Frankenstein In Love Page 24

“You bastard!” she yelled.

  “Yeah? What about you? Sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night. What in hell do you do, woman, go through life seducing men? You get a charge out of hopping from one bed to another?” He indicated her outfit. “And what’s that you’re wearing? Another one of those tiny little material-that-isn’t-there outfits that doesn’t cover anything?”

  “You’re criticizing an outfit that hypnotizes every man that sees me in it, and yet from you, nothing?”

  “Oh yeah? How would you know that, Tiffany? How many men have you worn it for, huh? How many men have you done your little number on, Tiffany? How many friggin’ performances do you give a night, anyway?”

  “Kirk, I didn’t mea—”

  “Get out of here, Tiffany, and don’t come back.” He angrily turned his back to her.

  Tiffany hesitated, and with a steely resolve decided it wasn’t going to end there. She gazed down at the torn picture on the bedside table. “So is this what you think of me?”

  Kirk turned back around, looked at the picture, and then at her. “You got it.”

  Instead of caving in, Tiffany worked hard to remember the pain he was in. Being injured, he fought it the only way he knew how, by trying not to care—by lashing out at her.

  Well, if I’ve got the name, I might as well play the game.

  Preparing to go into her performance, she reached down inside her purse and pulled out the small tape recorder that she took notes with, removed the tape that was in it, and replaced it with another. When the music started, she began parading around the room, feeling the music.

  “Turn that damned thing off, I’m trying to sleep,” Kirk snapped.

  “Well, I want to dance,” she said.

  He turned over and lunged toward the little recorder, but she grabbed it and placed it out of his reach.

  “Did I ever tell you that back in my college days I used to be a dancer? Yeah, I worked my way through college bumping and grinding.”

  “You told me your parents had money. Why the hell would you have to work?”

  “You know how parents are,” she said, wiggling her hips as she danced toward him. “They went on a crusade to teach their rebellious daughter the value of a dollar and took away all my credit cards. So, I became a dancer. Funny—” she leaned down close to him, “I was the most popular girl on campus.”

  Kirk whirled around, but she followed him. “This is a hospital, for God’s sake, Tiffany, not a strip joint.” He kept turning, trying to keep his back to her, but she was all over the room.

  Tiffany watched Kirk’s face. He tried to keep his eyes off her, but couldn’t resist cutting them over occasionally to watch her seductive movements. At every bump, his head would jump, and at every grind, he broke out in a cold sweat.

  He edged toward the bedside table and angrily grabbed at the phone. “Hey, what the hell kinda hospital are you running here?” He looked down at the phone when he realized the line was dead. Next, he jumped up and ran for the door, but it was locked.

  Tiffany danced up to him, swaying her hips in and out, and from side to side. She danced around him, rubbing herself against him, and began backing up toward the bed, motioning for Kirk to follow her.

  Kirk tried to turn away. “Where in hell is that damn doctor?” he said weakly. And when Tiffany began to undress, Kirk lost it, his eyes full of fire. He roughly grabbed Tiffany and threw her down on the bed.

  As Kirk fell on top of her, Tiffany gazed up at the shadowy ceiling of Kirk’s dark hospital room and submitted to his wild, untamed brand of love—her lips tugging upward in a mixture of ecstasy and triumph.

  Chapter 22

  THE next morning Dr. Wilder walked up to Kirk’s door and put his ear against it. Not hearing anything he unlocked it quietly, peered inside and saw Tiffany and Kirk lying in each other’s arms. He smiled, closed the door and locked it. Turning to the guard, he said. “I’ll give them another half hour before we get them up.” He indicated to the watch. “How’s it working?”

  “Good.” The brawny young orderly said with an innocent smile on his face. “Didn’t lose a minute all night.”

  The doctor walked away smiling and shaking his head. With everything that went on in that room last night, the only thing Frank was interested in was his new Rolex. If Frank was any indication, the future population of the world was in trouble.

  At that moment the doctor noticed Elaine rushing out of the elevator carrying some clothes for Tiffany. “I need Dr. Wilder, get Dr. Wilder!” she cried out to the nurse, and then turned and saw him. “Vincent, I couldn’t find Quinn anywhere. He’s disappeared.”

  “Elaine,” the doctor scolded. “We’re at the hospital.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, embarrassed as she gazed around to see who might have heard her. “I forgot.”

  “Now, what is this? Who has disappeared?”

  “Quinn,” Elaine said nervously. “When I got to the mansion I searched everywhere but he’s not there.”

  “So what? He’s probably just out, that’s all.”

  “His bedroom was in chaos.” She waited for him to respond, but when he didn’t she said, “Victor…Doctor, there’s something wrong, I just know it.”

  “Elaine, settle down, for God’s sake.” He turned her toward Kirk’s room. “Hurry and get Tiffany’s clothes to her, and I’ll check it out.”

  Elaine rushed off one way and Dr. Wilder another. He found the paramedics that were just going off duty and began to question them. They assured him they had searched the whole mansion and didn’t find anybody at home. They also confirmed that the bedroom was in chaos, but since no one was there, they had no choice but to leave.

  The doctor turned, hurried back to Kirk’s room and went in.

  “What’s wrong, Doctor?” Tiffany asked when she saw his worried face.

  “I’ve just come from Emergency. They tell me they didn’t find Quinn at the mansion last night, and they assured me they searched everywhere.” He indicated toward Elaine. “Elaine searched again this morning, and he’s still not there.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Kirk asked. “He’s just out, that’s all. He’s into investments and has business to conduct occasionally, he’ll be back.”

  Tiffany put her arms around Elaine. “Sure, that must be it. After all, Quinn isn’t exactly helpless, I’m sure he’ll show up later today.”

  Elaine nodded. “I guess so,” she said thinly, still worried.

  “All right,” the doctor said, rubbing his hands together, anticipating some fun. “Get yourselves up and get moving. Elaine and I are taking you both out to breakfast.”

  Kirk gave the doctor an angry glare. “Why, Doctor, I thought you were supposed to be on call today.”

  “Did I say that? He scratched his head. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with my head lately. I just can’t seem to keep my schedule straight.”

  “But, Doctor,” Tiffany said with a message in her eyes. “I had something I wanted to talk with Kirk about.” She lowered her voice, and cut her gaze over toward Kirk. “You know…privately?”

  While Kirk was busy with his preoccupation with his shoes and socks, the doctor took Tiffany’s arm and led her out into the hall. “Tiffany, I don’t know if you realize it or not, but you’re going to need someone with you when you tell him. This is an extremely volatile situation and has to be handled very carefully. If his temper flares again, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

  Tiffany frowned at him. “Doctor, you talk as if Kirk is dangerous.”

  “Tiffany, I assure you, he’s not dangerous to anyone but himself. He’s the type that flies off the handle easily, and I don’t think he’s going to take the news about your book too well. If there is an explosion, you’re going to need someone there to pick up the pieces.”

  “Really, Doctor, he may call me names and tell me to go to hell, but that’s as far as it’ll go.” Realizing he wasn’t convinced,
she said, “Okay, so we’ll do it your way. But I hate for you to waste your time.”

  “Nothing would make me happier than to be wasting my time at this point. Believe me, I hope you’re right.”

  Continuing their conversation as they were walking back in, Tiffany asked him, “But why are we going out? Why don’t we just go to the cafeteria?”

  “Please, Tiffany, the doctor said, frowning. “The coffee is bad enough, but the food is lethal.” With that he turned to the others, stretched out his hands, and said, “So…is everybody ready to go?” He directed his next question toward Elaine. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “A little cafe down by the landing.”

  *

  As they were walking out the door, Tiffany took Kirk’s arm and smiled up at him lovingly while remembering their beautiful night together, and wondering if it would be their last.

  The short ride to the High Coast Cafe was nerve-wracking for Tiffany. When they finally arrived and everyone was walking up to the door, something caught her eye and she stopped to read a headline.

  Erotica Writer, Tiffany Lovelace, tells story of Mystery Man.

  “My God!” she muttered to herself. “Don’t they have anything better to write about? Talk about a slow news day, where in hell are all the crooked politicians when you need them?”

  She immediately glanced ahead at the others, dug through her change purse, and grabbed a copy.

  When the foursome walked in, the doctor gazed around. “I don’t know, we might have done better at the hospital cafeteria. At least our deaths would have been easy.”

  “I’m sorry,” Elaine said, “but this is the only place open this early.”

  “Well, it has a nice view,” he said as they all turned and noticed the wall of windows that revealed the shining ocean, the only thing the little cafe had to offer. Turning to the waiter, the doctor ordered four Southern-style breakfasts, and a pot of coffee for the table.

  Once the order was placed, Tiffany caught the doctor’s attention, indicated to the paper, and handed it to him.

  He opened it and perused at it for a moment before he furtively slid his gaze over at Kirk. Elaine saw the headline over the doctor’s shoulder and angled her gaze toward Kirk as well.

  “What’s everyone looking at?” Kirk asked, snatching the paper out of the doctor’s hands.

  Tiffany spoke softly as she watched him scan the headlines. “Are you going to give me a chance to explain, or are you going to fly off the handle like you usually do?”

  After Kirk had read the blistering headlines, he began speaking with a soft turbulence building in his voice. “My God, I can’t believe it. You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me ever since I’ve known you.” He turned to her with fire in his eyes. “Quinn said you wanted a plot for a new book, but I wouldn’t believe him.”

  “Kirk, please. You don’t understand.”

  “I understand perfectly. You’ve been writing behind my back.” He shoved the paper in her face, and his voice rose. “Tell me, Tiffany, did you write this book like you did all the others? What did you do, spend the night with me, and go up and put it all down on paper? Were you careful to describe every kiss, every stroke, every moan, every groan? Did you describe in detail everything we did?”

  “Kirk, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “No? What in hell did you think it would do?”

  Tiffany cringed in her seat, never having seen Kirk so angry. She turned toward the other people in the restaurant, and smiled weakly at those who were looking their way.

  Kirk’s gaze glinted with unshed tears. “Tell me, Tiffany, did you tell the world how it felt to be fucked by a monster? Huh? Did you make it exciting? Those women reading the friggin’ book, will they want to know how it was in the dark with a Frankenstein?” He leaned down and yelled into her face, “Well, if they do, I’m sure you’ll tell them!”

  “Kirk, if you’d only listen—”

  “All right, so tell me.” He indicated to the others at the table. “Tell all of us. Did you leave anything out? Did you tell them what the monster was like in bed?”

  “Kirk, please—”

  “Did you describe a wild man, Tiffany? Did you tell them that I satisfied you like no man ever has before? Did you tell them how different it was with me than with a normal man? And I’m sure you didn’t leave out how you came down to the basement and seduced the poor deformed freak, huh?”

  Tiffany turned her face away from his, but Kirk grabbed her face and turned it back, forcing her to look at him.

  “Did you tell them that it had been so long since he’d had a woman that he went wild on top of you? Or maybe you told them how it felt to be all shut up in a cage with an iron door? Do you think the world wants to know how it felt when the scarred face kissed you, or when the freak was so grateful he told you he loved you? Oh yeah! I’m sure you didn’t leave anything out. I’m sure you and your readers will have a good laugh over that one, huh?”

  “Kirk,” Tiffany cried out, “you’re causing a scene!”

  “So what? Don’t you exist on publicity?”

  “What in hell did I do that was so wrong?”

  Kirk leaned into her face. “You exploited our relationship, Tiffany, and you lied to me. You know,” he said, forcing a chuckle, “I can’t wait to read this book. I want to read about the poor, pitiful monster who bought you a ring, and stupidly hid it inside a friggin’ Cracker Jack box for you to find.” With anger Kirk threw the ring down on the table in front of her. “Well, you should be damned proud of yourself, Ms. Lovelace. You’ve got fingers pointing at me from here to California. With your sexy little seductions you finally lured me out of my prison all right, but by writing this goddamned, fuckin’ book, you’ve just slammed the door shut on me again. What was it all for, Tiffany, just so you could write a bestseller? Didn’t you think someone might get hurt, or didn’t you care?” He jumped up from the table and comically took the form of a chimp and danced around. “Why in hell don’t you put a rope around my neck and lead me around like an ape? What should I do when the camera turns toward me? Dance a jig? Grunt like a gorilla?”

  “Kirk, for God’s sake, calm down! What in hell are you afraid of? You think it’ll be like this forever? Well, you’re wrong. It’ll die down before you know it, and you’ll just be another news item that’ll grow cold when something different comes along.”

  “It will, huh? Well, it won’t be soon enough for me!” he yelled as he reached for a chair and threw it across the room. Like a madman he took giant strides, turning tables over, angrily knocking place settings off the tables, and slicing his arm along a table of glasses.

  Tiffany started toward him, but Dr. Wilder stepped in front of her. “Tiffany, don’t. You’ll get hurt. Just leave him alone and let him battle it out. When his rage is spent, he’ll come back to you.”

  The few people in the little cafe stood up, cowering against the giant windows, watching him with as much awe as if watching a tornado. With measured movements, the manager edged his way toward the phone, but Dr. Wilder saw him, grabbed it and yanked it out of the wall.

  As he stumbled around Kirk knocked into the waiter with the tray of food, and everyone watched as four Southern-style breakfasts went flying through the air.

  While everyone was watching Kirk, from one corner of the little cafe, a man whisked out a camera, and a woman began writing something on a napkin. The two whispered to each other as they both headed for the entrance in the midst of a series of flashes.

  Kirk turned at the flash and saw the camera. He immediately stalked toward the photographer. The man managed to get one more picture with Kirk coming toward him before the couple turned and ran out the door.

  Tiffany started crying. “My God, what’s happening to him? He’s like an animal. I’ve got to go to him.”

  Before Dr. Wilder could get to her, she grabbed at Kirk. He spun around blindly and backhanded her, sending her ree
ling before she fell to the floor.

  *

  When Kirk saw what had happened, he shouted, “Oh, God! What have I done?”

  By that time a police cruiser with a screeching siren was there, but the commotion was over. They listened to several of the waiters relate what they saw, assessed the mess the place was in, and were about to cuff Kirk when the café owner decided to drop the charges.

  “Are you sure?” the first officer said. “You’ve got a lot of damage here.”

  “I was assured that it’ll all be taken care of, and that’s all I want.”

  “What about the lady there?”

  Dr. Wilder stepped in, and gave the man his card. “I’m a doctor—”

  “A plastic surgeon?” the officer said as he read the card. “Looks to me like she needs a real doctor.”

  “I beg your pardon, I am a real doctor.”

  The officer chuckled. “Yeah, sure, and the Dallas Cowboys all wear tutus.” He turned to his partner and indicated toward the front door. “Let’s get out of here.”

  *

  When Tiffany woke up, she had a damp cloth on her head, and Kirk was leaning over her with his face buried in his hands. When she lightly touched him, he lifted his head. “Oh God, Tiffany I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to hit you.” Taking her in his arms, his shoulders shook with sobs.

  The doctor walked up and put his hand on Kirk’s back. “She’ll be okay, Kirk. You’re a perfect match now. Her bruises match yours.”

  “That’s not funny, Doctor.”

  “No, I guess not.” Noticing the stalking three-piece suit, he said, “I think the management would like us to leave.”

  Kirk lifted his tear-stained face and gazed down at Tiffany. “Are you up to walking?”

  “I think so.”

  With the exception of the doctor, they all made their way toward the car.

  The doctor stepped up to the cash register, digging in his wallet for his American Express card. “When I told them I was taking them out to breakfast, I had eggs and bacon in mind. Not for one minute did I expect broken glasses, dishes, and furniture to be added to the bill.” He extended the card to the manager with a teasing smile. “I’ll bet American Express is going to be scratching their heads over this one, wouldn’t you say?” He watched as the damage was assessed and added to his bill. Just as he turned to leave, he got about halfway to the door when he turned back, and said, “You know, that hospital owes me a lot.” Considering the damage one more time, he added, “Especially the cafeteria.” He smiled at the manager and winked. “Best food in town.”