Whispers in the Dark

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

1

“YOU KNOW, as much as I enjoy this ritual, I’m really starting to resent you hogging my Friday nights.”

Karyn Mitchell looked up from her half-painted toes and rolled her eyes at her best friend, Anne. “Funny, I don’t remember inviting you, anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I know what you’d be doing if I wasn’t here…”

“Enjoying a nice, long bath?” Karyn raised a pointed eyebrow.

“Booorrrring.” As she flopped down onto the sofa beside Karyn, ice cubes rattled in Anne’s fresh drink. “You’ve been here almost two years—don’t you think it’s time to see something besides your gray cubicle and the inside of this apartment?”

“I like my apartment.” There was nothing wrong with it. Or the fact that she preferred to spend her time safe inside it.

Capping her bottle of Ravished Red, Karyn tried not to let the familiar irritation surface. Anne didn’t mean to push. She just couldn’t seem to help it.

“And grease-stained pizza boxes and demolished cartons of triple-chocolate meltdown, apparently. But neither of those will help you find a man.”

A joking smile crinkled her friend’s bright green eyes. It didn’t help. This was territory they’d been over before, and Karyn was getting tired of covering the same ground. The only thing that kept her from exploding was the fact that while Anne might appear thick-skinned to the rest of the world, she was really a softie at heart.

“I don’t need a man.”

Anne snorted, a sound that clashed with her blond, model-quality exterior, but completely suited the rebel she hid inside. “Every woman needs a man, someone to help you feel pretty, feminine…sexy.”

“I wouldn’t know sexy if it bit me in the ass.”

“That’s my point.” A bright, mischievous smile flashed across Anne’s face, lightening Karyn’s mood. Anne had that effect on her…on everyone. Sometimes it was sickening. But, God, she’d needed that so much when she’d first moved to Birmingham.

Laughter. Something she’d only faked for years. Her family had smothered her. Cocooned her in bubble wrap and walked on egg shells around her. Even surrounded by people, you could be alone. She just hadn’t realized how alone she’d been until she’d met Anne.

It hadn’t always been that way. A mischievous child, she’d grown up the center of attention and relished every last moment. And as a teenager, she’d loved being the outgoing, friendly one. Not the most popular girl. But the one everyone turned to for advice and a shoulder to cry on.

Being happy had been easy. Then.

She missed that girl. Wanted her back. It had taken five years, but she was finally starting to find that place inside again. If she could just break through that last barrier to being whole…

“A good man would teach you ‘sexy.’” Anne’s mouth twisted into an up-to-no-good grin as her eyes flashed fun. “Now turn the radio on. The show’s about to start.”

Karyn groaned. She had a love/hate relationship with Dr. Desire and his radio show. There was something about that man’s voice that made her insides tingle and turn to goo. Listening to him talk about relationships and sex for hours every night drove her crazy. Of course, she supposed it was self-torture, considering she’d given up all hope of ever having sex again.

“You’re on the air with Dr. Desire. Let’s put some spark back in your love life.”

His familiar voice filled the room around her. Calm and pleasant, deep and dark, Dr. Desire had the uncanny ability to put her at ease and hype her up, all with that one catch phrase.

Comfort and confusion, that’s what he offered. How could she want everything he talked about—a healthy, satisfying relationship plus sweaty, hedonistic, no-holds-barred sex—and yet still be unable to take that first step in finding it?

Listening to his show had become a nightly ritual, one she shared every Friday with Anne. It had started out as a sort of self-prescribed therapy. She’d hoped that hearing men and women talk about sexual relationships every night would take the edge of fear away, would get her juices flowing again. And it had, it did, but each and every time she’d attempted to put that energy to good use, the anxiety would resurface.

Holy hell, she was frustrated.

She wanted sex. She wanted a life. And she wanted someone to share them both with.

“How can he fulfill your needs if you don’t tell him what you want? Listen, ladies, we aren’t mind readers. You want a little adventure with your sex? Then spell it out for him. Trust me, he’s probably willing to try anything once.”

Karyn sighed and leaned back against her sofa. She rattled the ice cubes in her buttery nipple, wishing, not for the first time, that the warm buzz wouldn’t go to waste. But she never drank hard liquor in public, not when there were men around to take advantage.

“Call him.”

Rolling her head sideways, Karyn shot Anne a glare. “No.”

“He’ll have the answer.”

She stared disbelievingly as Anne hopped up and hobbled across the floor toward the phone.

“Ah, no—he won’t.”

“Look, how can it hurt? You’ve seen how many therapists over the last few years?”

“Four in five years.”

“And has anything they’ve told you to do helped?”

“No.”

“Precisely.” Anne duck-walked back to protect her wet polish. With a raised eyebrow and cocked hip, she thrust out the handset. “What do you have to lose?”

Staring at the thing like it was a mud-covered spider, Karyn said, “Uh, my dignity, self-respect, sanity? Any of those will work. There is no way I’m going on the most popular radio show in the city to spill my guts. Everyone I know listens to this show. You’re the only person here who knows what happened. I plan to keep it that way.”

“So lie, use a different name. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.”

“You’re assuming he can’t help—”