless efforts and personal attention to detail were obvious in every corner and crevice of the place. More than an investment,
Zara’s
was an obvious labor of love.
This was especially evident in the wall murals. Zack admired the 3-D
underwater scenes now. One side of the room depicted predators of the sea in various sharks and rays and the other side of the room depicted their more intelligent and domestic prey in dolphins and whales. The scenes were painted with fluorescent paint which made the animals and other wildlife glow under the UV light.
The full effect was spectacular and Zack knew how much his sister, who was in love with anything to do with the Caribbean and the sea, would have loved it.
“Zack! You made it!” Quincy kissed a few cheeks and pat a few backs before he made his way across the shellacked wooden floor.
Zack thought of meeting him halfway, but stood rooted to his spot, too enthralled by the wide breadth of Quincy’s shoulders and his towering presence.
Dressed all in black the man looked and moved like a panther, the sensual play of muscles beneath the T-shirt, leather vest and matching pants, making Zack salivate.
Automatically, he stuck out his hand for a polite shake.
Quincy laughed, ignoring Zack’s hand and pulling him into a bear hug.
Zack gasped and tried not to dissolve within the other man’s firm embrace. He closed his eyes instead, took a deep breath and indulged his olfactory senses to a dose of heaven-on-earth.
Zack and the Dark Shaft
17
God, Quincy smelled good! His masculine scent was a spicy mix of
sandalwood and musk that made Zack’s nostrils flare and his cock harden in his navy chinos.
Quincy pulled away and grasped him around the biceps, staring at him with a slow, sexy grin like he was ecstatic to see Zack. He had always been friendly with Zack, but this greeting was different. This was playful, shameless and hungry. This went beyond the bounds of a you’re-a-nice-guy-and-I-like-you-because-your-my-best-friend’s-brother greeting and slid toward the realms of I-like-you-because-you’re-a-hot-man, let’s-hook-up greeting.
Or was Zack just entertaining wishful thoughts?