Mind Games (2 page)

He kicked the chair from beneath his feet, and the thick rope cut into his neck. He gurgled and choked, piss running down his leg. His eyes burst open. His lifeless body swung like a clock’s pendulum.

“Sparrow, we’re here. Still in the mood for Chinese?”

She jumped in her seat, turning to look at him. Chinese? She’d lost time again, forgetting where she was and what she was doing.

“What?”

His nose wrinkled and eyes squinted at her. A deep furrow sprouted creases between his brows. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re listening to me at all. We decided to stop for a bite to eat. Remember?” He reached across the console and rested his hand on her arm. His long fingers stroked up and down. “I know it’s been a tough day. Come on, let’s get you inside and get some food in you.”

“I’m sorry, my mind’s all over the place.”

The truth was she couldn’t remember anything about the conversation they’d supposedly had about dinner. The loss of memory was happening more frequently, and she couldn’t figure out why. How could she have had a complete conversation with Derrick and not remember? She didn’t recall climbing into the Mobile Health Clinic RV or talking to him about, well, only he knew what.

Something was going terribly wrong with her mind.

They pulled up to her beachfront bungalow. She could have afforded something more luxurious and bigger, but didn’t find it necessary. The mansion she’d grown up in had always felt big and cold and filled with people who were less than personable. The king and queen of the palace were her parents, and the servants bowed down to them. Once, her father had fired a nanny for giving Sparrow a hug.

“Affection amongst the staff is not tolerated,” he’d scolded. “She is your caregiver, not your mother.”

What irony. Her mother, Cora Von Langley, was a socialite too concerned about the next grand charity ball or fundraiser. She’d rather turn Sparrow over to a stranger than deal with her herself. Sparrow had learned a long time ago that she was merely a piece of cloth in the family fabric sewn by her father, Dr. Theodore Von Langley.

“I’m so proud of Sparrow. She’s the apple of my eye,” her dad had said.

She twisted the key in the lock to open the front door. Derrick stood behind her with dinner. She hesitated to invite him in. It had only been a year since she’d left Dana and their volatile relationship behind.

“The food’s going to be cold if we don’t go in.”

His deep voice slashed across her insecurity. A salty Pacific breeze swept by them and the slow drizzle started again.

“I’m sorry, Derrick. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. With the funeral today and… Well, I just can’t seem to function.”

He put his hand on top of hers and pushed the door open, gently nudging her inside. “You don’t expect me to eat this out in the RV, do you?” He held up the bags containing the Chinese food and smiled at her.

How could she deprive him a moment to sit down and enjoy a hot meal?
Derrick is nothing like Dana.
“Of course not. Come in.”

She took a quick look around to ensure the place was tidy. By nature she was a neat freak and hated anything out of its place. Chaos in a home bred inner chaos, and she didn’t want that.

“Let’s take this into the kitchen. Do you mind unpacking the food while I freshen up? I’d like to get out of this black dress and into some sweats.”

“No problem.” He set the bags of Chinese food on the countertop.

She pulled open cupboards and drawers, revealing silverware and plates and anything else he might need to lay out the Chinese feast.

“Go change, I’ll take care of this.” He took out a couple of plates from the cupboard and took them out to the table.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. You don’t have to wait for me. If I know you, you probably haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”

The dark circles around Derrick’s eyes were becoming more evident. She worried about the steady stream of calculated caffeine keeping him going. Doctors kept crazy work schedules, and even though they were healthcare professionals, they didn’t always take care of themselves. He was taking the Mobile Health Clinic RV out late at night and combing the streets of LA in search of runaway teens that needed help, and the help included more than what a routine physical and aspirin could offer. Derrick had been digging into his own pockets, buying kids food and handing out sweatshirts and socks.

Medical school and the private school he’d attended were expensive, especially considering he’d gone through an accelerated medical program not fully covered by his academic scholarship. He must have had to take out student loans to cover the cost of such prestigious schools.

But Derrick was compelled to help. The kids trusted and relied on him; she could understand his desire to be there for them. She loved volunteering at the Mobile Health Clinic RV and working side by side with him. She only wished he’d accept monetary help from her. And that he’d find more time to be there for her, too.

*               *               *

Derrick wouldn’t have minded helping her out of her dress; although he was disappointed she’d decided to change. The dress’s fabric clung to her toned body in all the right places. His eyes fell from her dark blonde hair swaying across the top of her shoulders to her cinched waist and exquisite curvy hips. He admired the dress’s ruffle slinking around her muscled calves as she turned and walked away. His hot gaze traveled down her body to the sexy black high heels strapped to her feet. She stopped and looked back at him, catching the unspoken lascivious thoughts reflecting in his eyes.

Her brilliant green eyes and slight smile revealed a sparkle that acknowledged she’d busted him checking her out. He grinned at her and shrugged, admitting he’d looked her up and down. “You look beautiful.” His eyes traveled the length of her elegant neck, sweeping across her collarbones to the black fabric crossed over her breasts.

“Thank you, please, make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

She turned on the ball of her foot, kicking up the back of her high heel and twirling on her way out. Her slight smile, flush in her cheeks, and soft voice tempted him to follow her to the bedroom. He took a step forward then paused. “
I’ll be right back” isn’t an invitation to join her.
“Make yourself at home” wasn’t either, he chastised himself. Better listen, he decided, and imagined her yoga students obeying her commands. He wouldn’t mind her demanding something of him. In bed. She had this sex appeal, a mix of innocence and sin rolled into the perfect female package. His inflated libido was getting the better of him.

He’d been so focused on work and worried about his sister that he didn’t have a social life, much less a date. He raked his fingers through his hair. He had a job to do and Sparrow had become a distraction. A good distraction, but nonetheless a distraction. He shouldn’t have suggested coming back to her place.

His wet shoes squeaked against the tile floor. He turned and set his keys on the yellow buffet with palm trees splashed across the front of the cabinet doors, and hung his wet coat on the coat rack.

Her kitchen was updated with modern stainless steel appliances and marble countertops swirled with turquoise. He grabbed some extra plates from the open cupboard and quickly picked up on her pineapple-themed kitchen. Not only did she have matching plates painted with pineapples, but the glass-topped dining room table had an intricately carved wood pineapple base that complemented the dining table’s rattan chairs with dark blue cushions and yellow pineapples.

Her home had a cozy beach flavor enhanced by the smell of the ocean and subtle citrusy fragrance worn by Sparrow. What a beautiful woman. Quite the contrast from the young teenage girl he’d remembered. He continued setting the table, feeling very comfortable in her home.

The pineapple-shaped wall clock struck six, reminding him not to get too relaxed. He’d need to leave soon to park the Mobile Health Clinic RV near High Point Beach. He drove his hand through his hair. He could catch up on his rounds tomorrow. Sparrow needed him more tonight.

*               *               *

Sparrow hung the black dress on a puffy pink cushioned hanger and pulled on a pair of white cotton ankle socks. The gray sweats were not very stylish, but she wanted comfort. The oversized sweatshirt hung loosely past her hips. It was a size too big, but she liked the roominess. Hey, if Derrick was going to date her, he might as well see her for who she really was. When she came out of the bedroom she pulled the door across the hall to her studio shut. No need for him to know about her hobby yet.

She walked back to the dining room pulling her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. Derrick was waiting at the table; he hadn’t touched a thing. Her stomach growled when the smell of grilled vegetables and tangy chicken hit her nostrils.

“You didn’t have to wait.”

He pushed himself up from the table and crossed over to her, pulling out a chair for her across from him. “I want to eat with you. Hope you don’t mind, but I raided your fridge for something to drink.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bad hostess. My mother would be simply mortified if she were here.” She placed her hand over her heart and batted her eyes at him, and then she pulled out the front of her sweatshirt and glanced down at it, shaking her head.

“Hey, no need to impress me,” he said, pushing in her chair before he went back to his own seat.

Oh, great, he thinks I look like something the cat dragged in.

Derrick was hotter than wasabi. She regretted not wearing one of her cute and formfitting yoga outfits. Aside from seeing her in the designer black dress, for the most part he’d only seen her in the jeans and casual shirts she wore while doing volunteer work. Although they’d been out a few times, they’d
grabbed
dinner, and she had felt nearly rushed, come to think of it. Derrick worked too much. Did he have room in his life for anything else, much less a girlfriend?

With that thought in her head, she decided it wasn’t necessary to confide in him about the visions, not yet anyway.

She scanned the glass tabletop for silverware. He had set chopsticks near her plate. She rounded the breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the dining room and grabbed a spoon and fork from the utensil drawer. She set them down near her plate and sat down in the cushioned chair.

He pulled open a carton of sweet and sour chicken and offered her the container before he piled a heap onto his plate. With adroit hands he used the chopsticks, adding brown rice to the chicken and vegetable mixture. Sparrow wasn’t as skillful, and decided she would use a spoon and fork to dive into her meal. He offered her the container of steamed vegetables, a pair of chopsticks protruding from the end. His eyes went from her to the chopsticks in a mocking sort of way, as if to say,
Go ahead. I dare you.
She met his devilish eyes with a confident smile and pulled a hunk of broccoli and a few carrots from the carton. The chopsticks started to shake, and she dropped the food onto her plate.

That decided it. She set down the carton of steaming vegetables and picked up her fork. She raised a forkful of chicken to her mouth.

“You know it doesn’t taste as good that way,” Derrick said.

The deep dimples in his cheeks and his devilish light brown eyes enhanced his daring grin, making him all the more desirable. He clicked the chopsticks together, taunting her with them and his mischievous smile. The glint in his eyes said,
Betcha can’t do it
. Irresistible or not, she shoved the forkful of food into her mouth, savoring every tangy bite.

“Tastes delicious to me.”

“Here, let me show you how to use those.”

He pulled his chair next hers and handed her a pair of chopsticks. He took her hand into his, maneuvering the chopsticks into the correct position. They felt awkward, and she was already anticipating spilling food all over the place. She steadied her hand down toward her plate, opened the chopsticks, and plucked a big piece of batter-coated chicken. She only had to get the steaming hunk of meat to her mouth. She could do this.

“Wait,” he said. She snapped her mouth shut with piece of chicken precariously suspended in midair. “You have to dip it in sweet and sour sauce.” He lifted up the bowl.

She could do this, maybe. The chopsticks shook in her hand. She lowered the quivering chopsticks and dunked the small boulder of chicken. Now she had a potential mess on her hands. She leaned forward and brought her face to the steaming hunk of meat and dropped it into her mouth. A tiny bit of sauce dripped from her lip, and before she could reach for a napkin, Derrick swiped up the trickle of sauce with his index finger and licked it away.

“Mmm, that sauce is good. Let’s try again. You’ve almost got it. See, watch me.”

He fed her a carrot. He reached for her hand and helped her manipulate the chopsticks. She picked up a piece of broccoli and placed it into her mouth.

“Okay, I think I’ve got the hang of it. You better eat before it gets cold.”

Having Derrick close was nice, but she worried about how and when she’d tell him about the vision. She didn’t want him to spoon-feed her dinner with this secret hanging over her head. She had to find a way to tell him about Dana, but right now, she didn’t want to spoil the moment. He slid his chair back to the other side of the table and dived into his food.

“So tell me why you came back here. You could have gone anywhere and practiced medicine.”

“I wanted to start a mobile health clinic in a city that I felt needed services the most. Hundreds if not thousands of teenagers flee to LA with delusions of grandeur, and most of them end up on the streets homeless, addicted to drugs, and prostituting themselves to survive.”

“Derrick, it’s a noble cause, but you can’t save them all.” She picked up a piece of chicken with her chopstick and then dropped it clumsily onto her lap. She looked down at the soggy mass resting between her thighs and then up at him and shook her head.

“I can try.” He jutted his chopsticks out at her, clicking them together. “Would you like me to get that for you?”

“Uh, no thanks, I’ve got it.” She plucked the chicken from her lap and tossed it onto the table, wiping the remnants with a soggy napkin.

“I can appreciate the work you’re doing, but have you considered that for each one you save another one flocks to the city that same day?”

The tight look on his face told her she’d hit a nerve.