A Ghost of a Chance (21 page)

Shining the light down into the dark church, he followed the pipe along the ceiling and to the rear wall of the upper gallery. The pipe disappeared into the floor on the other side of the gallery, a good seventy-five feet away. There were no pews or seats there, from what he could see.

He cursed himself for even contemplating what he was about to do next, but he rubbed his hands together, secured the backend of the flashlight in his mouth (trying hard to not think about where that flashlight had been), and scooted forward until his feet were hanging over the edge of the hole. The swirling light dancing against the darkness was making him dizzy as he leaned in and wrapped his hands around the solid pipe.

He figured once he lowered himself down, either the pipe would give out and he would fall to his death,
it
would hold but his nerve would give out and he’d hang there until he lost his strength and fall to his death, or both the pipe and his nerve would hold long enough to get him to the upper gallery. At this point, he wasn’t too concerned about any of the options. Praying to various gods, he tightened his grip and lowered himself over the edge.

When the weight of his body jolted him, he almost lost the flashlight, but he clamped down on it until his jaw ached. Hanging there to get his bearings, Keenan couldn’t keep the image of dead pheasants hanging from the rafters in his uncle’s barn out of his head. Maybe he would be gamey enough for a feast in a few days.

Keenan maneuvered the flashlight as best he could to look forward. From this angle, the gallery didn’t seem that far away. Question was, how solid was that pipe where he couldn’t see it? It was taking his weight ok; hadn’t even moved when he lowered himself onto it, but what about swinging a hundred and seventy pounds to move along it. He tried to remember his twelfth grade trig. How many additional pounds per square inch would swinging along that pipe add to the stress on the rusty metal?

Not that it mattered. Keenan knew he was just putting off the inevitable. He had to move one of two directions, forward or down.

Tightening his grip and thanking his lucky stars for all that walking and exercise, he slid one hand forward on the pipe about a foot. So far so good. Making sure his hold was firm, he then lifted the back hand and swung it quickly in front of the other one. Then he stopped.

His heart was racing fast enough to make his eyes pulse through the sweat pouring into them. Keenan hadn’t thought about wet hands, but the pipe was rusty enough to create its own friction. With a rush of adrenalin, he decided to go for broke and plowed ahead moving his hands one after the other to cover the distance to the looming balcony ahead.

Amazed at how quickly he was going, Keenan gave into giddiness as he moved forward. He could see his target, was almost there, could see himself passing the railing and gently releasing the pipe to stand in the gallery. He was so proud of himself.

Two feet from his goal, the pipe gave way.

Keenan suddenly found himself vertical, swinging toward the ground floor as the pipe snapped one bracket at a time above his head. He instinctively grasped it with his arms and legs, like a child clinging to its mother. The only sensation was the rush of falling wind, the slight
ping ping ping
as the metal straps broke one by one, and the sudden emptiness in his middle when he seemed to leave some of his insides on the ceiling. He slammed his eyes closed and waited to die.

Gravity and the strength of those last few brackets had other plans, however. Keenan swept within inches of the floor, the pipe caught on a beam way above his head, and stopped abruptly.

His balls, chest, and shoulder caught most of the impact, and he wished he
was
dead for a moment or two. When he looked down, he was less than a foot above the ground. Prying his legs and arms from the pipe, he slid the rest of the way to the floor, extracted the flashlight from his mouth, and then threw up.

It took Keenan several minutes to adjust to being alive. Despite the pain in his groin, he wrapped his arms around the pipe and kissed it. Sputtering, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and spit several times.

From somewhere behind him down the long nave he heard the rustle of someone making their way through the debris. He fumbled with the flashlight, amazed it still worked when he twisted the top, and played the light down the long expanse. There was definitely a shadow coming toward him.

“Who’s there?” His voice resonated through the ruin around him, coming back muffled.

The figure stopped. “Keenan?”

Keenan couldn’t believe what he thought his ears were hearing. He didn’t reply.

“Keenan, is that you?” That wonderful voice made him go all loose inside.

“Isabella?”

The figure hurried across the open area and landed square in his arms. His balls ached where she landed, but he didn’t mind.

“Oh my God, I thought I’d never get out of here,” she whispered in his ear, holding him tight. The warmth of her body made the pain disappear.

He thought maybe this was another one of Reggie’s dreams. At first he was so bowled over just to have her in his arms, he forgot that maybe he should be suspicious, or maybe even a little surprised.

“Are you all right?”

She stepped out of his arms and looked up at him. In the muted light, he could make out shining tears on her cheeks and a red nose. Dust covered her hair, her face, and her clothes. Even mussed and dirty, Keenan felt the pang of desire run through his blood when he looked at her.

“I think so, Kee,” she said breathlessly. “Something grabbed me. I don’t know what it was. I must be out of my mind.” Her trembling shoulders vibrated against his hands and her eyes were wild. “I blacked out. When I woke up, I was here. Where are we?” The words tumbled out of her mouth in breathless abandon.

“It doesn’t matter, Is.” He turned her around to make sure everything was intact. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“No,” she whined and buried herself in his arms again. “I heard you shouting and running, but I couldn’t find you. Then I heard your jeep and tried to find the door, but it was too late. The police pulled in right after you left, so I hid. They locked the door, Kee. They locked me inside. I’ve been scared shitless.”

She pressed her trembling body tight against his chest and cried.

“You have to get out of here,” he said into her ear. “It isn’t safe. I’ll get the kitchen door open then you need to go.”

That elicited an abrupt stop to the tears and Isabella looked up at him. She pulled herself out of his arms and with an effort, got her emotions in check with a sniff and a shake of her arms.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on. Why are we here? This is crazy.”

It is crazy.
A rush of fatigue ran through Keenan’s body.
What was he going to tell her? What would she believe? Hell, what did he believe at that moment?
The questions were only gathering momentum.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Listen, I don’t have time to explain everything, but I will, I promise. There’s something I have to do here, something important. I need you to trust me right now. You have to leave and I mean in a hurry. Sorry, Is.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he pulled her into his arms, gave her a good stout kiss, and dragged her toward the kitchen. Isabella planted her feet firmly against the ground. She was a lot stronger than Keenan had anticipated.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” she said, getting her wrist from his hand and taking a step back. The words seemed to take her back a bit; she folded her arms and rubbed her shoulders. “I mean, I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going on. I’ve spent the last hour in this horrible place. You better start talking, mister. You said there wouldn’t be any secrets, so start talking, stud.” Isabella plopped down on the ground and glared up at him.

Keenan rubbed his eyes and glanced at the small chapel at the end of the nave. It was absolutely quiet in the church, and he couldn’t see any light coming from under either of the closed doors. That startled him a bit. Again, without the ghosts around that lonely feeling gathered around his shoulders and sent a shiver down his back.

Joining Isabella on the ground, he stood the flashlight on its end between them. When he searched her eyes, he thought he saw something he hadn’t seen in a very long time. For a split second, the love was unmistakable.

She lowered her chin in a quick movement.

Keenan was confused; they had only met two weeks ago, only gone out that morning. Sure he had a deep case of the lusts for her and, if he was honest with himself, there was something beyond that, something that had shocked him the first time he saw her. But this was different. In the instant glance, he read something much deeper in her eyes. What amazed him was he was sure his heart was echoing the sentiment with the same intensity. In that split second he was almost certain he loved her, too. It knocked the wind out of him.

“Why did you come to my house?” he asked her softly, for some reason knowing it wasn’t to apologize.

When Isabella looked up there were tears in her eyes. She put her hand on his cheek and brushed it with her thumb.

“Hell if I know. Ever since I met you, I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about you, about being with you, about spending every minute…” The words stopped abruptly, and she yanked her hand away from his face. Even in the soft glow of the flashlight, the blush on her face was bright. “You’re going to think
I’m
nuts.”

Keenan nodded and touched her chin to lift her face so he could see her eyes. “Go on,” he whispered.

“Well…” She rolled her eyes and shook her head against his hand, but then tightened her lips to muster some courage. “Keenan, I think…I might be in love with you.” She curled the side of her mouth. “Sorry.”

In response, Keenan wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close to kiss her.

The touch of her lips against his sent bells off in his head. Whistles blew like fire engines. The world swirled around inside his skull like a carnival ride. His heart turned into a bagpipe and swelled with an emotion he had never known. The contentment expanded into his body, filling every nook and cranny with hope and a deep masculine desire to shield the woman in his arms and protect her from the vagaries of existence. The flashlight fell over when he pulled her into his arms to make her melt into his body. Voids filled in his life in an instant; holes he didn’t even know existed overflowed. It was as if a missing piece of his life had been shoved into his hands.

The kiss lingered for an eternity and Keenan let it. For a long time, that soft mouth was the only thing in his universe.

When he couldn’t breathe anymore, he pulled away from her face and buried it in her hair. The tangy scent helped him to focus. Keenan couldn’t find words to say to her.

“I’m assuming that means you feel the same,” she said breathlessly in his ear.

He pulled away, took her face in both hands, and kissed her again. “Yes,” was all he could manage for the moment.

“Well…good,” she said.

Isabella began to laugh and Keenan couldn’t help joining her. The sound floated up from the two of them clasped in each other’s arms, reverberating against the walls of the church and the rafters above their heads. It came back to them in a chorus of hilarity, filling Keenan’s ears.

When the laughter subsided, Isabella smoothed his eyebrows with a dirty thumb. The gesture was so familiar it startled Keenan.

“Come with me, Keenan. There isn’t anything here for you, do you understand? It’s just an empty church. I’m real, I’m flesh, warm, a real living human being who loves you, who’s always loved you. I know there’s something you feel you have to do, but you don’t. All you have to do is come with me now. Let’s get out of here. Ok?”

Keenan watched her dark irises dilate softly. His outline in them was a silhouette illuminated by a beam of light and a deep desire. He touched her lips with his thumbs and pressed his mouth to each of her eyelids. The tears were salty against his lips when he licked them afterwards. There was nothing more important than Isabella. Almost nothing. He pulled her against his chest once more and whispered into her ear, “Ok.”

Keenan grabbed the flashlight, Isabella’s hand, and headed toward the kitchen without a backward glance.

When they got to the door, Keenan tried it, but the chain securing it was too tight. Even when he tried to kick it, the only thing it did was hurt his foot.

He ran the flashlight around the room until he caught sight of something just above his head to the right; a plain panel painted over to make it look like the walls in the kitchen. On a hunch, he tested the shaky counter and hauled himself on top to check it out.

The painted over glass must have been hidden from the outside by the ladder. With a quick flick of the back of the flashlight, it shattered outward and left an opening about girl size. He cleaned out the rest of the glass with the metal tube and peered through. The fire escape ladder was right in front of it.

“Give me your hand,” he said reaching for Isabella.

The face staring at him didn’t look too confident, but she let him help her stand on the counter. It teetered for a second, sending her into his arms again, much to his delight, but then stopped. He stomped down twice to make sure it was secure.