Because the Night

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

A/N: I have received comments from another board where people found the workplace I describe to be difficult to imagine. Well, I'm sorry that people apparently work in such stiff environments. I describe this workplace because this is what it's like where I work. Maybe that's just because of the industry. Who knows? However, while it may be difficult to imagine, please note, it does exist.

~Chapter Six~

Although it burned me to obey anyone, I followed Gen’s orders and left the office. She’d already shifted my afternoon meetings to a few of the other ladies, anticipating the long story after lunch. Since I had nothing else to do, and plenty to contemplate, I accepted the early dismissal. Still, I couldn’t understand why she insisted that I take Friday off work. Friday was a relatively dull day in the office anyhow, but I preferred to save my vacation days to use when my legs didn’t cooperate.

“Damned interfering pain in the ass. I don’t need to waste my time off for ‘thinking’. I am quite capable of thinking while I’m at work.” I grumbled to myself all the way out the front door. I continued grumbling as I walked across the parking lot. As I reached the empty space where my car normally sat, I stared at the pavement, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks. Lisimba had ordered a cab for me this morning. My flat lay nearly three miles to the west of my place of employment. Personally, I would very much have liked to walk that distance. Unfortunately, the attack triggered by the adrenaline rush lingered still, leaving my legs with enough strength for only short distances. Even inside the building, I measured my movements, making certain I had reasons to rest during my ‘sojourns’ around the building. I also took care not to lift my tea mug whenever anyone neared my desk.

I scavenged through my hand bag, closing my fingers around the cold plastic of my mobile phone. While I dialed the familiar number for a Yellow Cab, I traipsed back across the lot to the bench near the door. It would take several minutes for the car to arrive. I wasn’t about to let anyone see me fall on my face during that time.

I still grumbled under my breath as I made the trek from the taxi, into the complex, across the lobby toward the elevator. About three steps from the clanging metal box, my legs decided they’d carried me far enough. I felt myself dropping swiftly to the floor with no recourse. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact, knowing it would likely start my wounds bleeding again.

When no impact hit, I opened one eye, suddenly recognizing that a set of strong arms circled me. I smiled with relief. “Mike, my hero. You’ve caught me, again. Whatever would I do without you?”

The tall, dark and handsome man who held me tight shook his head and hoisted me upright. Before I could thank him, he swept me into his arms like an errant child.

“What--?”

“The elevator is broken today, and repair techs can’t make it until the morning. You’ll have to accept my gracious hospitality as your lift up the stairs.”

I gasped. “Mike! I can’t let you carry me up four flights of stairs! That’s ludicrous. Put me down. I’ll walk.”

He laughed, tightening his hold against my feeble wiggling. “Cici, if I thought you could make it up the stairs without falling and breaking that beautiful neck of yours, I’d let you try. However, I watched you fumbled your way into the building. You’re having one of your bad days. The most you’re going to do once I set you down is simply fall down again.”

I pursed my lips. “I hate you. I hope you know that.”

He laughed again, the gentle tenor washing over my sour spirit, raising it high. “No, you don’t. You love me, and you love Marc, and you’re just angry because you hoped to make it to your apartment.” He grinned down at me. “So, why didn’t you come home last night? Find something at the club you liked enough to take a closer look?”

I balked. “Mike, you naughty boy! You know I don’t do that. Besides,” I pouted. “I’m not sure I want to share yet.”

He pretended to let his grip slip. My screech echoed in the stairs.

“Okay, fine. I’ll share. Brute.”

He chuckled. His aquamarine eyes twinkled in his triumph.

“I did find something at the club that I like, I think. However, I did not go home with him.” I paused. “I guess that’s not exactly right either because I did sleep at his flat.” I flushed. “It’s a really long story, okay? And I’m not really in the mood to give all the sordid details. Suffice it to say that I remain celibate today, just as I was yesterday.”

The man thought through my words as he pushed open the door to the fourth floor. He nodded. “I will accept that answer for now.” He waited while I fished the key from my purse and unlocked the door. “However, I’ll bring Marc with me tonight, as well as dinner, and I fully expect to hear the ‘long, sordid story’ as to why you didn’t come home, and you didn’t call me, and how you got that lump. You know I worry about you. It’s dangerous for a woman to live alone in this city. Meanwhile, I want you to just sit back and relax the rest of the day. You’ve obviously triggered an attack. Otherwise, you’d never be home this early in the day.”

“Ha! Shows what you know. I was ordered to come home, and to take tomorrow off work, too.” I wanted to slap myself as soon as the words erupted from my throat. He paused in the middle of lowering me to my sofa, the statement sinking into his thick, masculine head. He finished releasing me, then stood, staring at me.

His appetite was whetted now. The gleam in his eyes told me as much. He would weasel it all out of me. He opened his mouth, but I raised a hand, stopping the onslaught trying to escape his lips.

“I give! I’ll tell you over dinner. Now go. You’ve brought me safely to my apartment, where I am shielded from the prying eyes of society for the next two days. I’ll fill you in when you fill my tummy.”

Mike chuckled. “Don’t think I’ll let you off that promise, Cici. This gossip is just too good.”

I gave a high-flying hand gesture as the door closed, cutting off his laughter. Marc and Mike were identical twins who lived across the hall. They’d adopted me upon meeting. When they learned that I lived alone, they took to watching over me like a mother. If it weren’t for them, I likely would not know what caused my tremors. I shied from doctors most of the time. At their insistence, I finally scheduled the appointment, then all of the corresponding tests, to discover why I suddenly lost strength.

Still, as much as they cajoled and tried to annoy me, they were my dearest friends. The ladies at work were drinkers. I partied with them once in a while. When I wanted companionship, I sought out Marc and Mike.

The twins were built like chiseled rock, made that way from their daily exercise routine. They stood over six feet tall, and weighed in somewhere around two hundred eighty pounds of solid male muscle. They tanned on their balcony, offering an enviable view to the neighbors when they insisted on having no tan lines.

Unless they were working, they were always together. It worried me sometimes that perhaps they did everything together. Then, when that thought struck, I envied whatever girl nailed those two. They’d care for her like a treasure, and leave her purring.

I laughed. “Good heavens, Cici. Lisimba has you wound so tight that you’re ready to burst. You haven’t thought of the twins and sex in the same thought for at least a couple years.”

***

I let the water cascade over me, enjoying the warmth and the feel of clean, even though my knees stung as if I’d poured acid over them. I wanted to be done before my dinner guests arrived. It had taken hours for my legs to cooperate enough to allow me to journey across the apartment to my room and then the shower. I decided to forego my usual routine, leaving my hair a slightly tangled mess to dry naturally. My loose pajama shorts and top allowed me to go commando without my lack of underclothing being completely noticeable.

“Cici,” Mike’s voice echoed off the drywall.

“I’ll be out in a minute. What did you bring for dinner?” I peeled the backing from the fresh butterfly bandage and applied it to my head. The wound really was small, but it had not completely scabbed over. It still posed a bleed risk. I wouldn’t gross out my friends that way.

The voice came closer as he traveled the length of the short hall. His head peeked through the door. “We brought pizza. What did you expect?” I knew the instant he saw my knees. “What the hell?” Mike came the rest of the way into the room and crouched in front of me. “Let me help you with that.”

For such a big guy, I was amazed at just how tender he could be. It was a bit awesome, and strangely reminiscent of Lisimba caring for me the prior night. I flushed at the memory of those strong, gentle hands and how delicately they brushed across my flesh, both in caring for my wounds and while feeding me lunch.

His voice disturbed my meandering. “I see that, Cecilia. If we didn’t think of each other like siblings, I’d worry the sudden rise in body temperature had something to do with me.”

“If you’d heard my thoughts this afternoon, you wouldn’t think of me as a sister. You’d probably have me committed.” I laughed and then stood—at least, I tried to stand. As soon as I got up, Mike swept me into his arms.

“I’m not giving you the change to aggravate your muscles again.”

I stuck out my tongue and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Just goes to show you. I intend to let you pamper me tonight. I happen to be developing a strange fondness for having men built like brick walls treat me like a deserving queen.”

Mike’s steps faltered a second as he stared at me to see if I told the truth. He must have decided that I did. He continued toward the kitchen. “So, the dancer is a big guy.”

A nearly identical voice called out, “Don’t you even dare to grace that with a response until you get in here!”

Mike crossed the threshold separating the hall from the open layout of the kitchen, dining and entertainment areas. He deposited me gently at the dinette set before joining his brother at the counter.

“What did I miss,” Marc asked.

Mike shrugged. “Not much. Except that Little Miss Cecilia has been harboring illicit thoughts about our persons.”

My face burned. “I never said—“

Marc’s mouth dropped open. His hands continued chopping chicken for the main course. “Cici, I am shocked! We’ve been friends for six years, and you are only telling us now about these illicit fantasies? Why did you wait so long?”

“Just a minute! I never said—“ I stopped as his words soaked into my indignant-drenched brain. I mentally about-faced. “Why did I wait so long? Are you serious, or are you just screwing with me? You didn’t really expect…” I stumbled over my words.

Marc laid the knife on the counter, swept the meat and veggies into the cooker, and dropped the lid in place. Then he took the open chair to my left. His brother placed salads at each setting, glasses above each, then chose the seat to my right. Both men reached across the space, sliding their palms into my respective upturned hands.

Mike smiled. “Cici, you are flesh and blood.”

“And young and sexy,” Marc added.

“If we thought for one minute—“

“Even harbored a guess—“

“That you did not fantasize about us every once in a while—“

“We’d likely have you committed.”

“You guys give me whiplash when you do that.” My eyes hurt from bouncing back and forth between the two. “So you’re telling me that you want me to tell you when I have a hot, steamy, sexy dream about you?”

Marc grinned. “Damn right. The more detail, the better. However, not tonight. Tonight, we get to talk about Mister Tall, Dark and Mysterious.”

I know I blushed again, and I’m sure several more times during the telling. When I got through the lunch date, Marc excused himself. His face looked pained, like he strained against something. As the bathroom door closed, I asked, “Is he all right? He looked like he didn’t feel so good.”

Mike nearly choked on his food as the full laughter burst through him. “Good lord, Cici! You are not that naïve, are you?”

Mortification settled in as I realized Marc’s problem. “You mean to tell me that he’s in my bathroom right now—Mikel Manaiya! I don’t need to know that!”

His joviality was in full swing. He nearly toppled the chair. “All this time and you never figured out that my brother doesn’t see you as a sister near as much as you apparently view us as brothers? Really? Cici, you’re killing me.”

I threw my napkin at him. “You are a naughty brother.”

Just then, Marc groaned on the other side of the door. Had Mike not said anything, I would never have thought about the sound. I would not have been listening. However, now I knew, and I could not avoid turning at least three shades of red. I turned my attention to my food while Mike continued to laugh at me. I growled and pushed away from the table.

Mike jumped to his feet. “What?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Nervous? I’m just going to clear the table.”

He pushed me back to my seat. “I’ll get that. You sit.”

A few minutes later, he filled the sink with hot, soapy water and started cleaning my kitchen for me. Again, I found myself wondering how two heterosexual men could possibly be so domestic.

Marc emerged from the bath looking much better than when he went in. He stepped to the sink and began drying and putting away the dishes.

Mike spoke nonchalantly. “So, everything come out okay in there?”

I frowned, though neither saw it because their backs faced me. I grabbed a pot holder from the table and threw it. It bounced very neatly from the back of Mike’s head. Both sets of blue eyes turned my direction. I wagged my finger. “You are naughty!”

Color drained from Marc’s face for a moment. “You told her?”

The echoing laughter returned. “Seriously, brother. You were rock hard just from hearing about the lap dance. Sharing lunch had you ready to wank off right here. I didn’t even have to tell you that she’s going commando tonight.”

“Mike!” I shrieked. “How the hell do you know that?”

He rolled his eyes. “I could see up your shorts while I helped you bandage your knees. Nice view, by the way.”

I growled.

Marc growled.

“Marc,” I crooked my finger, calling him to me. “Your brother can finish the dishes by himself. Would you be so kind as to help me to the balcony?” Once I was settled into his arms, I turned back to the deviant sibling. “We’d like our drinks served on the terrace, please.”

***

Marc settled me into my seat then sat next to me. We gazed at the sky, absent of stars because of ambient light. The night was peaceful except for the light din of traffic forty feet below. Neither seemed willing to disturb the quiet spell. I knew if I waited long enough, Marc would speak. His brother had humiliated him.

I saw his shoulders stiffen in the peripheral of my vision.

“Cici, I—“

I interrupted. “Don’t apologize, Marc. First and foremost, you are my friend. Secondly, like you said earlier, we are flesh and blood, and you two are double-trouble sex-on-legs. I would be lying if I didn’t say I’ve imagined a lot of naughty things involving one or both of you.” I smiled. “Besides, if thing don’t work out with Lisimba…” I shrugged, leaving the sentence hang.

Marc took my hand in his, kissed the back, and then simply held it. “So, Mike said you looked absolutely mentally worn out this afternoon. What had you so bothered?”

I sighed. “Genevieve hit the nail on the head. I would rather suffer alone than knowingly expect a man to not only accept my disease, but also to accept never having children, not being able to walk very far because I could suddenly lose strength, and eventually to become my full time caregiver. I know that ‘if he really loves me, he won’t think twice,’ but I’ve seen what caregivers go through, Marc. It’s horrible. Male and female, I’ve seen them crumble.

“If I tell them right off, they head for the hills. If I wait to tell them, then they feel betrayed. If I wait to tell them, then they leave, I’m heart broken. If they try to stick it out, then realize it’s too much later on, I’ll not just be broken; I’ll be shattered. I’m terrified.”

Marc squeezed my hand. “I do understand, sweetie. You have a harder situation than the rest of us. Are you sure about the kid thing?”

I nodded. “As soon as I got the Aggressive Parkinson’s diagnosis, I contacted my gynecologist and arranged a tubal ligation. I’m already thirty-five years old. To have a child now, with such trivial things triggering the weakness and tremors, would be cruel to both of us. I couldn’t take my medication during any pregnancy. And after, I would run the risk of dropping the baby. It’s just too dangerous. Then, depending on how aggressive the disease chooses to be, I could end up dying before the child ever made it to high school.” I shrugged. “Not to mention that growing up in foster care makes you a bit more wary about having children than the normal, everyday human being.”

He nodded. “So, you have no idea what to do, right?”

“Exactly.”

“And you’ve already taken the ‘having children’ aspect completely out of the picture.”

“Oh, hell yeah. I was already on the fence about whether I wanted any in the first place. When I got the diagnosis, it simply made the decision very easy.”

“So, would you like to hear my take on the whole thing?”

I swallowed so hard, I’m sure he must have heard it. “Okay. I’m ready. Bring it on.”

Marc rose from his seat, crossed the short space separating us, and dropped to one knee before me. “Honey, you’re already miserable. You said he knows about the Parkinson’s. So, the only thing you have to lose is loneliness.”

***