Zack and the Dark Shaft (6 page)

Oh shit! That couldn’t have happened! He would have remembered

something so rapturous happening to his body. Wouldn’t he?

“You don’t look well, Zack. Do you have a hangover, or did one of those twinkies slip something into your drink?”

“No and no.” Zack stepped back again, angry that Quincy would think he’d be dumb enough to let someone drug him, despite the fact that he had thought the same thing himself.

Hell, drugs and madness were the only logical explanations for him not to remember being intimate with Quincy, although his ass certainly remembered it, his cheeks and anus even now tingling with nostalgic heat and pleasure.

Zack evaded Quincy’s outstretched arms, walked to the king-sized bed and searched for something to put on. He found his shorts tangled in the sheets at the foot of the bed and quickly donned them.

“You’re not thinking of leaving now, are you?”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had no choice. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be too tempted to stay and repeat what they’d done last night.

Would that be such a bad thing?

Yes, damn it, when you don’t remember what already happened!

Zack almost sighed with relief that the voice in his head belonged to him and not the haunting voice of his sister.

He stood up from the bed to search for his clothes only to have Quincy hand him a hanger with his pants on them and his socks neatly rolled up.

“Thanks.”

“Your shirt and jacket are on a hanger in the closet.”

Zack didn’t say anything, just sat down and pulled on one sock before Quincy sat on the bed beside him and stopped him from going any further.

“Stay and take a shower with me.”

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41

Zack grinned. “Trying to say I stink?”

“You smell like me and sex, so yeah. You stink so good. C’mon.” Quincy caught him by a hand and pulled him to his feet. “I want to get you wet and sudsy before you go.”

Christ, the man was irresistible when he turned on the charm like that and smiled.

But resist is what Zack had to do. He needed some space to sort this all out. He had to go.

Don’t go! Stay!

Zack gaped and pulled his hand free of Quincy’s. That had definitely not been his own voice. That had been Zara, bossy and desperate, but his twin nonetheless. “I have to go!”

Quincy frowned watching Zack dash through the room gathering his

clothes and practically donning them on the run. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing.” Zack slipped on his loafers, jerked on his jacket and headed for the door.

“Then why are you running out of here like you’ve seen a ghost?”

More like heard a ghost, Zack thought, and froze with his hand on the doorknob. He closed his eyes and made a conscious effort to slow his breathing.

What must Quincy be thinking of him? Probably that his lover from the evening before was either insane or an insensitive jerk and either description did not paint a pretty picture, at least not one Zack wanted to own or resemble.

“Zack, whatever’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it.”

Yeah right. Not likely. And
confirm
my madness? Count me out on that
one.

“I’ll have to catch up with you another time.”

“This isn’t over, Zack.”

Zack opened the door but not before the voice in his head echoed

Quincy’s sentiment:
I’m counting on it, big handsome.

* * * *

42

Gracie C. McKeever

Something he said? Morning breath? Fear of commitment?

Quincy recalled the horrified look on Zack’s face right before the other man left. He knew that Zack’s leaving was less to do with waking up next to a lover the morning after and more to do with betrayal and guilt. He was feeling a little of both himself and couldn’t understand why.

He and Zara hadn’t been lovers, only friends. She had been his closest friend, his best friend, but he only loved her like a sister, nothing more, so it wasn’t like he was cheating on her memory.

But he didn’t love Zack like a brother. He plain loved Zack—had loved him for a long time. He could see himself spending his life with him, in fact. The fact that he was able to admit this to himself and use ‘love’ and ‘Zack’ in the same sentence should have been a warning signal for him to back off. It certainly seemed to be a warning for Zack.

Maybe that’s why the younger man had hightailed it out of Quincy’s suite.

He’d seen the look of possession and need shining out of Quincy’s eyes and decided it was too much too soon.

Damn how the mighty had fallen.

He’d been a high-roller on the Street not more than three years ago, wheeling and dealing and commanding respect from billionaires twice over. Even out of the game, he still raked in the bucks and admiration from associates and peers working as a freelance financial consultant.

No more seven-to-seven grind. Quincy called his own shots, was his own man in every sense of the term…except where his love life was concerned. Where his love life was concerned Quincy had turned into a mushy puppy looking for romance in all the wrong places, or completely shutting his emotions down and not looking at all.

Shit, he was pathetic. No wonder Zack had run out on him.

Yet, Quincy had to know for sure. He hated making assumptions and second-guessing himself. He had to know what was between him and Zack and if it was worth pursuing. He had to find out why the hell Zack had run out on him.

He picked up his cell phone from the nightstand and flipped it open before he realized he didn’t have Zack’s cell number, only his home phone number. He
Zack and the Dark Shaft

43

was sure Zack hadn’t made it to his loft yet, though fast as the man was moving it might have been a possibility.

Quincy closed his cell and reclined against the headboard, plotting his strategy.

What he and Zack both needed was a little breathing room, not much, but just enough to give them some perspective, a few days maybe. He’d give Zack enough time to think about what had happened between them, enough time for him to start craving Quincy as he assuredly had last night, and then he’d make his move.

Quincy licked his lips at the idea of a pursuit, blood running hot and rushing through his veins like it used to when he caught the scent of a hot stock.

Once he wanted something and put his sights on it—whether it was an account, a stock or a person—Quincy eventually obtained what he was after.

And he most definitely had his sights set on Zack Benjamin.

44

Gracie C. McKeever

“Quince, there’s something I have to tell you. I think I’m possessed by the spirit of my dead sister.”

Nothing. No response, just dead silence.

Zack wondered how silent it would be when he made his confession out loud in front of Quincy instead of alone and in front of his own bathroom mirror.

The idea of making such a confession to anyone, much less the man he cared for, had him more nervous than he’d been twelve years ago when he came out to his parents.

You’re not really thinking of telling him are you?

Zack closed his eyes intending to ignore the voice, knowing in the long run his efforts would be futile.

Over the last few days it had been increasingly difficult to keep his sister out of his head, out of his life. He had more success during the day after a good night’s sleep. But lately, even during the day, she pervaded every facet of his life.

She was with him when he woke up, with him in the shower, getting off when he got off, with him when he got ready for work, with him when he helmed his math classes at school, and with him when he came home after work.

Nights were the worst. The closer his mind moved towards sleep, the stronger his sister’s power and influence. It made him paranoid about going to sleep, wondering what she would do, where she would go when he wasn’t aware.

Where would the control end?

Zack, are you thinking of telling him?

“Like he would believe me?”

That, and it would just be a mistake to say anything.

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45

“Why? You think if I reveal my insanity I won’t be attractive to Quincy?

Or maybe Mom and Dad will have me committed and you won’t get another chance to be with him?”

Don’t pretend you don’t want the same thing I do. Don’t pretend you don’t
want to be with him as much as I do.

“Yes, but that’s different. It’s my body. You used it to get your swerve on and without my permission, I might add. I’m not going to let you do it again.”

You owe me.

Zack turned on the cold water tap, cupped some water with both hands and splashed his face, hoping to block out his sister’s insistent voice, her tone of…entitlement.

How was this happening? Who thought it would be a good idea for two far divergent souls to share one body with the same goal?

Fine, they both wanted Quincy, but they both couldn’t have him.

Who says we can’t both get what we want?

Zack wiped his face dry with one of the guest towels hanging on the rack before replacing it and stomping out of the bathroom into his bedroom. But he couldn’t escape the voice in his head, Zara following him like a hound on a scent.

Zack, you owe me this.

When she said it calm like that, her desires almost seemed reasonable, achievable. If she achieved what she wanted, however, where would that leave him?

How long was this co-existence supposed to last without him completely losing it? And what other type of damage was his supernatural roommate doing to him besides to his psyche?

You make me out to be some sort of molester or interloper, Zack. It’s not
that bad.

“Isn’t it?” He couldn’t believe he was having a regular conversation with someone who wasn’t there, someone who’d been dead almost a year. Maybe his serenity was a sure sign that he had resigned himself to the madness.

Look big brother, I didn’t ask for this. I’m a victim just like you.

46

Gracie C. McKeever

Zack didn’t think his sister had ever been a victim in her life. She’d always been too busy getting her way.

I resent that remark!

“Will you get out of my head!” God, did the woman ever sleep? Did spirits even
need
to sleep the way humans did? His sister was always up and around whenever he was and it made Zack wonder if she also slept when he did.

We have things to discuss, Zack.

“I know. You already mentioned something about me owing you?”

At least another chance to be with Quincy.

“How do you figure I owe you that?”

Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy every minute of being with Quincy that
night at the opening.

“I don’t even remember it!” Zack threw his arms up, pacing the room like he could get away from Zara, and raking a hand through his hair like this could extricate her from his brain.

Trust me. It was good.
He
was great.

“I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Don’t be this way, Zack. I’d do it for you. And it’s the least you could do
after I brought you two together.

“Who says we wouldn’t have gotten together without you hijacking my body?”

Oh please! I didn’t hijack your body. And you guys have been dancing
around your desire for each other for years and haven’t done anything about it.

“Ever think there’s a good reason for that?”

What? Trying to spare my feelings?

“We’re not all as…”

Go ahead and say it. You think I’m selfish.

“Zara, you’re my sister and I love you. But we all know how you…were.”

All right, fine. I get your point. You don’t have to remind me of what a bad
person I was.

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47

“No one’s saying you were a bad person, just—” Zack cut himself off when he saw Zara pouting in his mind, arms folded across her breasts as she flung herself backwards. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back on the sofa.

“What the—”

Zack! I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Zack shook his head and sprang to his feet, arms thrust out like an inexperienced ice skater on a frozen pond. He took two steps away from the sofa, testing his legs as if he expected them to go out from under him any second.

Are you okay?

“I think so.” He was shook up, heart pounding at the idea of losing his free will, losing his bodily functions to another consciousness even if that consciousness was his sister’s.

Zara had never exerted power over his body while he was awake. She communicated with him, intermittently buzzing in his head like an annoying fly throughout the day, but never had she been able to manipulate his body to the point of…flinging him. If she did have the ability, she’d never shown it before now.

What else could she do with his body? What else could she do to him, and without hurting herself in the bargain?

I’m still your sister, Zack. Just Zara. Not some ogre who wants to hurt
you.

“Fine, then leave me alone to deal with Quincy in my own way.”

I can’t do that. I don’t have much ti—

Someone rang the doorbell and Zack almost ran to answer it, glad for the break, until he opened the door and saw who was on the other side.

“I should be used to that just-seen-a-ghost expression on your face by now. I see it when you’re going and when I’m coming.”

“Quincy! What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” Quincy leaned in and pecked Zack on the cheek.

All Zack could do was accept it and step aside while the other man eased passed him into the apartment.

Zack closed the door, gaping when Quincy stopped in the middle of the living room and turned back to him. When he showed no intention of going 48

Gracie C. McKeever

closer, Quincy crossed the floor back to him. “If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain…” He firmly cupped Zack’s face with both hands and Zack shuddered at the electric tingles that shot through his body and Zara’s like vibrations echoing through him.