What the Heart Wants

It was happening again. How did they keep finding her? She had been so careful this time, she’d thought. Yet, here she was once again fleeing for her life from their wicked, jagged grins. As they scented the fear on the air and joined each other in hot pursuit of their favorite quarry. A fresh victim. She could almost feel their heated, putrid breath on her calves. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood erect in stark contrast to her goose flesh. “Faster. FASTER!, “ her mind screamed as her legs instinctively obeyed, pumping to elude the greedy, snarling jaws. This was a race they were too familiar with. As always, at the moment when she felt the initial contact, she was jerked from the blanket of dark unawareness, sitting bolt upright in the twisted sheets and relative safety of her bed. Still unconscious, Bryan reaches over to gently rub Nastashia’s leg to quiet her movement & murmuring… knowing that this was yet another in a series of bad dreams. “You’re okay babe… it’s just another dream, “ he murmurs while flopping to face the other direction, absently continuing to rub and pat her leg. Even through the foggy haze of half wakefulness, Nastashia began nursing her growing anger, tinged with palpable fear and the usual disgust. Of course she knew it was only a dream, she wasn’t stupid after all. She knew that there were no wolves with gaping jaws, jagged teeth and narrowed eyes stalking her or watching her from the shadows of the room. Not anymore. But they had been real. Once they had chased her, caught her and ravaged her, completely. Once. Her bewilderment stemmed from the terror of her own creations in her memory and the word ‘once’… that kept repeating over and over in her mind. Once. Why only once? Why would she even desire such a fate? Was she losing her mind? To be pursued and captured by such a vengeful apparition… Apparitions. They haunted her for almost 15 years, laying waste to most of her attempts at happiness, wholeness, mental stability. Each time she got within reach of sharing her life with someone… the dreams would start again, at times making her doubt her sanity. Once. Only once. It wasn’t truly the four-legged devils that lined the outer fringes of the dreams that caused her spine to tingle in trepidation. As formidable as they were, they appeared suckling pups in contrast to their menacing (foreboding) master. She would choose to deal with them a hundred times over, rather them than him. With his tall lithe body and hooded eyes surveying her she felt the virgin ready for unholy sacrifice. Nastashia never imagined the sacrifice would be a carnal one instead of the immortal kind she’d thought she had feared… in retrospect, the eternal was more appealing than this disjointed and misplaced longing she now could not control for a wraith of a man who had haunted her for more than 15 long years. Usually to be haunted, the person had to be deceased, but the specter that walked the dark recesses of her mind was all too real. Flesh and blood. Alive. And lost to her. Perhaps that was why the ‘once’ haunted her. Why would he only want her once? Why couldn’t he have kept her? The torture had been so sweet, the kind that binds irrevocably and decays to lay waste to all attempts to be free again. Once. As if on cue, Bryan’s wandering hand found the recess it had sought all along and she happily abandoned her brooding and troubled thoughts to the chaotic swirl of sensations taking over her body. The whirlpool spun faster and louder until it crested to drain at the apex where the splendid sensations had begun. Mindless in her passion, she almost missed the fact that her body had been invaded. Again, she was lost inside a growing crescendo rapidly racing to its own point of destruction that neither of them could see, yet both could feel approaching more and more quickly. To her increasing horror, her dreams were not only invading her sleep, they were melting over into her life… as she jerked open startled eyes to stare in horror into the gaunt face of the wolf master. Bryan knew instantly that something was wrong, even before he saw the vacant look behind her empty gray eyes. Gently attempting to shake her, thinking she was wake dreaming, he called her name to try to erase the lost look. Her fear was a palpable thing, but even through her deep tremors he could sense her arousal, the desire was a living flame of its own. Her own body betrayed her, melting around him, transforming him from the captor to the captive in an instant. As her body convulsed in some unheard acknowledgment of a command she never made, she heard his gasp turn to a groan as his full lips receded to frame his perfect teeth. Here she was again… her once was alive & happening. Again. Even though Bryan knew that it wasn’t himself she was seeing, he couldn’t bring himself to make her let him abandon the silky cavern that massaged him so seductively. He knew she wasn’t making love to him, wasn’t even aware he was there… but somewhere in his mind he battled to convince himself it was okay. This was his Sasha. His fiancé. His forever. Repeating to himself, “Everyone has dreams… I really don’t care”. But he did care. He wanted her to melt that way for him, to see the look of surrender and longing she now had & know that only he could supply what she needed. With the intensity of his thoughts hampering him, he didn’t notice that she had turned away to softly whimper into her pillow. Had he been too rough with her, had he hurt her? Taking her by the shoulders, he shook her gently. When she met his crestfallen gaze, her eyes were awash with unshed tears, and so remorseful his own heart broke from the outpouring waves of pain. He gathered her to his chest & gently began to rock her while stroking her hair. Her senses broke, and she wept violently, clinging to him in near desperation. As the storm abated into sniffles & hiccups, his mind raced and fear began to also stalk him. Fear of uncertainty. He gently queried, “How can I help you, if you don’t let me in?” What the hell was wrong with her, and how could he fix it if he didn’t even know where to start? A while later, glancing across the table at Nastashia, Bryan knew he had to at least try to address the issue they both were avoiding, as much as he hated to collapse her fragile hold on civility. Clearing his throat for the 3rd time in as many minutes, he winced when her surgical steel-colored eyes slashed him for the third time. There was no easy way to say something like this, no truly good time to debate it, so he may as well come out with it. At least in a moment, he would feel unburdened and a little lighter for the effort. “Sash, “ he started, using the nickname that only he called her. His pause was for effect only… he didn’t really care to see if he had her full attention, and certainly wasn’t going to look to see if she had turned those steely silver eyes on him. “I really think maybe you should… I mean, we should see someone about your nightmares, “ he finished catching his mistake too late to keep it from being released. And stammering over it, only drew more attention to the fact that he had said it at all… he groaned internally & made a mental note for future reference. Bryan Morrison learn to keep your mouth shut. “Are we back on that again?” she growled, rolling her eyes for effect. “I have told you that they are just dreams, “ she punctuated every syllable of each word emphasizing the fact that she herself was tired of this particular sentence… hell this conversation. “Even though they seem real, I do know that they aren’t, “ she rose from the table, hoping she effectively dismissed the subject from discussion. Missing the intended cue that the conversation was over, or better ignoring the blatant signs & posturing, he continued probing in the same wound. “I just think it would help if maybe a professional could prescribe something, so you can at least rest or sleep… maybe a counselor or hypnotist can figure out what is behind these bizarre dreams that affect you so violently.” Not allowing her to interrupt again, he waved his hand, saying, “it is not just about you anymore you know…. It’s damned impossible to keep ignoring whatever is going on with you. And this morning…” he halted, not sure what else to say about this morning. In truth he was still just as perplexed and confused as he had been, maybe more so at her abject attempts to downplay everything. “What happened this morning is exactly what we wanted to happen, Bryan. When we touch each other, it is inevitable, we both know that. It is probably what holds us together, “ she neatly interjected while making a b-line for the sink. Ending the conversation in terms that he could not pretend to misinterpret or not see. Undaunted, he followed in hot pursuit, swinging her around so swiftly the contents of the bowl splattered both their clothing. She scowled at him, opening her mouth to chastise him, but finding it difficult with is fingertips intently pressed over her lips. At his entreating gaze, she held her peace to await the words to come that she did not want to acknowledge. “What happened this morning, Sash? Babe, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on with you, “ he paused but returned his hand to her mouth when she drew breath to speak & he recognized the same look that went with the words he had known would ride on that breath. Turning away in total frustration, his tone cut her reply short. “And don’t tell me… it was nothing! That it was just the dream that had you upset. I know there is more to it than that!” He exclaimed as he turned his back refusing to witness her reaction to his impassioned, out-of-character outcry. Sasha stood rooted to her spot, open-mouthed in shock of the raw emotions he had lain bare for her sake. “Bryan, “ she choked out, not knowing what to say next… since he would not accept her stock answer. The one that was equivalent to a chaste kiss on the forehead & a pat on the ass to placate him; all the while shooing him along on his way. For several tense moments they simply stared at each other, neither knowing what was to come next because neither would concede to give the other even an inch. Eyes locked in a battle, neither of them seemed willing to relent… on this morning. Silently she prayed he wouldn’t ask the one question she could feel coming. Although he did not know all the intricacies or details of the dreams, he knew enough to know that parts of it were terrifying, parts were erotic and parts he knew little or nothing about. And the person who at least knew all the details (if not the answers) & specifics was not willing to share what she did know. He had no idea this dream was rooted in reality, that the basis of the specter that mentally ravaged her was a real flesh and blood being. One that she knew well once upon a time. So he could not understand her waking terror or the insomnia which often overtook her life, so he decided to ask the question that he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to. The question she could not successfully hide in her eyes, the one that she never wanted to hear him utter. “So Sasha, “ he paused, choosing his next words cautiously, “just who were you making love to this morning?” he finished, leaving the question to land there between them like an invisible yet very tangible barrier. He saw the breath seep out of her, her whole composure going slack… he almost braced himself to catch her from a swoon, but she only allowed her shoulders and lids to droop shut to hide the truth of the answer she would not offer him. If only closing her eyes could banish the awful truth from her mind, yet she knew it was still there & that he would see that she hadn’t revealed everything. Bryan would see the truth of whatever she did say shining to the depths of her stormy gray eyes. “Bry, “ she stammered, daring to glance at him from under her fringed lashes, unsure for once what to expect. Never had she seen him so undone, fraught with so much apprehension and raw emotion. How could she say this? She had to soften the blow. Make it go away, she could not hurt him this way… he may not recover, they may not survive it. Physically faithful, yet an emotional adulterer…how had she come to this? “Yes Sasha… I know you remember my name right now, but who were you making love to this morning?" "You didn’t even see me. I was here, but you weren’t. Who is he, Sash?” He pleaded with his eyes, his voice, even his very posture, reaching out for reassurance. Reassurance he would not find here or from her. He was only hoping she would help him to understand, to trust him with the truth. The truth only she knew. She would not. “Bryan, I don’t know what exactly you mean, “ she started methodically, “ we made love this morning” she continued as she turned away to busy herself at the sink. You & I. I don’t know why you insist upon this Ludacris idea that…” she stopped, finally noticing that Bryan had given up the battle and retreated completely to another room. She knew that it had not worked yet again. She knew that soon, she would be forced to confess the truth to him or risk losing him anyway. She wanted to go to him, to hold him, to reassure him. To bolster him against the pursuing doubts, because truthfully there was no other man she desired to spend the rest of her life with. Bryan was the definite end of her search. There was no more perfect mate for her than him, and she’d thought she’d told him… but she had to be sure that he knew. Even while holding to this truth, she knew there was another side to it. While Bryan was a skillful lover and absolutely held her heart, somewhere in the deepest recess of her mind she desired a former lover she hadn’t yet released or forgotten. Albeit briefly, but he had been real and her mind and body cried out for him, still. Her heart belonged only to Bryan, but the rest of her craved something, someone else. And she had to stop this bizarre obsession before it destroyed her carefully laid plans or the dreams she was cultivating in her real life. She had to find him, so she could bury him. She was going to kill her own ghosts and move on with her life. This had gone on for long enough, she would not lay any more sacrifices on this alter. Decision made. Determinedly, she sat at the computer and began to type furiously; knowing Bryan he would nurse his anger and then lick his wounds for a couple more hours before they could reconcile. Hell, he may even agree that they should stay at their own respective residences for a couple days just to drag out the reconciliation. That should be enough time to set things right. Game on. Running trembling fingers through her thick tresses, Sasha allowed the tangles to tug gently, assuring herself she was truly awake. She had found him. Now she knew exactly where she could locate Clint Westly. The internet was a dangerous place, you could find almost anything you desired to know about anyone. So now that she knew where he was, what was she to do?