Second Sight (6 page)

With that, he removed his glasses and stared in her direction, his eyes two white orbs. Gasping, she found the sight frightening, but not disgusting. After a few minutes, she became used to it, and more intrigued than anything else. What had happened to him?

“You said there was an explosion,” she ventured.

“Yes. In the jungles of Guatemala,” he murmured, slipping on his glasses. “I’m aware of my appearance based on my little slideshow I get every morning if I stare into a mirror. It seems we’ve both had something we took for granted yanked away from us.”

She nodded, and considered their differences. Her scar could be hidden by growing her hair. However, when she saw it each morning, what it represented made her so furious—her loss of freedom, her loss of love. However, she could function.

Zach’s loss told a different story. She couldn’t imagine the hours and effort involved in learning the skills he had. Yes, Savannah had played a huge role, but the things he could do … it shocked her, and gave her a whole new respect for him, and for the blind.

“Your lack of eye coloring isn’t ugly.”

“And neither is what I’ve seen of you. So again, I apologize for this morning. I didn’t mean to offend, and I still stand by my statement. You’re beautiful.”

She sipped her wine, feeling the warm glow of acceptance slide over her.

They ate in peaceful silence for a few moments, and she allowed the last bit of stress she’d felt earlier to leave her shoulders.

The spaghetti tasted delicious, as did the garlic bread. She poured more wine into both of their glasses and jumped when the phone rang, breaking their comfortable silence.

“Excuse me,” she said, wiping her mouth and placing the napkin on the table as she stood.

“Of course.”

She walked into the kitchen and looked at the caller I.D. Rarely did she receive phone calls. Landy’s Laundromat popped up, and she braced herself as she answered.

“Hello, Joe.”

“Hello, Ella. How’s Zach? I take it you haven’t put a bullet into him yet?”

“He’s fine.”

“Excellent. I’d like to meet with both of you tomorrow. I’ll swing by around dinner time, if that works.”

As she shut her eyes, the stress returned. She hated how Joe still had such a hold over her, even after all this time. She’d come to terms that he didn’t love her; however, she couldn’t get past the anger it brought. “We’ll be here.”

Chapter 8

Zach woke the next morning to Savannah nuzzling his hand. It seemed she’d finally forgiven him for the bath the previous day.

He stretched and got out of bed, then counted the paces to the door, slid it open, and let her out. He inhaled deeply, the crisp morning air reviving him, and he dropped to the carpet for his morning exercise routine.

After completing it, he stood and went into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face then took a deep breath, wondering what visions the mirror would bring today.

He lifted his head, and the images started.

A wall of white rock stretching at least a hundred feet in the air. Another gun—the same one as before, if he wasn’t mistaken.  A turkey sandwich piled high with lettuce and tomatoes, a computer screen with a list of names on it and one of them highlighted, and a metal chair sitting in the middle of a concrete room.

That was it. He shut his eyes, committing it all to memory. He hoped that turkey sandwich proved to be something that would take place today, because it really looked good. The gun definitely happened to be the same one he’d seen yesterday, and the names on the computer screen meant nothing to him, but he memorized them anyway. Now, the metal chair in the concrete room certainly didn’t give him the warm and fuzzies—it looked like a place he would have taken a subject to be tortured if he had been asked to do that sort of thing when he’d been an assassin. He wished he could have seen the whole room so that he had an idea of its dimensions. How would the space play into his life?

As he showered, he also thought about the wall of rock. What would one do there? It would be terrible for target practice—a bullet could easily ricochet back and kill the shooter. Would someone be pushed from the top, or maybe jump? The more he thought about it, the more curious he became.

The thing about the morning visions remained that they often offered more questions than they answered. He found it both irritating and exciting, because he never knew when the information he gathered would be useful.

Savannah came back in and he shut the door, then got dressed in black jeans and a red t-shirt. He pulled on his boots and then slid on Savannah’s halter that he hadn’t replaced after getting her in the bath yesterday.

They walked into the kitchen, and he heard the coffee brewing.

As he waited for it to complete, he thought about the previous night. After the phone call, Ella had informed him that Joe would be joining them later today. The man certainly had an effect on her. Anger had practically radiated off of her after she’d spoken with him. He wondered what their history had been, what Joe had done to bring out such a visceral reaction in her.

After the phone call, she’d retired to her bedroom for the rest of the night, which had disappointed him. He had hoped they could continue their conversation, but it wasn’t meant to be.

He poured a cup of coffee and heard Ella’s bedroom door open, so he pulled down another mug.

“Good morning,” he said as she entered the kitchen.

“Hi.”

“Coffee?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out her milk, then added it to her drink.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“It was okay.”

“You seem a little stressed, Ella.” Apparently, the feeling hadn’t left her since last night, which had probably also led to her bad night’s sleep.

She sighed. “Joe does that to me. I hate it that he does, but he gets me riled up.”

Again, he wondered about their relationship. Could it simply be a tense working association, or had there been something else?

“That’s why I’m going rock climbing today before he gets here. It relaxes me.”

He grinned. The wall of rock. “Great. I’ll go with you.”

After a beat of silence, she spoke. “Zach, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Isn’t it dangerous to rock climb without a spotter?”

“That’s one of those things you say where I don’t know whether to be offended on behalf of blind people everywhere or laugh.”

He chuckled. “Oh, just laugh. It’s okay. However, I really do want to go. I promise not to be a burden or to get in your way.”

“Zach—”

“Please?”

As she sighed, he knew he’d be going with her. “I’m just getting a little cabin fever being in this house all the time. It’ll be nice to get out.”

“Okay.” She set down her coffee cup. “We’ll leave in about an hour.”

Chapter 9

Ella reached for a ledge with her left hand and pushed with her right foot. She studied the wall above her, looking for her next handhold.

She’d climbed about thirty feet, and had another twenty to go before she reached her goal.

Today, no one joined her on the rock, which was fine with her. She loved the solitude the climb gave her, the way she held complete control over what her next move would be. No one told her what to do, how to do it, and when to do it, unlike her life. Joe’s presence always hung above her head.

She also loved the way her muscles clenched and worked as she climbed, and the concentration it required to scale the face of a massive rock. She needed to look a few moves ahead to see where she’d be placing her hands and feet—the sport did not allow for error or hastiness.

She glanced down and saw Zach below, walking around with Savannah. After she finished her climb, he had said he would like to try. She’d argued, but then finally relented. If the guy wanted to climb, who was she to stop him?

Gripping her next handhold, she pulled herself up, her foot landing properly on the two-inch piece of rock as she had intended.

While climbing, she often wondered what it would be like to die. To simply forget her safety harness and climb up a hundred feet, then just let go. Would she be afraid? Would she regret her decision as she fell to the hard ground below? She considered it, but she also knew she’d never go through with it—she didn’t have the guts.

Zach had turned out to be quite interesting. Good looking, very intelligent, and incredibly resourceful—she couldn’t help but admire him. He’d taken his disability and overcome it. Yet, she couldn’t seem to get past a stupid scar on her face and what it represented.

As she pushed and pulled, making her way up the face, the tension left her body despite the tightness in her muscles and her sore fingers as she considered her next move. Hopefully, the calm feeling she possessed as she scaled the rock would last when Joe came over tonight. She hated the way she reacted to him, hated the anger he brought forward within her, hated the woman she could be around him.

At some point, she needed to believe she was better than that.

Zach sat at the dining room table, his muscles begging for some ibuprofen, yet, he found himself happy and very content, and possibly addicted to rock climbing.

Go figure.

He sipped his wine and petted Savannah while waiting for Ella to emerge from her shower. The day had been fabulous.

Ella had hooked him up in the safety gear, and he’d eagerly taken on the challenge of climbing the face. With her direction, she said he’d made it about half-way up. He’d loved the utter concentration necessary as he moved, the breeze against his skin, the feeling of being above the ground. Frankly, he’d also appreciated the danger involved. It had been a long time since his adrenaline had pumped through him at such high levels, and he’d relished the buzz.

As he’d climbed, his admiration for Ella had also grown. He’d never considered the sheer strength involved in the sport, and he imagined Ella could overpower him, if she were so inclined.

After his descent, Savannah had jumped up on him, obviously worried for her master. He’d thanked Ella profusely for the experience, hoping it would be something he could do again in the near future.

He heard Ella’s bedroom door open, and she padded into the dining room.

“Are you hungry?” she asked as she brushed by him, the light smell of lilacs tickling his nose.

“Yes. Why don’t we order a pizza or something?”

She pulled open the refrigerator. “No, I’m thinking turkey sandwiches.”

He grinned, glad that vision was about to come to fruition. “It sounds wonderful. Will you be having wine tonight?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I think I’m going to need it.”

He stood and felt along the tops of the chairs until he found the wine rack. He pulled a glass for her, as well as another bottle of what he hoped would be red and the corkscrew, and then made his way back to his chair.

A few minutes later, Ella came into the room and he heard her set a plate down in front of him.

“It’s nothing fancy—just turkey, lettuce, tomato and mayo. I also brought out some Doritos.”

He hadn’t seen the Doritos in the mirror this morning, and his howling gut let him know it definitely was on board with the idea.

As he took a bite, he couldn’t help but grin. The sandwich proved to be as delicious as it had looked.

“I saw this sandwich in my visions this morning,” he said after he swallowed.

“Seriously? You saw images of a turkey sandwich?”

He chuckled. “Yes. And it is exceeding my expectations. In the vision, it looked amazing, but the taste is astounding.”

Ella laughed, a light, airy sound that didn’t match her dark demeanor, and he realized it had been the first time he heard it. “I can’t believe you saw a turkey sandwich. That just seems so … silly.”

He shrugged. “Yes, but it’s delicious, and I thank you for making it for me.”

“Of course.”

He reached toward her and laid his hand on the table, his palm open. “Thank you again for also taking me today, Ella. It was an exhilarating experience, one I’ll never forget. I really appreciate it.”

After a moment, she laid her hand in his, and he gently squeezed.

The energy in the room changed, and a sort of electricity cascaded through him. Her skin felt soft, except for her rough fingertips, courtesy of the rock climbing.

Good God, was the front of his pants getting tight?

“You’re welcome,” she whispered, and he wished he could see her face.

He had the urge to pull her toward him, to feel her lips on his. He drew her image from his memory and longed to take her face in his hands and passionately devour her mouth.

Should he try? Should he even be considering it? Ella, although beautiful, came with baggage, a weight he didn’t understand. What would her reaction be?

The more he considered the idea, the better it sounded. If he didn’t try, he’d never know.

However, it seemed that fate had other plans, and the doorbell rang.