If You Dare

“Open your mind, relax, remove all distractions and imagine yourself floating, floating…floating…”

“I don’t think this is helping.” I complained aloud stomping away from his therapist suddenly very occupied by a plant in the right corner.

“Well, if you would leave that plant alone and concentrate on my voice, then maybe we can get some progress done, we scarcely have half an hour until today’s lesson is over. You are a very hard man to work with, Lachlan.” Catherine Connolly, the infamous therapist, protested. Obviously I wasn’t her favorite patient. I never liked her either, I am always anxious to leave. I go because I have to.

“This isn’t working for me and if you’ll excuse me, I must take my leave now.” I said rather dully, half way out the door. Catherine never bothered to stop me; she knew I would be coming back. I have for the past 10 years; she’s the only one who puts up with me.

I stepped into a very crowed elevator, there were perhaps six others not including the crying toddler, who thought that staring at me was going to fix all of his problems. Yeah, I have enough of problems myself kiddo, no time to fix any others. Was that guy staring at me? No, couldn’t be, maybe I’m just going mad. It seemed everyone was staring today. Geez, didn’t they know that’s rude.

I rushed from the crowed elevator, glad to be away from all the staring eyes. The guy who was staring rather intently in the elevator followed me out closely behind. Malice was rolling off of him in waves nearly bringing me to my knees. How did I not notice it before? He glided past me, he smelled of spice, and was that gunpowder? He stopped abruptly, tilted his head back and looked at me. His eyes! They were a black slate and ice cold, nothing shimmered behind those charcoal colored eyes.

I felt myself staring, eyes wide. I removed myself from his gaze and looked at the rest of him. He was long legged and broad shouldered, and even under his conservative wool tweed jacket and crisp white shirt Lachlan could even feel the enormous strength and power in him. The very room was filled with it.

This man was not to be taken lightly. He looked to be in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties; he looked far more sophisticated than the average Joe. His hair neatly slicked back, and was the color of a deep black, neatly trimmed to the edge of his white collared shirt.

“Excuse me, are you alright?” the man walked closer and placed a huge hand on his upper arm. The touch felt surprisingly warm. He stepped closer, his scent filling my nostrils, that was gunpowder! His scent and closeness was setting every nerve on my body on alert, the skin where he had his hand placed on my arm tingled and heated.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I exalted loudly. “I…I’m fine.” I said jerking my arm from his grasp.


To be continued....