Chapter 8: S

Brady closed the book and handed it to Sarah. She held it protectively in her hands, twisting it back and forth, lost in memories.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Brady ventured.

“I’m not upset,” she replied, “we can’t change the past. I wish I still drank.”

Brady leaned over and pulled a small yellow bottle from the bedside table, opened it and shook a single white pill into his hand. He returned the bottle to the bed stand.

“Here,” he offered the pill to her.

“What is it?” She held the pill between her thumb and forefinger. She peered at it intently. It had an embedded S on the surface and there were flecks of gold sparkling within like diamond inclusions.

“We call it Shelter,” Brady replied. “It will take the edge off.”

“Like weed?”

Brady shook his head. “Sort of, but it has a slightly different effect on most people.”

She bounced the pill in her palm. Taking the edge off sounded nice at the moment. It didn’t feel like a crossroads to her; it didn’t feel like a decision that might affect the next year of her life. But it was.

She looked at Brady. He smiled easily at her, waiting.

Sarah placed the Shelter on her tongue and dry swallowed it.

Her life changed.

The chemicals didn’t wait long to reach her bloodstream. Her limbs numbed slightly and Sarah felt lightheaded. Lights swirled through her vision, chasing each other like rogue cats. She struggled to concentrate, similar to a cannabis effect. Her ankles no longer felt connected to her body. On the positive side, she no longer felt the compulsion to swim into a lake or any desire to slice her thigh with a sharp blade. She felt alive and free. She felt liberated.

Most of all, she wanted to be touched. Her skin tingled, especially her erogenous zones: breasts, nipples, back of the neck, insteps, toes, back of her knee, and her labia. Without inhibition, she kicked off the sheets, leaned over and kissed Brady on the mouth, her lips exploding in sensation.

“Wow,” she breathed.

Brady smiled. “I know, right?”

And then she was lying on her back, Brady’s tongue between her legs, her hands clawing her own breasts. She cried out, calling his name over and over.

She lost track of the orgasms, until she couldn’t climax again, her body spent, overwhelmed in new sensations.

She realized that for the first time since she could remember, she hadn’t left her body during sex. She was present.

Her exhausted mind wouldn’t function properly. She still wanted sex, wanted Brady inside her, wanted his fingers, his mouth, all of him. She was sore in all the right places. Brady withdrew from between her legs.

Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes. Peaceful sleep threatened despite her arousal.

Brady sat on the edge of the bed watching the naked girl. He nodded, satisfied. An erection strained at his khakis, but he didn’t touch himself, nor did he attempt to have intercourse with the nearly comatose girl. There was plenty of time, plenty of others. He glanced at her treasured sketchbook askew on the sheet beside her, her fingers lying limp across the untitled cover. Sarah was going to be interesting, without a doubt, very interesting.

She slipped unresisting into a dreamless sleep, a satisfied smile upon her lips; for five long years and even longer, her sleep had been consistently haunted by Patrick, Grant, Jake, Tim, even Geeky Phil, but this night would be different. This night, she was sheltered with Brady and echoes of the past would avoid her.

Deep in the night, Sarah roused. Muted traffic noise from eleven floors below permeated the window. Faint moonlight caressed her bare skin, and a sliver of brighter light slashed across her lower legs, flowing like a beacon through the marginally open bedroom door from the sitting area beyond. For a brief moment, she fought disorientation, wondering where she lay, her mind muddled. No other presence joined her in the large bed, adding to her confusion. There should be a man with her? The strong scent of sex and an earthy musk tickled her nostrils. Her body ached, but in a satisfying manner. Her nipples and vagina whispered to her; she remained highly aroused and wanted to be touched. Her fingers stole down her bare skin to between her legs, to the silky and sensitive skin there, and she inhaled sharply at the sensuality before forcing her fingers away. She wanted to turn over and fall back asleep, too, perhaps more than she wanted sex.

Brady’s voice floated ethereally from beyond the mostly closed door, where it was light. She could only hear and understand the odd phrase. None of the one-sided conversation made any sense to her.

“ ... it’s been nearly three months...”

A name: “Janet...”

Another name: “Ivan...”

Angry: “ ... bitch will turn up eventually ... she can’t hide forever...”

A third name: “Rebecca ... she must know something...”

“ ... try again...”

Her name: “ ... new girl ... Sarah...”

None of the whispered fragments of conversation fully penetrated the fog floating through Sarah’s mind enough to make any sense. Sleep called to her insistently. Sarah turned over and closed her eyes again; the strange discussion in the other room faded into obscurity. In the morning, she wouldn’t remember that she’d woken in the night.

Morning sunlight streamed into the bedroom. Sarah opened her eyes. The bed remained empty but for her. The sun rays warmed her bare skin pleasantly, but she reached down and pulled a sheet up to cover herself to the chin. She didn’t sense any other presence in the suite. For five minutes, she simply lay in bed staring at the ceiling and out the window to the sky beyond. She remained aroused and wanting Brady, considered masturbating, then decided against it.

“Brady?” she eventually ventured.

There was no response.

She pushed the cover away again and swung her legs from the bed. Her head ached a little, not like she was hung over -- she knew what that felt like -- but almost like the beginning of a mild headache behind her right eye. She pinched the bridge of her nose and stood up, swaying slightly as the blood rushed from her brain. Naked, she padded to the bedroom door and opened it. The sitting area was empty, except that fresh strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, grapefruit and yogurt waited on the coffee table. She realized she was hungry, which surprised her after the two dinners she’d eaten the previous evening. Then again, her body ached as if she’d run for kilometres.