Help Me to Forget

Help Me to Forget

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Cold, cruel fingers scraped against her skin. She tried to pull away from the touch but her bonds held her firmly in place. She more felt than heard his chuckle as he leaned over her.

“Still resisting?” His fingers dug into her collarbone before moving down. “Still thinking that he and your brother are coming to rescue you? You know that cannot be. You saw the explosion just as I did.”

She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that they weren’t dead and were coming to rescue her. But she could not find the defiance. He was right. She had seen the explosion.

He stroked her side, making her skin crawl. With a leering smile, he pressed his dead lips to her. She writhed, trying desperately to pull away. He was still smiling as he leaned back.

“No one is coming for you. Soon I will resurrect my love and you will be no more than a body to house her soul.”

She watched as he opened the golden Book of Amon-Ra. He stopped at a certain page, reading through the inscriptions to ensure it was the correct rite. She struggled harder against the chains as he raised the ceremonial knife high. The last thing she saw was a splash of red as the blade plunged into her heart.

* * * * *

Evelyn clutched her chest, grateful that her heart was still beating beneath it. The dream had been so real. She could have sworn that she was still in Hamunaptra.

“You’re safe,” she whispered. “You’re safe and he’s dead.”

She quickly looked across the room, almost expecting to see Imhotep standing there. She breathed a sigh of relief when he wasn’t.

Immediately, she felt ridiculous. “Get a hold of yourself, girl.” However, she couldn’t stop another glance around the room.

She got of bed. Putting on her robe, she began to pace the room. But the activity did little to soothe her rattled nerves or keep her mind off the dream.

What she needed was a good book. Or maybe a drink. She was pretty sure that Jonathan had left some whiskey in the other room from their impromptu celebration.

* * * * *

Rick groaned, trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch. But the damn thing must have been made of horse hair or something. No matter how he shifted, something always seemed to poke into a sensitive part.

He thought about his comfy bed just down the hall. He could go there and be asleep in no time. And he could definitely use the sleep.

But he wasn’t leaving. Although he knew that Evelyn was safe, he still felt the need to guard her. The woman definitely had a knack for trouble. And now that Imhotep was dead, who knew what she could resurrect next?

He shifted again. However, this position was no more comfortable than the other had been. He was thinking about giving up on sleep altogether when bedroom door opened.

Evelyn seemed oblivious to his presence as she turned toward the piano. She headed straight toward the whiskey that Jonathan had left behind. He watched in fascination as she poured a healthy measure into a tumbler and then downed the contents.

“Evelyn?”

“Mr. O’Connell?” She clutched her robe closed at her throat with a white-knuckled grip. “I mean, Rick. What are you doing here?”

“Trying to sleep,” he said, sitting up, “but the couch is not cooperating.”

“No, why are you here? You have a room just right down the hall.”

“The more interesting question is why aren’t you asleep in your bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“How come?”

“Too much excitement, I suppose.”

“Yeah, we’ve had some excitement,” he said, crossing the room to her. “But I don’t believe that’s the reason you can’t sleep.”

“It was just a dream.”

“It must have been some dream.”

She averted her eyes. “I dreamed he was back.”

“Imhotep?”

She nodded weakly. He tipped her chin to make her face him. “He’s dead, Evelyn. He won’t ever hurt you again.”

“It was just so real.”

She let him pull her to him. With a soft sigh, she buried her face into his shoulder. He simply held her. After several moments, she leaned back to look up at him. He was surprised when she reached up and kissed him.

At first, he was lost in the moment. But as the kiss continued, he became aware of the desperation in her touch. He pulled back. She immediately reached up again but he held her away by her shoulders. “Woah, Evie, slow down.”

“No.”

He blinked. No? Did she just say no?

Then she was kissing him again. As the kiss deepened, she pressed herself closer to him. Her fingernails scraped the nape of his neck, sending electric jolts down his spine. He was getting lost in the sensation, getting lost in her.