Grave Matter

by Karina Halle

I’ve always been a voice gal. If a man has a low, gravelly voice, a little rough, a little rich, it makes me weak in the knees.

His stare is intense, electrifying, burning straight into my soul, like he can see all of me.

“Then I will call you Sydney unless you tell me otherwise.” “My friends call me Syd,” I tell him coyly. “I can’t tell if we’re going to be friends or not.”

Kincaid stands to the side of me and says, “Do you see that girl?” I see her, I think. Sydney Denik, hot mess express. “That’s what I’m up against,” he says, his voice so low and rough that it sends fingers up my spine. “That’s who makes it so damn hard to come to work every day because I have to pretend. Pretend I don’t want her. Pretend I don’t need her. Pretend I don’t crave her.”

“You’ll find someone, one day,” he eventually says. “You don’t know that,” I snap, the anger at it all. “But I do. Because I know you are someone worth loving. That you are worthy of being loved. And there is someone out there who will one day lay down their life for yours.”

I’m undoing this calculating and controlled—obsessed—doctor, and I can bring him pleasure that he’s trying so hard to deny. Obsess over me, I think. Please. I need your obsession. I want his possession.

“Because you are my future, Syd,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “Because that’s all there is. The past doesn’t exist anymore. Only now and tomorrow is what does. And I want you—now and tomorrow.”

on. I may not have anyone in my life to love me, but at this moment, somehow I feel loved.

“I can fix you, Syd,” he whispers in my ear. “How?” “Trust me.”

But I can’t quit now. As long as you’re here, I’m here.” “Oh no,” I tell him, even though my chest feels light. “Don’t say you’re staying for me.” “I’m staying for you, sweetheart,” he says, grabbing my hand and holding it up to his mouth, pressing his lips against my skin. “I’m burning up for you. You’re my fever, Syd. No cure.”

“So you’re not laying a single fucking finger on her head, or I swear to god I will burn this whole damn place down with you in it. Especially with you in it.”

“Idle threats,” Michael says. “You’ve said this before, and yet you’re still here.” “I don’t make idle threats,” Kincaid growls. “She’s mine.”

“You deserve it. Something to take your mind off things. You’ve been through so much, Syd. And I am so proud of you for how you’ve been handling it.”