Frankenstein In Love Read online

  “I warned you,” Kirk argued, and turned to the channel on the TV, seeing Tiffany’s face again. She was being interviewed by the press, and it was all about Reyna. He hurriedly lifted the remote to change the channel, but the doctor stopped him.

  “Wait, I’d like to see this.”

  “Doc…”

  “Shhh,” the doctor said, listening to the TV.

  Kirk tried to ignore it, but it reminded him of the day they were in Reyna’s hotel room. He tried to tune it out, but it was still there, her voice stabbing his brain like an ice pick. In desperation he pulled a pillow over his head, but it did no good. Finally, he picked up a magazine and saw her picture staring back at him. Losing control, he began throwing everything, and started for the TV when the doctor caught him and made him lie back down.

  “Now, Kirk, I don’t want to have to sedate you again. You know, if you’re a good boy you’ll be ready to go home in a couple of days. Are there any special arrangements you want me to make concerning who will pick you up?”

  “Elaine can drive me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t spare her. Too busy.”

  “All right, call Quinn.”

  “I’m afraid not. Quinn’s got other things to do.”

  Kirk frowned up at him, knowing something was up. “What in hell is this? So, you can take me!”

  “Kirk, I’m on call. I can’t leave the hospital.”

  “Cab?” Kirk said, frowning at him suspiciously.

  “On strike.”

  “Okay, so I’ll walk, damn it, but that…that…woman, that knows every dirty word in the English language, isn’t going to drive me anywhere.”

  “My, my, you’re awfully angry. You know, it takes a lot of anger to stay as mad as you have since you and Tiffany broke up. You should have gotten over it a long time ago. What did she do that was so bad?”

  Tears gathered in Kirk’s eyes. “Well, she…”

  “Did you get the whole story from Tiffany, or did you get it from someone who is a habitual liar? Or, maybe you just assumed you knew, right?”

  Surprised, Kirk looked up at him thinking about what he was saying and wondered if he’d been a fool—again.

  Chapter 21

  THE phone rang and Tiffany picked it up, recognizing the rasping voice of Dr. Wilder. “Tonight’s the night,” he said. “Kirk’s as ready as he’ll ever be. Get over here about midnight, dressed for the occasion.”

  Tiffany softly replaced the receiver, and noticed the time by the clock. A quarter to ten. Only two hours until she had to be at the hospital. She felt tempted to run out of the mansion, leaving Quinn high and dry, but she didn’t dare. She knew he would make good on his threat, and she couldn’t take the chance. She stared down at her baby doll and felt shameless. When she had tried it on at the store, it was alluring, sexy, but that was when her intention was to wear it for Kirk. Now, wearing it for Quinn made her feel cheap and tawdry. With a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, she ran a brush through her hair, and walked toward her bedroom door, and opened it. Like a zombie she walked through the shadowy hall to Quinn’s room.

  *

  When she stepped in, Quinn gasped when he saw her.

  “Oh, my God,” he whispered as he beheld her. “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her perfectly formed breasts that jutted out seductively within the soft flowery folds. They boldly flaunted themselves, so full and round and ready for his touch. He saw the perfect flow of her body that appeared to be smooth and soft underneath the shadowy folds of the garment. The delicate strings of the thong stretched along her hips, spreading the tiny delicate patch of material as if guarding the national treasure. And at last her long shapely legs, seductive under the dark, sexy fishnet hose, he knew would shortly be winding themselves around him. The fur on her shoes softly fluttered in the breeze as her feet moved toward him. He couldn’t wait for her to get to him, so he rose from the bed and with deliberate, but unhurried movements, he walked over to her. Grasping her shoulders, he gazed down at her soft feminine lines, and pulled her up to him. Hardly able to believe her beauty, he touched her lips with his. They were fragrant and soft.

  *

  Knowing she had to be responsive, Tiffany parted her lips, and could feel the hardness of his body against hers. A body she had once longed for. But that was before Kirk, and after Quinn’s true character came to light. She tried to keep from retching as his hands moved over her body, caressing her as if she were made of gold. She closed her eyes and thought of Kirk.

  “Love me, Tiffany, please love me.” He sighed, his face buried in her hair. Leaning over, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  “Turn off the light,” she whispered to him.

  “But I want to see you.”

  “Please.”

  He turned and clicked off the lamp.

  Tiffany felt better in the darkness. It was so complete, she couldn’t see her shadowy handler, but could imagine that the dark body that rose over her was Kirk. His hands were Kirk’s. His lips must be Kirk’s. His body had to be Kirk’s. Thinking of him, she began to get aroused. This man of shadows moved his mouth over her breasts, drawing on them. His fingers reached under the thong, pulling on it as he breathed heavily in her ear. His moans filled the room. She saw his silhouette move above her and force her legs apart. In the dark, her lips kept repeating, Kirk…Kirk…Kirk!

  *

  Meanwhile, down in the parlor, the big grandfather clock began bonging out the hour, and over in the lighthouse the witch was rasping out a spell, and gazing down into her crystal ball—

  “As the flame of desire builds within him, so shall the flames of madness blind him…

  Satan’s fire, blaze so bright, surround the evil with hellish light. Burn into ashes, turn into smoke fill his lungs, and make the bastard choke!”

  *

  All at once Tiffany’s shadowy partner jumped up. “Oh, my God!” he cried. “Fire! Fire!”

  Tiffany rose up and looked everywhere, but she didn’t see anything.

  Quinn began running around the room with a pillow trying to put out the imaginary blaze. Tiffany watched him as his demented gaze darted around as if he were seeing leaping flames everywhere. She saw him duck and fight the fire with anything he could get his hands on. All at once he grabbed his throat and began coughing as if the smoke was choking him. Reeling around, he ducked, and grabbed at his face as if he were in pain.

  While Tiffany watched, he ended his mad spree by falling on the floor, unconscious. She promptly went over and felt his neck, its gentle pulse against her finger assuring her he was still alive. Scrambling around, she picked up her coat and purse and ran out to the car. Slamming into it, she started the engine and burned rubber, dashing like a madwoman to the hospital. She didn’t notice until she got there how she was dressed. She hastily put on her coat and ran in. As soon as she found the doctor and Elaine, she told them about Quinn, and they rushed some paramedics out to him.

  The doctor took her arm and propelled her toward the cafeteria, and Tiffany finally began to calm down while gazing into a cup of coffee. “I’m sorry to get everyone so excited, but I don’t know what happened. Quinn seemed to go crazy.”

  The doctor’s voice was soothing, “Take it easy, Tiffany, and tell us what happened.”

  “Quinn found out about the book I wrote, and threatened to come to the hospital and tell Kirk about it.”

  “What book?” Elaine asked.

  “It’s Kirk’s story. You know, about his accident, living in the basement for all those years, and about his…”

  Elaine’s gaze flooded with horror.

  Tiffany looked at her. “No, Elaine, it’s not what you think.”

  “Quinn was right, all you wanted was a plot for a new book.”

  “No, Elaine. I want to help Kirk.”

  “How? By ripping open that same wound that put him in that black he
ll in the first place?”

  “Elaine, it wasn’t only his face he was hiding. He passed sentence on himself because of the death of his parents. That’s what put him there, and that’s what kept him there.”

  “Don’t you see, Tiffany? It goes hand in hand. He can’t reflect on one without remembering the other.”

  “I know, and maybe I’ve done the wrong thing, but it was done with love. I wasn’t trying to hurt him. If it does what I think it will, it will free Kirk.”

  “But what if it doesn’t? What if he has to walk around the rest of his life with people pointing at him as if he’s the freak he always thought he was? I told you when we first met that Kirk was a private person. He’s been locked up in that basement for so long, he’ll be like a babe in the woods out there. He won’t know how to deal with this.”

  Tiffany put her hands over Elaine’s. “I’m hoping to be there with him, to help him.”

  “But don’t you see? By helping Kirk, you’ll be killing Quinn. I can see it, Tiffany. It’ll happen. Your coming here has changed everything, and when you leave, one will be dead! The only question is…which one?”

  Tiffany watched as she whirled around and walked away. “Oh God,” she mumbled, “I hope I haven’t ruined everything.”

  “Don’t worry,” the doctor said, “Elaine is very protective of her brothers. Because of it she tends to get overly dramatic, spouting doom like she did just now. I can guarantee you she’ll be over it by tomorrow.”

  Tiffany was only half-listening to the doctor. She was remembering the morning only two weeks ago when she went to the widow, and the old woman’s reaction when Tiffany had innocently mentioned Venita and Quinn’s affair.

  She could hear the woman’s scratchy old voice. Quinn Kessler is doomed…he’ll pay…I warned him…he wasn’t to touch her!

  The remembered words gave Tiffany a chill, like someone was running the tip of an icicle down her back. She recalled the night in front of the fireplace when Quinn told her that the spell was supposed to kick in on the night of the next full moon, that was tonight—now.

  She knew now that Quinn’s mad ravings about a fire must have been the spell taking hold.

  Tiffany buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God, what have I done?” She turned to the doctor. “Elaine is right, that old widow…she…she’s going to…and it’s my fault…mine!”

  “Tiffany, nothing is your fault. If Quinn gets anything it’s only what he deserves.”

  “But don’t you see—”

  “Tiffany, you’re getting all shook up over nothing. Now, I’m the doctor here, and I insist you calm down. You’ve got a hell of a job ahead of you—”

  “No!” Tiffany barked. “I don’t…I just don’t know if I can go through with it—”

  “Not even for Kirk? Hell, Tiffany, don’t throw all your hard work away now. You…” Tiffany’s coat fell open, and Dr. Wilder’s word’s faded while his gaze grew wide and raked boldly down her body. “I know I told you to dress for the occasion, but this…well…”

  Tiffany noticed that her coat had opened, giving Dr. Wilder a front row seat to bouncing breasts. She looked up at him, watching sweat break out above his top lip as his heated gaze moved along every curve. She closed her coat with an embarrassed smile.

  Flustered, the doctor tried to change the subject. “What was this you were saying about some book?” he mumbled while taking out his handkerchief and wiping at his moist face.

  “Well, when Quinn found out about the book, he threatened to tell Kirk about it if I didn’t sleep with him. That’s why I’m dressed like this. He picked out this outfit for me to wear.”

  “That certainly sounds like Quinn. Thank God he didn’t get to Kirk with that bit of information, it would have been the end of him.” He paused a moment, and then continued. “How did you get away?”

  “Quinn went crazy. We were on the bed, and all at once he began yelling fire, jumped up, and ran around the room trying to put out imaginary flames.”

  “There was no fire, you say?”

  “No,” she said guiltily, remembering the blaze and flash of the sparks that came out of the old widow’s fireplace.

  Control is now in your hands, and there it will remain…I make that promise to you!

  “Tell me, was the act completed?”

  Tiffany didn’t answer right away, but when she realized the doctor was asking her a question, she said, “No, thank God.”

  “Tiffany, a man like Quinn…well, chances are he plans to tell Kirk about the book anyway whether you sleep with him or not. He’s bastard enough to hold it over your head and get what he can out of you, and when he’s through, he’ll tell Kirk everything. Even if the book incident doesn’t kill him, the fact that you two were together will. It’s just a guess, of course, but I don’t think you have any choice but to tell Kirk the first chance you get, and beat Quinn at his own game.”

  Tears began to gather in her eyes. “My God, what a mess.”

  The doctor covered her hand with his. “Don’t worry.” He indicated to her outfit. “With you dressed like that, a man could forgive anything.”

  “How does he look? I mean, with the—” she indicated her face, “with everything gone.”

  The doctor shrugged. “Just what you’d expect. Bruises mostly. Suture lines here and there. But the structure of his face is perfect. The doctor laughed. “Actually, for the most part, he looks like he just got beat up in a fight. And just like a fight, all the discoloration and lines will fade in time.”

  Tiffany felt sad.

  The doctor put his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, he’ll be okay. Beneath all the work that’s been done on him you can see what a handsome devil he is. The operation was a success, Tiffany. Kirk is a new man. A face like his doesn’t belong in a basement.”

  “No, it’s not that. I’m just thinking of the job I have ahead of me.”

  “What, making love to Kirk?” he said teasingly.

  “No, telling him about the book.”

  “I wouldn’t tell him about it tonight. You have other things to take care of tonight. The morning should be soon enough. We’ll work on him together.”

  “But it all seems so useless. Even if he comes around tonight, there’s tomorrow to deal with.”

  “Yes, but after a night with you he’ll at least be in a better mood. He has to be. If he isn’t, he’s not human.”

  Tiffany laughed softly. “Well, I know I’ve got you in the palm of my hand, Doctor, but I doubt it will work on Kirk.”

  “Don’t be so negative,” he said as they left the cafeteria and walked quietly to Kirk’s room. The halls were draped in shadows, the only light coming from the nurses’ station. There was a white-clad orderly pacing in front of Kirk’s door, waiting for his instructions.

  The doctor turned to Tiffany. “Let me go in first to check him over and see if he’s all right.” He gazed down at the outfit hidden by her coat, and said teasingly, “I wouldn’t want you to give him a heart attack or anything.”

  The doctor went in, leaving Tiffany to pace impatiently back and forth in front of the door. The orderly cut his gaze over to Tiffany, taking in the fishnet hose and furry four-inch heels. Tiffany frowned at him, careful to keep her coat closed. Finally, the doctor opened the door and motioned for Tiffany to come in. She stepped into the room that was shrouded in darkness. Only one small light was on, and Kirk seemed to be sleeping.

  “He’s not completely asleep,” the doctor whispered. “I gave instructions that he wasn’t to receive any sleep medication tonight, so he’s been tossing and turning. Any little thing will wake him.” He winked at her suggestively. “Any little thing,” he said, and indicated toward her risqué outfit.

  Tiffany nodded. “I understand.”

  “Tiffany, I hope you appreciate what I’m doing for you and Kirk. This is so much against hospital rules that if anything happens, it’s my neck.”

  “I do appreci
ate it, Doctor, but what about the orderly outside? How do you keep him quiet?”

  “Frank? Don’t worry about Frank. I’ve made it worth his while, he won’t talk.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Doctor. What can I do?”

  “Well,” the handsome doctor began as he scratched his head, “I don’t know. I guess if you’ll just name one of your children after me, that’ll be enough.”

  Tiffany smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. “My pleasure. I thank you, Kirk thanks you, and little Vincent thanks you.”

  “Little Vincent,” he repeated, sniffing as he turned and walked out.

  * * * *

  Tiffany stood in the dark room next to Kirk’s bed, gazing down at him while she pulled off her coat. His face was so perfect, she couldn’t believe it. She saw a magazine next to his bed and noticed that he had taken a pencil and scratched a large “X” across her face, tearing the picture with it. She reached over and clicked off the lamp, allowing the room to fill up with shimmering moonlight, and leaned down over him, kissing his soft lips. He moved a little, but didn’t wake up. She pulled the cover back and laid down beside him. “Kirk, I love you,” she whispered softly in his ear.

  Kirk turned toward her, his eyes closed. She was right up against him, welcoming his arm as it fell across her waist. She pressed her body against his, pulling his head down to hers, and kissing his lips as he slept.

  Kirk responded.

  His hands caressed her, and his lips explored, played, and nipped at hers until she thought she was going to cry out with delight. He moved closer, pressing her back against the mattress as he leaned his head down and kissed her neck, and moved it along her cleavage to her hardened nipples.

  “Oh, Kirk, Oh God, Kirk,” she whispered, becoming deeply aroused.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ve missed you so much…Thelma.”

  Tiffany’s eyes flew open, and she jumped up from the bed, and turned the light on. “Who the friggin’ hell is Thelma?”

  Kirk sat up, and with a mischievous smile, pointed at her and said, “Gotcha!”