What's next?
“So? Are you going to explain?” Ben reached out and grabbed my arm before I could finish putting my shirt on. “You owe me at least that.” He wasn't really angry, but I could feel the frustration in his voice.
“I'm sorry,” I began, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Things have been happening so fast, I haven't had a chance...”
“I don't want an apology,” he interrupted. “I just want to know what's going on.” His voice was calmer but his eyes were pleading.
“I didn't want to worry you,” I admitted, sitting on the side of the bed and taking his hand. “I don't even know where to begin. But I suppose it really begins with the dreams I started having right after your accident.” I struggled to calm my own mind and give him as complete an account of everything that had been happening at the cottage, in my dreams, at work, and with mister Bouchard, as I could remember. He only interrupted occasionally to ask for details. When I finally reached the occurrence we had both just experienced, I fell silent and waited for his response.
After a few moments, he simply said, “I see. So what's next?”
“What's next?” I asked in disbelief. “How should I know? I mean I understand parts of it, but there's still so much I can't see.”
“Nonsense!” he countered. “You have almost the complete picture, and you know exactly who to ask to fill in the blanks.”
“Who?” I asked, puzzled.
“Mr. Bouchard, of course. Isn't that obvious?”
“But I told you, he doesn't speak.”
“Maybe he doesn't talk out loud, but he's been talking to you non-stop since before you rented his house.” He gave me a moment to consider this before adding, “Don't you get it? He has been telling you his story in all those dreams. He's the unseen presence you first felt at the center of everything, the one who restrained the spirit that was trying to attack you. I don't know who he is, but he is clearly a powerful psychic of some sort and he knew you were coming. From what you've told me it seems that spirit is really after him, and Mr. Bouchard is reaching out to you for help.”
I was stunned. He hadn't said anything I didn't already know, but he had managed to piece it all together with a clarity that had eluded me up to this point. “Why couldn't I see that?” I wondered out loud.
“Because the spirit was distracting you,” he said simply.
“Distracting me?”
“Don't think I don't know how horny you've been since my accident,” he grinned. “I've seen you ogling every pair of pants you lay eyes on over the last two weeks.”
“I...well, I guess.” I think I must have blushed a little, because he gave me a peck on the cheek. “Was I really that obvious?” I demurred.
“Kind of,” he chuckled, “But I have a piece of the puzzle that I never got a chance to share with you.” He drew a preparatory breath before explaining. “I suppose at this point this is more of a confession that a revelation, but remember that dream I told you to ask me about?
“Vaguely, why?”
“It was Mr. Bouchard. I didn't think much of it at the time, but from what you've just told me I think he was reaching out to me for help keeping you safe.”
“What did he tell you? Did he speak?”
“No words, just images and feelings. That night I dreamed, at least I thought it was a dream, anyways, I thought I woke up to find him sitting in his wheelchair beside my bed. He lifted his head to look into my eyes and I could see them, the black tendrils that surrounded him, always searching for a weakness in his defenses. He didn't seem afraid, just very tired, but he did seem afraid for you. His focus moved to one of the shadow arms extending from him and I knew the other end of it was attached to you.”
“Why didn't you say anything?” I asked urgently.
“Because I thought it was a dream and nothing more.” I harrumphed as he continued. “Anyways, once he had shown me this tendril, he reached a hand over and laid it on my legs. At first I felt the same pain I had felt earlier, but soon it became a soft glowing warmth, which extended up until it reached my balls. Suddenly, much to my surprise, I had a full on boner. It felt so good just to be hard, and it made me think of you. And then I knew, I just knew. The shadow was doing something similar to you. It was amplifying your desire, making you so horny you couldn't think clearly.”
“Well, I must admit, I have been a little distracted.”
“A little?” he chuckled, “Like I didn't notice you giving nurse Cecily a raging hard-on that day. But that wasn't you, it was the spirit using every man around you to keep you off kilter. Mr. Bouchard seemed to suggest that if I could somehow satisfy your sexual needs the spirit would have a more difficult time staying attached to you, so...”
“So you started making plans for playtime, even if it was painful.” I leaned over and kissed him again. “ My hero.”
“Honestly, I just thought it was a dream, nothing more, or I would have warned you.”
“Of course,” I soothed. “I understand.”
After a moment of silence Ben returned to his initial question. “So, what's next?”
“Yeah, this has gotten a bit out of hand, hasn't it?”
“You think?” His hand quickly darted to my still bare chest and tweaked a nipple hard. “Time to stop thinking with you dick and go talk to Mr. Bouchard.”
I recoiled reflexively, brushing his had away. “Well that's not the way to get me to stop thinking with my dick.” and I lunged forward to wrestle with him for a moment. When the laughter had subsided, I asked, “Seriously, how can I talk to a man who doesn't speak?”
“He's already shown you,” Ben chided, “And so has Sabina.”
I thought for a minute before recognizing what he was suggesting. “You mean...?”
“Just do it!” he insisted, beginning to push me off the bed. “But finish getting dressed first. While I might enjoy watching you walk the halls of this place naked, I think the staff might have a different opinion.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
