Instinctual (2 page)

Chapter One

Kate Fitzpatrick felt it like a bullet to her chest, raw and consuming. Insufferable pain sliced right through her from front to back with no mercy. The sheer intensity of it threw her to the ground as she screamed out in distress, gasping for air, dizzy and sweaty, hands shaking.

Quivering fingers unsteadily clasped at the buttons on the pretty blouse, pulling at them, the top one breaking off and spinning across the tiled floor, coming to a stop under the Italian hand-carved armoire.

Her heart felt strange as its tempo played like a rock song in her chest: loud, hard and all over the place. Thumping wildly.

“Jesus, I’m dying!”

It was only a flicker of a second but the thought clawed its way into her mind. She ripped the blouse open and pulled her bra up, away from her erratic heart, hoping to ease the pressure. Pressure that came from within and chiseled its way outwards, front and back. Daggers, sharp with serrated edges, twisting and turning. Explosions of crucifying, crushing torture.

Nothing had prepared Kate. She’d woken that morning, eager to start another day. To drown in the work that had been piling up and to absorb into her being the atmosphere of the paradise that surrounded her. A world of beauty. Smells and sounds that spoke to her. Whispering. Soothing. An oasis of peace and calm. Now? Fear had wrapped its oppressing tentacles around her and was squeezing. Hard.

Carlos Santini was quick to respond, at Kate’s side in an instant, looking frazzled and inept. He tried to hold her still and offer some comfort as he unbuttoned the remainder of the blouse and managed, with some difficulty, to ease his hands around the back to undo the clasps of the bra she had pushed up. It sprang free and gave her only mild respite.

Kate’s body writhed on the floor as she tried in vain to find a position that might help take away the pain. The strained, hideous sounds leaking from her windpipe sounded alien.

“I can’t breathe. It feels like I’ve been shot in the chest.” The words froze in the back of her throat, unable to make it past her parched lips. She didn’t want to die, not here, not like this. There was no reason why she should instantaneously explode into a wretched mess, groaning pitifully on the cold tile floor.

Then again, was it actually happening? Or was she just feeling someone else’s pain?

Ever since Kate was little she’d had a gift. Well, she didn’t know if it was a gift or a curse. At this particular moment it was definitely a curse. She had some sort of psychic ability. She felt things. Strong things. Like an all knowing from deep within. Sometimes the sensations that came over her were confusing because she didn’t know if what she was feeling was to do with the past or the future. Other times she experienced people’s emotions as if they were her own. At different times too she’d heard voices. Like, real voices in her head as if she had some split personality disorder. It had been happening for so long now that it was easier to deal with. She’d kept her special ability from her parents because telling her father, who was a cop and only saw things in black and white, that she could hear voices would certainly have her committed. And so she’d kept it quiet all these years, trying to figure her gift out on her own, reading books and doing research over the internet.

This pain, this torture that was slicing her open now went so far and above sensations that she’d ever experienced before that it surely had to be real.

She felt Carlos pick her up and carry her out onto the balcony into the fresh air. Kate’s eyes rolled back into her head, an autonomous reaction to the chaos inside her body.

“Just relax and try to breathe gently instead of gasping.”

Kate desperately clung to him, her pale face screwed up tightly as he pulled her down with him, a little too roughly, onto the wrought iron seat in the corner so that she sat on his lap with both legs dangling to one side. Her body was working on its own schedule, sending waves of nausea through her. Carlos was her only hope. The only evidence of life she could feel. Maybe he’d be the last thing on earth she’d ever see. He was thirty-two, born in America. He’d spent the last ten years in Italy for work reasons. They’d met purely by accident and he’d charmed the pants off her.

“Focus on me! Do exactly as I tell you!”

Kate flinched at his tone. Was he angry with her? Frustrated? What the hell? She could be dying and he was getting annoyed? Her hand moved from Carlos’s arm to her chest as she cried out.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!”

“Don’t let me die, Carlos.” Couldn’t he act a little more concerned?

“Then stop over-breathing! Relax!”

“Help…me!” She tried to bring her knees up but was unable to with the way Carlos was holding her.

Red spots appeared behind her eyes as Carlos clumsily massaged her back in circles between the shoulder blades. She could feel herself drifting away on a cloud of oblivion.

“Come on, Kate! Focus on your breath and not on the pain!”

She was bloody well trying to! It’s not like she’d brought this on herself. Jesus! Patience much!

“I can’t… It’s so sore…Carlos.” Fatigue grabbed her, pulling both eyes shut.

“Shit! Stay awake! Don’t pass out on me!”

Her eyes opened halfway, begging for Carlos to do something. She could see the frustration in his eyes and the stress on his face by the way it screwed up into a roadmap of lines and grooves.

“Come on, Kate! Jesus! What’s wrong with you?”

She didn’t have the energy to be angry at his attitude. She just wanted to escape the pain and drift into the black. The exhaustion was overwhelming. Her pulsing blood throbbed in her head.

I have to stay awake. Can’t die. Won’t die. Not after the struggle to get here. Need air. Focus.

She desperately needed oxygen. Very slowly in small gasps she sucked in small pockets of air until her lungs expanded. Her chest heaved with each inhalation.

“Okay, good. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

Just like last time and with every small contraction of her ribcage tearing through her she forced air in, again and again. Each minute sliver of oxygen that filled her lungs kept unconsciousness at bay. Only just.

And so it went. A painstakingly slow process. She breathed in and out. In and out. In and out, thinking of nothing else but each breath, commanding every muscle in her body to surrender and slacken.

After a few minutes of focused gasps, the dizziness seemed to ease a little. Some semblance of respite filtered through.

Suddenly, as if flicking a switch, the fresh, night air filled Kate’s lungs as her chest expanded fully. She felt like she’d been given the breath of life. She drew it in again and again until her body relaxed, letting her head fall to the side on Carlos’ shoulder.

Kate’s chest felt bruised and battered, her pulse weak. The violent pangs gradually subsided.

“What just happened?” Carlos’ voice seemed to have lowered an octave with a steely edge.

She slowly opened her eyes. “I think I may have had a heart attack.” Kate hoped that wasn’t the case though, as trying to get medical help fast would be out of the question with festival day looming and so many tourists swarming the town.

“Heart attack? How can that be? You’re young and fit!”

“I don’t know but there’s no other explanation.” What was with his attitude? Didn’t he cope well with these sorts of things? It would appear not. She knew he had a temper but most of the time it wasn’t aimed at her.

Any other day and she would have questioned his haughty tone but she couldn’t conjure up another ounce of energy to worry about the sensations of unease that seeped into her.

All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep, feeling as if a truck had rolled over her.

Standing up, Carlos carried Kate into the bedroom and pulled the blankets over her. He perched himself on the edge, running his hands over his face. She shut her eyes to block everything out. The last word to pass through her mind was Jake. In the next instant, sleep took over.

Chapter Two

One week later

He slammed his clenched fist onto the red vinyl seat as the train pulled away from Corniglia station towards the small idyllic town of Vernazza, Italy.

The air cooled and heated as the train burst through tunnel after tunnel around the barren cliffs. The salty air from the sea had him close his eyes momentarily, basking in the smell.

After a minute he opened them to eye the buildings that clung to impossible cliffs almost as if they grew out of the rock face instead of being built there centuries ago. As he looked out the window at the town, soaking up the magnificence of the Cinque Terre region during the ninety minute trip, he couldn’t help but feel like this was his destiny. He’d been called here and yet he didn’t exactly know why. It was like there was an invisible cord slowly reeling him in whether he liked it or not.

The solid ground beneath the track seemed to fall away and all that he could see from the window was a sheer drop to the water below. If it weren’t for the bumps and jolts from the rails it would almost appear as if they were flying.

Jake Alexander had traveled this route a hundred times without batting an eyelid, yet this morning his teeth ground together almost painfully. His body was rigid in his seat.

Flashes of fragmented memory flared like a distress beacon across his consciousness, causing him to try and piece together what had transpired days before his journey to Vernazza. Indistinct pictures of running, panic. Lots of people. A carnival.

A voice he couldn’t place kept uttering jumbled words in his mind. A British accent.

What exactly had happened? It was almost like he had partial amnesia and no matter how hard he tried to recall certain things, some force was blocking him from the truth. He could remember most of his life up until the last few days but the piece of the puzzle he needed to remember the most was so hazy. His mouth tightened. One thing he was clear about though was the feeling of dread that arose with each little snippet of information his subconscious chose to feed him. Something major had gone down, of that he was certain. He also knew now that he was not
normal.

He turned to see how many tourists were on the train making the journey to Vernazza with him. As he looked closer he waited for someone to make eye contact or notice him but no one did. He knew why that was.

Unfortunately, partaking in any festive activities was not on Jake’s agenda this visit. Far from it. Instead, he had the overpowering need to find Kate. It was beyond intense and he couldn’t fight it even if he wanted to.

He couldn’t even remember boarding the train, his awareness finding him again moments ago as they’d pulled out of Corniglia station, not knowing what the hell he was doing. The only sensation that gripped him was to find Kate. Why though? How did that fit in to the whole scheme of things? After so long, why would he be so desperate to find her?

“We’ve got your girlfriend!”

Where did that come from? His body tensed further. What girlfriend? He couldn’t remember having a girlfriend recently. More like distractions. Offerings to help numb his mind from
her.
An endless supply of beauties handpicked by The Organization delivered to him on a silver platter whenever he’d had the urge. Most men would have thought themselves in heaven, and for a while Jake had relished in the attention and distraction it had brought him, knowing the interludes were nothing more than meaningless sex. Commitment free. Women whose lives weren’t put in danger because they’d been paid for by the very people Jake had been trying to protect Kate from. Was the term ‘girlfriend’ connected to one of those women? Possibly. If only he could remember.

Distracted, Jake settled his eyes on the sparkling ocean outside. She was close. Bonded even in hatred by a connection so powerful, it left him aching. The only woman who’d ever mattered. The only one who had claimed his heart and yet he’d shattered hers beyond repair.

It wasn’t meant to happen that way. He’d had no choice but to walk away and it had nearly killed him to do so. Feelings he couldn’t leave in the past would continue to haunt him forever unless he at least tried to make amends and heal some of his guilt while trying to figure out if that was the reason he was traveling back to Vernazza. To apologize? To make amends? Had his conscience led him here? If he could only piece together what had transpired in the showdown that had sealed his fate.

He knew one thing, though. With Kate’s psychic ability, she was the only one who could help him, given his current situation. Jake was one of the only people to know about her gift. She’d shared it with him when they’d been a couple and he felt privileged that she’d trusted him enough to confide something that others would consider farcical.

Abruptly his ride stopped. He’d come to the end of the line. The train station was in the center of Vernazza. He’d arrived at the heart of his destination. Pangs of memory swamped him as he alighted with the other passengers and took the steep descent towards the harbor.

Quickly his surroundings faded as thoughts stirred.

Lips divinely seducing him. Stirring something forbidden and untouched. Love? No. More than love. Love didn’t come close. A consuming need to absorb this woman’s essence. To have her 24/7, body, mind and soul. Without that he was just a shadow. A monotone, lonely figure going through the motions of life on auto-pilot.

“Don’t ever leave me!” she pleaded as he held her face and drowned in those pools of hazel.

“You’re mine, Kate. Completely mine. I need you like air and water. I’d die without you.”

He’d broken their pledge though, just weeks later. He’d betrayed her. He’d had no choice. He’d done it to protect her. She had to understand that.

Descending towards the belly of Vernazza, turning left before reaching the harbor, he slowed his gait to barely a crawl. Right now she hated him. He’d ripped her heart out. Not intentionally of course, but she hadn’t known that. Or had she? Had her gift kicked in enough to convince her that there was a damn good reason Jake had left? Maybe the loss had been too great to break through her psychic barriers. 

There was so much she didn’t know, hadn’t been allowed to know. He looked up and down the alley, continuing to move forward until he stopped outside a brightly colored, weathered villa. Her villa. One he’d never been a part of. What was he doing and how did he even know she lived here? A strange pull told him this was the place he needed to be. Without fighting it, he’d let himself be led here. This was it. He knew it without a doubt. Jake didn’t have any ability like Kate but when it came to her, they were connected so powerfully he was like a moth to a flame. Her energy called to him.

The view to the second story balcony was in his direct line of sight. Oversized double doors in need of a good coat of paint clung desperately to the villa beside a green shuttered window, in stark contrast to the watermelon-washed building. Uneven concrete steps to the right, seemingly ascending into the heavens, wound their way steeply to the street above. A stray, runty cat pretentiously jumped down from a window ledge, the fur on its back standing on end. He stooped down to rub its head, convincing himself the distraction would help him settle but to no avail. The cat hissed, arching its back in an act of defense, standing its ground as if trying to win some territorial battle.

He looked up again. Silence. No sign of life. Shit. What now?

“Please be home. Please be home.”

Maybe he’d just take a while to remember what he’d lost: whom he’d lost. What a jackass he’d been! An outright jackass! A regret he’d continue to look back on for all of time, wishing he could go back and change the outcome. He’d had everything he’d ever needed right in front of him and yet somehow it still hadn’t seemed enough. He’d wanted to give her more than he had. He’d wanted to give her the world and yet, it had cost him the very thing he’d so wanted to give her.

Older and wiser now, his mistakes were clear. How could he have been involved in something so dangerous that it had robbed him of everything? What had he been thinking? It didn’t matter now, anyway. It was in the past. He’d reminded himself of that fact every day for the last five years. Each day he’d spent without her had been his own punishment: His own prison.

Glancing at his watch it read 7 a.m. It was still very early. Maybe she was home and still in bed. He hoped to God that was the case. He remembered how Kate had relished her morning sleep-ins. A smile came to his face. You didn’t dare wake her before 8 a.m. or you’d be confronted with her alter ego. A grunt, then a death stare, followed by an expletive and murmurings about it being too bloody early to be up with the birds. She’d then throw the pillow over her head and fall into slumber again. He remembered well. If you knew what was good for you, you’d leave well enough alone. That was then though and this was now. Things had changed. So much time had passed. How could he expect her to be the same person now? How could he expect anything at all?

Running his fingers through his  ebony, windblown hair he held his breath as the light behind the double doors was switched on and the doors opened.

Like an unmoving statue, he waited, clinging to a glimpse of her.

The light from inside the room created shadows against the billowing, sheer fabric, hiding her from him, yet allowing her silhouette to transfix him. He watched her curves move, with and into the sensual fabric. It almost drove him over the edge as he bit his lip. The shadow of her wavy, dark hair looked longer than he remembered as the breeze lifted it from her shoulders and played with it gently. Mesmerized, he imagined her features: slightly older, yet still striking. A couple more lines around those full, moist lips. Long dark lashes framing those bewitching eyes. Just to touch her again and breathe in her smell: the always clean, soapy scent with a hint of perfume. The yearning started to overpower him like a beast, deep within. He grabbed onto a porch pillar that sat to his right and squeezed so hard his knuckles turned white.

A second silhouette moved into view. He recoiled back, staggering until his back hit a wall. The kiss was evident even through the wispy folds of the fabric. The shadow up there should have been him. Could have been him. If not for…

Looking away, he eyed the cat that had its claws out, ready for an attack. It looked disowned, a drifter just like him, cautious and distrustful.

Kate had obviously moved on, learning to trust again. Her soft laughter impaled him, amplified by his own heightened senses. Why shouldn’t she have moved on? He’d long gone from her thoughts, a bitter memory, cursed and forgotten. It shouldn’t have surprised him. Her beauty would surely have hundreds of men falling at her door, pleading for a chance.

Not able to withstand another glimpse, he hurried down the eerily quiet street, letting the morning’s mist swallow him like a ghost.