Page 19 of Heal Me

Annoyed with myself for being turned on by his platonic touch, I do as instructed. I’m sandwiched between his legs on the couch as he begins to knead my shoulders with his hands. “You need this,” he comments. “So tense.”

“That feels nice,” I say, stifling a moan. It’s impossible to pay attention to the show, as my body’s on high alert, and not much else is registering.

He continues working his magic hands until the knots are worked out. “How’s that?”

“So much better, thank you,” I say as his hands still on my shoulders.

I turn my head to look at him and he smiles. He really shouldn’t do that to us mere mortals. “Good, because I’m going to kiss you now.”

Shocked, all I can do is nod. He leans in, his lips softly touching mine. That weird spark of energy is back between us, and I open for him, needing more. He accepts the invitation and the sweetest taste of honeysuckle fills my mouth as his tongue swirls around mine. Ah, so that’s the sweet smell. I’m sure my eyes are wide with surprise, and he begins to pull away.

“I’m sorry—” he starts, but I grab him by the shirt, slamming my lips against his.

This time he’s less hesitant, more demanding with the kiss, and I make a strange sound from the back of my throat. It might have been a moan or a whimper; I’m not sure. My neck’s at an odd angle, and so I twist my body, but that means I’m straddling him. He doesn’t seem to mind, based on the impressive erection I feel against my throbbing core.

He moves his hand down and gently touches my arm, and then he begins to move his hand lower, and now he’s touching the fading scar on my forearm. Suddenly, I’m back in the warehouse—naked and tied up. “No,” I whisper shakily as I pull back from him. My heart sounds like it’s beating out of my chest, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.

“Charlotte, you’re safe. I would never do anything to hurt you,” he says, pulling me closer to him and wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. “Shhh, it’s alright. You’re safe with me.” I didn’t realize that I was crying, but now that I do, I can’t seem to stop. “Shhh,” he says gently.

Envisioning my safe place that my therapist and I have been working on, I see myself in the kitchen with my grandmother, us making buttermilk biscuits from scratch. I focus on the smell of baking biscuits and the details of her kitchen—fine china in the cabinet that we only use on holidays, a well-loved oak table, and flour strewn all over the Formica counter. I picture hugging her, transferring the flour on my apron to her dress, but she doesn’t mind. Her hug feels safe and warm, and eventually I’m able to calm myself in the here and now.

Opening my eyes, I release my death grip on Gabe and blow my nose with a tissue that’s now in my hands. “Talk to me,” he says.

“I’m so sorry. It’s not you. I’m just still having a hard time after what happened.”

“Charlotte,”—he says my name with so much kindness, I’m afraid I’ll start crying again—“please don’t apologize. I moved too fast, and I’m sorry. If you decide to see me again, I promise to behave like a gentleman.”

We stand, and I rise up on my tiptoes and give him a kiss on the cheek. He bows and vanishes. I’ve seen the disappearing trick, and yet I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.

“Doogie, be careful and don’t fall down this rabbit hole too,” I tell my cat, who’s watching from the top of the stairs.

Chapter 9

Gabe

Teleporting to a wooded area, I walk out of the tree coverage and make my way to the grave I could find with my eyes closed. “Hey, Gabby. I meant to take time earlier this morning to come by, but I got stuck in an arbitration.” I lay a daisy—her favorite flower—next to the two already laid on the headstone. “You’ve already had visitors, I see.”

I take a seat in the grass beside my sister’s remains. “So I have good news. Well, maybe good news. I met someone. Her name’s Charlotte. She’s smart like you. I think you would have liked her.” I sigh, rubbing my chin. “Last night, I made a big mistake with her.” I knew I was moving too fast, and yet I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve wanted to grab Charlotte and kiss her since the first time I saw her. Completely irrational and not my character, but there’s no use denying it. I just have to play that feeling close to the vest, as Charlotte’s like a skittish cat, and I don’t want to frighten her away. “Hopefully, she’ll give me another chance,” I say, closing my eyes.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore has me snapping open my eyes. No longer at the cemetery, I’m now near a cliff, overlooking a raging sea a few hundred feet below me. The last time I was at the Watchers’ compound, I had a view of majestic snow-covered mountains on the horizon. The time before that, a barren desert landscape, and before that, a lush jungle. Of course, it’s a big assumption the landscape is real. I’m not convinced if the background is an illusion, or if they literally move their base of operations to different locales.

“You were visiting Gabby’s grave,” Rumel appears and says matter-of-factly. Giving me a hand, he helps me up. My dad’s around my height and build, with skin a few shades darker than mine. His human form appearing to be in his late twenties, he’s dressed in a field shirt, cargo pants, and boots. A serious look crosses his handsome face, as is his usual countenance; we’d pass more for brothers than father and son.

“Yes, I was.” Until I was rudely interrupted.

“Why have you not let that go?” he asks, not in a cruel or judgmental way. Rumel simply doesn’t understand human emotion.

“Why have you summoned me?” I counter. Another thing my dad doesn’t understand—it’s impolite to just teleport someone without a heads-up.

A file folder appears in his outstretched hand. “Background report for Charlotte Jasmine Patel.”

“I don’t want that,” I balk, refusing to take it. But while I didn’t know Charlotte’s middle name, I will file that information away for future use. A fitting name, considering her hair smells of jasmine.

“Why would you not want information about this human you’re spending time with?” he demands. Like most everything I do, my refusal befuddles Rumel.

“Is there a reason you wanted to see me?” I counter. Of course he knows who I’m spending time with. He’s a Watcher and true to the name, he has a mirror that can view any person in the world. There are exceptions. One being if the person’s in a warded area, and that’s just one of the many reasons I took the liberty of warding Charlotte’s apartment. Better to seek forgiveness than ask permission. I’m trying to win Charlotte over, not scare her away by letting her know my dad has a spy mirror and could be watching us at any given moment.

“Turek’s unavailable and I need a mind bender.” Mind bending is what my little Jedi mind trick is called. Turek’s a master mind bender. I’ve never seen a human mind strong enough to withstand that angel’s power of persuasion. Unlike Turek who loves using his gift, I refuse to use mine.

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