Page 5 of TimeShifter Part 2

CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Chloe, please let me in,” Zak stared at the closed bedroom door, tempted to ram his fist right through it.

  “Zak, I told you – I just need some time alone – to think -.”

  To think? “Do you want me to leave?” He forced the words out; he didn’t want to leave her, not yet, not until tomorrow. “I can walk out that door – you’ll never see me again – you can forget I was here. Forget I ever existed.

  “No!” Panic laced her voice. “Don’t you dare go anywhere. Not yet – not until we’ve spoken . . . Promise me you won’t leave.”

  His heart sang with relief, he was so sure she wanted him gone. “Ok, I promise. Just – I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do, but I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve done nothing to be sorry for.” He didn’t believe her. “It was me – not you – and I-I just need some space, to think, please.” Her voice was a whisper towards the end, but he heard her alright.

  Think about what? After she’s jumped off the stool, wrapping that over-sized shirt around herself, like a frightened waif, he’d watched her dash into the bedroom and close the door. There was no lock or key in it, all he needed to do was turn the handle and walk in, but he didn’t want to do that. He’d heard the shower running for a good twenty minutes after she’d left him . . . Did she regret it so much that she had to spend twenty minutes washing him off of her? The idea was not a pleasant one. But it must be true; it was obvious she regretted what had happened, yet she’d been with him every step of the way . . ..

  After the shower he’d expected her to come back out, but that was over an hour ago, and now she wanted to think.

  What did she need to think about? The fact that they’d had sex; mind-blowing, wild, incredible sex; his traitorous body hardened at the memory. Now she wanted to be alone – to think?

  To think about the fact that she’d just had sex with a stranger, a stranger with strange abilities that she couldn’t begin to comprehend! He withdrew his fisted hand from the door and walked away.

  The scissors was still on the counter, and the mirror. Zak turned the stool, trying to ignore the memories of what had just passed between them on this damn stool. How he’d completely lost control, like never before in his life, except in combat, when things got really bad – never with a woman though.

  But then Chloe wasn’t just any woman. He couldn’t be around her without wanting to touch her, the sound of her voice, her laughter excited him like nothing else. And then there was the sex – God – he had to stop thinking about the sex. He had to leave tomorrow, in fact he should have left today – he was strong enough – but he wanted one more day with her. There was little chance he’d ever see her again, and the thought tore him to pieces. He wanted to spend time with her, even if she didn’t want sex, he’d be happy just being around her, watching her, listening to her, and maybe even explaining a little of who he was and why he was here . . .

  Sitting back on the stool he took the sharp, steel scissors in his hands, and, avoiding the I told you so eyes reflected back at him in the mirror, began to cut.

  ****

  Chloe lay curled up on her side staring at the wall in front of her. Besides the fear of an unwanted pregnancy, she could be fired if this came out, and it would eventually come out. She could not lie to her superiors. Lying was an anathema to her. Then there was the possibility of STD’s, AIDS. Stop! She had to stop these worst-case-scenarios from bombarding her brain. She might be fine, she just didn’t know how many women he’d had sex with besides her. Loads and loads, she imagined, he was a total babe magnet, and obviously experienced in the art of seduction, not that she’d been seduced, her muscles clenched at the wild, wanton way she’d responded to his expert ministrations. God, she’d never believed it could be so . . . words escaped her.

  She shook her head, striving to escape the vivid memories of their frantic coupling What had happened, what she’d allowed to happen, had repercussions. Besides the fear of pregnancy and STDs, she had no idea where he came from, and then there were his strange abilities to escape a jail cell with iron bars, then enter her home - more iron bars . . . With a sigh of determination, she climbed off the bed, looking for something to wear. The shirt was useless now, most of the buttons on the kitchen floor, together with her sweatpants and underwear, Chloe flushed at the memory. Opening her cupboard, she pulled out a pair of black drawstring pants and a baggy navy blue T-shirt. They would have to do, besides, he’d seen her completely naked – up close and personal. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the bedroom door.

  He was sitting on the stool gripping a chunk of hair in one hand and chopping into it with the scissors. “Zak no!”

  He turned his pale eyes on her, taking in her damp, tumbled hair and baggy clothes. Her grey sweats and panties were folded neatly on the kitchen counter, she noticed, looking away as her cheeks began to heat.

  “What?” A long lock of dark hair drifted to the floor to join a small pile of his beautiful, sable hair.

  Uncalled for anger filled her at his indifferent attitude towards himself. Although it was none of her business what he did to himself, or his hair for that matter, Chloe stalked over, stopping right behind him, forcing herself to return his bleak stare in the mirror. How quickly the atmosphere had changed from hot passion to this tense frostiness.

  “Let me do it,” she held out her hand for the scissors. “Please – it’ll help calm me down.” Her voice was laced with desperation, and he must have heard it, for with a heavy sigh, he closed the scissors and passed them to her.

  She took the comb from the counter, and slowly began to comb his hair again. Fortunately he hadn’t cut too close to his scalp, so she could still give him a decent haircut. Thank God, imagine what he would have done to it if she hadn’t interrupted him.

  Before beginning, Chloe stared into his cool, blue eyes in the mirror. “After the haircut we need to talk, okay?”

  He shrugged, then nodded his head. “Okay”

  And Chloe began cutting.

  ****

 

 

 

 
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