Her Imaginary Lover

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2014 Doris O’Connor

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-881-6

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry
Designs

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All
names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my hubby/Sir, with thanks
for your never ending support, and the long dog walks during which inspiration
strikes.

As ever thanks to my awesome
editor
Karyn
,
and
Evernight
Publishing for
giving a home to another one of my stories.

HER
IMAGINARY LOVER

Doris O’Connor

Copyright ©
2014

Chapter One

"It wasn't
me. It was Johnny. It was. He's being naughty on purpose. He doesn't like it
here."

The little
girl's pleading voice made Macie smile in remembrance. The youngster's parents
seemed less amused.

"Stop that
nonsense now. If I've told you once I told you a thousand times, he's just a
figment of your overactive imagination. Now apologize to the lady for what you
did."

"It's all right,
really." Macie was quick to intervene. The girl sounded on the verge of
tears
as it was, and apart from a few splashes of lukewarm
cocoa over Macie's hand no harm had been done. "It was an accident. They
happen. Please don't worry about it."

"That's
very kind of you to say, Miss, but Angelina does this all the time. I'm sick
and tired of her blaming it on other people. She needs to own up to her
responsibilities."

Angelina started
to cry, and Macie's heart broke a little for the girl, especially when she
whispered, "I'm sorry. Johnny didn't mean to hurt you, Miss."

"Angelina
Robertson!"

Macie flinched
inside. How often had she heard that exasperated tone from her own mother when
she herself had been growing up?

"I'm sorry,
Miss. We're leaving, and taking this unruly daughter of ours with us. Why do
you have to ruin everything, Angelina? This needs to stop. That friend of yours
is not real. Maybe we need to take her back to that shrink. This isn't normal,
is it? It's…"

The aggravated
voice faded away as Angelina and her parents left the coffee shop, and Macie
took a deep calming inhale of her latte. Little did Angelina's parents know
that Johnny
had
been
there.
Macie had sensed the presence of the lanky teenage
boy who kept poking little Angelina in the ribs, and had eventually sent her
cup of cocoa flying.

It never failed
to amaze her how clueless grown-ups were. Her own parents hadn't believed Macie
either.
Kaylom
had become her little secret. The
friend whom she cuddled into at night when she'd had enough of the nasty taunts
that had been thrown her way all day. Children were cruel, and they picked on
Macie's disability.
Kaylom
was always there, guiding
her, keeping her company and making her laugh.

Until the day
she'd told him to leave.

"You're not
real. Go away, and leave me alone."

Macie winced,
recalling that fateful day. She'd been fourteen, and her parents had become
increasingly concerned about her
unhealthy attachment.
Plus, Macie had
thought herself in love.
 
Brian had been
the new guy in school, two years older and oh-so-charming, and he'd shown her
special attention.
Kaylom
hadn't liked it, and in a fit
of the devil-may-care, she'd told her imaginary friend to stuff it.

The fact that he
had just disappeared had made her doubt her own sanity.
Especially
as Brian had turned out to be the biggest douchebag ever, when she'd refused to
go any further than heavy petting.

"Damn
frigid cow. I was only with you because of a bet. Who'd
wanna
be with the likes of you anyway?"

As much as the
whole thing had hurt, Brian had done her one favor. She'd sworn off boys and
had thrown herself into her studies instead. Having flown through high school
and college, she'd graduated from University with honors, and was now a sought
after child psychologist in her own right.

As such she took
a very different approach to childhood imaginary friends, especially when she
sensed there was a
real
friend involved.
At least real
to the child, just like
Kaylom
had been real to her.
Sometimes those friends weren't benevolent. She had dealt with many an evil
presence in her consulting room, and just remembering the latest case made the
hairs on her arms stand on end. The poor child had witnessed the murder of her
parents by her brother's own hand, and she was utterly traumatized. Ava had
confided in her that this
friend
had
turned her brother against her parents, and that he wanted her to commit
horrible things, too.

Through hypnosis
Ava was slowly gaining the courage to withstand the insistent probing in her
head. Unfortunately it wasn't just a case of telling the presence to simply go
away, like it had been for Macie. It had made her think more and more about
Kaylom
lately.

Macie sighed and
took one last swallow of her coffee. It was time to go home. Being maudlin about
past times wouldn't help her now. It was getting late, and this wasn't the best
neighborhood to be walking along when it got dark.

Grabbing her
stick she carefully negotiated the narrow walkways and pulled the collar of her
jacket up higher. A fine drizzle was in the air, the sort of rain that soaked
you through to your skin no matter what you wore. At least it meant there weren’t
that many people around, and it made getting about easier. Macie picked up her
steps when a cold breeze blew under her long skirt. She sensed someone behind
her seconds before rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her
away. Her stick clambered to the floor, and her scream for help died on her
tongue, when a beefy hand on her throat cut off her air supply. Her assailant
towered over her, and Macie fought the rising bile and panic as his alcohol-laced
breath blew along her jaw.

"You scream,
bitch, and you're dead. Fancy piece of ass you are. Has your momma not told you
to not walk alone?"

"She's
gonna
pass out. Ease up a bit, bro. I rather want her
conscious when I fuck her brains out."

No,
God, no.
                                                                        

Macie renewed
her struggles when the pressure on her throat lessened somewhat, and she drew
big gulps of air into her lungs. A futile kick and punch hit thin air, and the
two men intent in doing her harm laughed.

"Feisty, I
like it. Hold her still while I sample the goods."

Macie tried to
turn her head away, but all she achieved was being slammed into the wall with
so much force that she saw stars. Pain radiated from the back of her skull
along her spine right down to her toenails, and she gagged when a thick, male
tongue pushed past her lips.

She bit down
hard, and despite the disgusting stench of blood filling her mouth, she
rejoiced at the grunt of pain her attacker made.

"Fucking
bitch bit me." A fist made contact with her jaw, and Macie's head spun
round forcefully. Another set of hands ripped her jacket and blouse off her,
and cool air hit her bare stomach. Macie fought for her life, but her punches
proved ineffective, until there was an almost inhuman growl, and suddenly she
was free.

Macie fell to
the ground hard, and lay there panting for breath, as the world spun and she
lost the contents of her stomach. The sickening sounds of fighting seemed too
loud in the quiet around her, and eventually she managed to scream.

"Help.
Help. Help
us!"

Someone kicked
her, and then a body flew through the air and hit the wall.

There was more
shouting and then the sounds of feet running away and a pain-filled grunt right
next to her, as someone fell on her feet. The coppery smell of blood invaded
her senses, and she screamed louder, desperate for help, as she groped blindly
and encountered smooth, hard muscle, and naked skin.

Whoever had
rescued her was naked.
Naked?
Naked and injured.
Her hands found the hilt of a knife, and
then the sticky evidence of blood that coated her fingers.

"Oh, God,
are you all right? Did they stab you? Talk to me, please."