Read Online Void in Hearts by William G. Tapply - Free Book Online Page B

to speak. I held out my hand to her, palm up. She reached out slowly and took it, her eyes never leaving mine. Then she moved against me. She tucked her chin and put her face against my chest. “Don’t,” she mumbled against me.
    I touched her jaw with my finger. She lifted her face to look at me. “Please, Brady.”
    “Shh,” I said. I touched a finger to her lips.
    Her eyes frowned into mine. Tiny vertical lines etched themselves between her brows.
    “What do you want?” she whispered.
    I gripped her shoulders and pushed her gently away from me. “I’m sorry. I’m—”
    I saw her hand rise, as if in slow motion. It touched my jaw, fingertips first, then palm. Then it slid around to the back of my neck as she moved against me again, and her mouth angled up and I bent to meet it. It was the mouth of a stranger, a woman I had never kissed before, awkward, exploratory, before it slid away. Her arms went around my chest and she burrowed against me. I felt her shudder. I laced my fingers in her hair and urged her head back so I could see her. There was a little smile there, now, tiny crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Fire danced in her pupils before her lids dropped and her mouth lifted again, full of sweet, sad memory and familiar pain.
    “This isn’t good,” I said into her hair.
    “Come to bed with me.” A whisper against my throat.
    Becca Katz had said exactly the same thing to me two days earlier. I had complied, out of what motive I didn’t want to know. I had then regretted it.
    “No,” I said.
    “Brady—”
    “Come on,” I said. I took her hand and led her across the room. We sat in chairs beside each other.
    “Why?” she said.
    I shook my head. “It’s not right.”
    “That is no answer. Don’t you—”
    “I feel it. Of course. That’s the problem.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
    I smiled. “Me neither. Let’s have a drink.”
    “I don’t want a drink.”
    “I do.” I got up and poured some Wild Turkey into my glass. I fumbled for the ice cubes, grateful for an activity that occupied me. I went back and sat beside her. “Listen,” I said, “it’s too easy. There’s a big pit there that we could fall into. We’d hurt ourselves. Don’t you see it?”
    She nodded, fixing me with her eyes. “Sure. I see it. Maybe I wouldn’t mind falling.”
    “The falling part might be okay. Hitting the bottom, that would hurt. You know it would.”
    “You’d catch me.”
    I nodded. “If I did, that would be the trap. Maybe I wouldn’t, though. I could hurt myself, too.”
    “Ah, Brady. Maybe I just don’t care.”
    “One of us has to.”
    She smiled quickly. “You’re the one. You always were the one who knew where the pits were.”
    “Look,” I said, “I’m sorry. For the ten-millionth time. It’s my fault. Forget it. Please.”
    She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. “It’s just not that simple.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said again.
    She sat there staring across the room. I watched her face. It revealed nothing. After a minute, she turned. “Do you want to see the pictures?”
    I nodded. “Yes.”
    I followed her back into the darkroom. She had made two eight-by-tens, one each of the man’s face and the woman’s half profile. They were, as she had predicted, blurry and grainy. But the faces could be recognized by anybody who knew them, I felt certain.
    “This is great,” I said. “Thanks.”
    “Who are they?”
    “I don’t know. It’s a very long story. I’m hoping I can figure out who they are from the pictures.”
    “How in the world do you expect to do that?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Charlie can help me.”
    She found a big manila envelope and slipped all the photos she had done into it. I tucked it under my arm and we went upstairs.
    “Stay for another drink?”
    “No, thanks,” I said. “I had a couple already. No, I better get going.”
    She picked up my coat and held it for me. “What I don’t