Mirror of My Soul by Joey Hill (book club recommendations .TXT) 📕

wind current move over her. It was unimpeded up here where this tallest building had no competition. It tried to lift her, push her. As if that wind knew her natural state was to plunge, to tumble, to finish what had been started so long ago.

16

Mirror of My Soul

Could she survive reinvention? Redefinition of herself? Did she want Tyler that much? Did she even have a choice?

“It would have been so much easier if you’d let me go with you, David.” And the ironic thing was, to be with him forever all he’d needed to do was let her go. Her words were soft, spoken to the spirits that still lingered here, that stood by her. “But for the first time in my life, I may not be sorry that you didn’t… His pull on me is so strong. I never thought there’d be anything stronger than the call of this place. But he’s there…here…” Her fist clutched over her heart, dug into her breast. “And though it makes me hurt so badly, makes me want to hurt him for tearing me apart, tearing me open, I want him there inside me, too. He forced his way in. And every part of me…”

She shook her head. “Now I want him so much, I can’t breathe. And I’m so afraid he doesn’t understand what that means. I’m not sure I do and I’ve always had to be so sure of everything.”

Not just her heart and soul but her body, exhausted as it was, was still throbbing for him. She needed to go home, take care of it the only way she’d ever been able to release herself. Though there was a desolate ache that went along with the thought, she knew she was going to do it, because whatever she did when she next faced him she at least had to have some control over her hormones.

Rising, she stood on the ledge and looked out into the night. Felt the cold touch of nightmares pull at her, whisper their seductive promises. But tonight, instead of her will having to summon the strength to resist them alone, thoughts of Tyler’s body, his voice and those eyes invading her dreams coaxed her back from the ledge.

* * * * *

She pulled up the alley to her private drive, feeling the exhaustion and desire pushing at her equally. She thought about just locking her doors and sleeping here. The idea of getting out of her car and walking up her front stairs was overwhelming. She would if it wasn’t for the heavy ache in her lower extremities she knew she had to assuage to sleep as she needed to sleep. So a bath in her living quarters on the second floor of the shop, a quick few minutes to do what she knew had to be done for that and then a new day would begin. It was a little after midnight. She lived in a rough neighborhood, but tonight she didn’t concern herself with checking her surroundings as she got out of her car. Being clubbed to death here in the shadows might merely be a relief. Never a sociopath around to accommodate you when you really need him.

She was sensible enough to circle around to the more public front of the house.

Holding the handrail in one hand, her door key and soft velvet edge of her cape with the other, she prepared for the daunting task of mounting the five steps to the porch.

There were flower petals on each one. White and pale pink rose petals, leading up to a bouquet of them in a crystal vase by her door. Probably a good three dozen mixed with delicate baby’s breath. A classic, the rose never failed to convey its message of devotion and romance. Curled around the base was a nearly life-sized plush stuffed 17

Joey W. Hill

tiger. Lying on his side, massive white paws stretched before him, the tiger’s back paws and body formed a protective crescent around the flowers.

Marguerite turned then and saw him across the street leaning against his car, arms crossed, watching her. He had that unreadable, somewhat formidable look. A look which, in her current condition, caused a small gasp to escape her lips at the jolt of desire. Oh, God. It was too soon. She’d refuse him nothing if he came within ten feet of her.

Hell, if he crooked his finger at her across a football field distance she’d be lost. She was probably lost anyway. Sinking down on the top step, she found the tiger’s head with one hand, her bare feet curling into the soft silk of the petals as he straightened from the car and came across the street.

Someone had cared for him she saw, noting the cleaned facial lacerations. The tiny bow-shaped pieces of medical tape held the edges of the skin together in several places in lieu of the stitches he probably should have gotten. But she’d committed his aristocratic grace to memory and could tell he was not moving as easily as he usually did. But he moved well enough to tell her he’d be back in form in several days. Even more important to her treacherous and selfish body, it suggested he was up to the physical activity she was imagining.

“It’s past your bedtime,” she said as he reached her bottom step.

“I’ve no intention of going to bed alone tonight.” His gaze burned into her. She could tell he wanted the cape off where he could see all of her. “Unless you flat out refuse me.”

She would refuse him nothing. They both knew it now. Still she cocked her head.

“And what if I deny you? Tell you to fuck off, get in your car and leave me alone now and forever?”

He took the next step up, forcing her to tilt her head as he leaned over her. “You know what kind of Master I am. We’ve covered that before. I don’t