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   Chapter 6 No.6

My Sister's Keeper By Bill Benners Characters: 5588

Updated: 2018-05-28 10:57


I GRIPPED THE DOORKNOB, turned it slowly, and pushed the door open. Except for a pair of white stockings from mid-thigh down, Ashleigh was stark naked. She lay amid a mountain of pillows with her arms thrown back over her head and her legs cocked outward at the knees. Half a dozen lighted candles scented the room and provided the only light. The sight of her took my breath away. She looked like a movie star—Julia Roberts in person, naked.

My internal control system changed gears and my movements slowed.

She raised a Polaroid camera high and giggled. "Take my picture, Mr. Photographer."

I snickered. "You're not going to get much of a picture with that thing."

"I don't care. I just want to see what it looks like."

I sipped my drink, set it on the dresser, took the camera, and stepped back. My heart thumped hard in my chest as I framed her in the viewer. She puckered her lips and cut her eyes at me.

"Don't try to look sexy, " I said. "Just relax." Her face softened and her eyes smiled. "Bring your chin down just a little. That's it." I rose on my toes and pressed the shutter release. The camera's tiny strobe blasted the room with light and a motor pushed the undeveloped photograph out the front and left it hanging there. She pushed the pillows aside and patted the bed next to her. "Now, take one for me. You don't have to be naked, just get up here with me."

"I don't think so, " I said, pulling the self-developing photo from the camera and tossing it on the dresser.

"Please. The two of us." She rolled onto her side. "Just this once."

I could hardly hear the thunder for the blood rushing in my ears. "Why would you want a photo

h was gone and my limbs tingled. I raised my head and whispered, "Please, Ashleigh."

"What's with you? Are you gay?"

I saw my father's eyes glaring at me and felt the same heaviness in my heart that I always feel explaining myself to him. I shook my head from side to side, but no words came. My skin felt cold and the bed began to turn. My heart hammered against the walls of my chest and sweat ran down my neck. I threw my head back and gulped air.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I think…I need…to go." I tried to move, but fell back against the bed.

"Do you want another drink?"

The bed spun faster and my eyes rolled back into my head. I tried to raise my hand, but my arm wouldn't co-operate. Damn. How much have I had to drink?

"Ashleigh, " I whispered. "Can you…help me up?"

Straddling me on her hands and knees, she lifted my left eyelid and studied my pupil. "Don't worry, Richard Baimbridge. You'll be just fine." She licked my cheek and that's the last thing I remember until I awoke with a splitting headache around 3:30 a.m. laying on the deck outside my back door in a cold rain.

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