Read Online From The Dead by John Herrick - Free Book Online

effect
already.
    “So what did you and Dale talk about?” she asked.
    “Huh?”
    She smoothed the cushion beside her. Jesse took the
hint and sat down.
    “Tonight,” she replied. When Jesse failed to give an
immediate answer, she leaned closer. She peered into his eyes;
Jesse found a gentle tease in hers. She said, “I saw you on the
patio together. Did you have fun? You were out there long
enough.”
    “Just shooting the breeze.”
    “Did you pick up some cardiology tips from him?”
    “I learned he has a Maserati.”
    Tongue in cheek, she grinned. “I already knew
that.”
    Jada leaned her head back as Jesse initiated
foreplay. At last, she murmured, “What do you know—I’m getting laid
tonight after all.”
    Jesse stopped. “What?”
    “We both thought you’d work tonight.”
    “Right.” He’d forgotten about the birthday party
earlier that day.
    Jada closed her eyes. “Kiss me here …”
    * * *
    They lay naked beneath the sheets that night. Hours
earlier, Jesse’s cloud of depression had emerged again, and once
they reached the bed, he had lost the urge to pursue intimacy
further. An argument ensued—as if the circumstance weren’t
humiliating enough for him—which left them to fall asleep
embittered and distant.
    Halfway through the night, Jesse grew restless and
stirred in his sleep. Groggy, Jada grunted, then patted around the
bed with eyes shut. When she squinted at Jesse, she watched her
partner rustle beside her as he struggled through a difficult
dream. But his quiet moans and sighs didn’t indicate fright—rather,
a peculiar tenderness, a cautious concern.
    “Babe …” she whispered. No response. She tapped him
to no avail.
    A chill formed in the air, and Jada pulled the satin
sheet closer against her skin. Despite her attempt to return to
sleep, Jesse’s body shifts jolted her awake. At last, she reached
over and grazed his hair with feather-light strokes. Jesse calmed.
She continued for a few moments until he murmured in his sleep.
    “Caitlyn …”
    Jada halted in mid stroke. As she withdrew her hand,
she stared at Jesse.
    She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. She just stared at
him, the gleam in her eyes sharp as a pair of precision razors.
    Caitlyn.
    As she pierced him with her eyes, she lay and watched
to see what happened next. But his stirring didn’t resume. Jesse
continued to lay motionless. Soothed.
    Jada’s lips compressed until they all but
disappeared. With a huff, she turned over and drew the sheet over
her head.
    * * *
    Jesse sensed he’d had a troubled dream the night
before but couldn’t recall the subject. Not that this was unusual;
he remembered few dreams nowadays. Had Jada stroked his hair, or
was that part of the dream too?
    Jada continued to sleep. Since it was Sunday morning,
Jesse figured she’d want to sleep in. No appointments today.
Besides, he couldn’t shake the sense of tension, or at least
something off-kilter, in the atmosphere.
    From his seat at the dining-room table, Jesse heard
Jada stir in the bedroom when she awoke. Without getting up, he
peered around the corner and caught sight of her through a portion
of the bedroom doorway. She held her hand against her head as
though to combat a headache.
    He watched her as she discovered the other side of
the bed empty. She fingered the imprint of Jesse’s body, still
carved into the sheet, a ghostly reminder of his presence. When she
rose, Jesse resumed his breakfast.
    On her way out of the bedroom, Jada bit her lip. Her
face looked a tad too flushed. To Jesse, she appeared bothered.
    Though Jesse didn’t ask, Jada gave him a status
report anyway. “I didn’t fall asleep till dawn. You shifted around
last night,” she said.
    Jesse shrugged but said nothing.
    With the aroma of brewed coffee in the air, Jesse
watched as Jada padded into the kitchen toward the bistro-style
pot. Jesse continued to munch on his organic oat cereal while he
perused one of the scripts Jada had left on the table.
    He