Honesty - SF8 by Susan X Meagher Read Free Book Online

had the longer hair. Both siblings wore heavy denim work shirts, nearly hiding Ryan’s most identifiable asset. Luckily, her full breasts poked out just enough to provide the means to I.D. her, and Jamie approached her gingerly, not wanting to touch the crud that covered her. "What did they do? Drag you over the roof until the shingles disintegrated?"
    "No," Ryan laughed, "but it felt that way. 30 years of San Francisco dirt was infused into those shingles, and I think about half of it is on us. I almost called a cab so I didn’t get my car dirty."
    "You get downstairs and get in the tub," Jamie ordered. "And don’t you dare take those clothes down with you. You strip right here."
    Both O’Flahertys gave her guilty looks as they started to peel out of their clothes. The smaller woman blinked in surprise, but Conor assured her, "I’ve seen Ryan in her undies hundreds of times. No biggie."
    "Well I haven’t seen you in yours!" Jamie cried, scampering down the stairs to the laughter of the siblings.
     
    "Conor! Ryan! Dinner’s ready!" A few minutes after the call, Conor came slowly down the stairs, his body feeling the stress of balancing on the peaked roof for the better part of a day. When Jamie heard no activity from the basement she went down to fetch her partner.
    Poking her head into the bath, she found her sound asleep in a tub full of murky water. Thank God she’s got such long legs! She would have drowned if her body could have sunk down low enough!
     
    It started like all of the others, and even in her dream Ryan groaned and cried, "Not again!" But even though she fought it, the old nightmare began to play out and she was drawn into the scene, just as she had been so many times before.
    She parked her motorcycle and turned slightly to make eye contact with her passenger, puzzled to find Jamie smiling back at her. Jamie?
    The smaller woman swung her leg over the bike, lightly holding on to Ryan’s shoulder for stability. She stood there patiently while Ryan got the bike secured, but when the taller woman turned back to say something she was hit by a jolt of raw fear when she saw the panicked look in the green eyes. Whirling around, she saw him, her mind struggling with the image of a lone man coming for them. That’s weird. It’s always a group , her dream observer commented. And it’s always young guys.
    As their assailant approached, Ryan saw the length of pipe in his hand and her eyes fluttered closed as she braced herself for what she knew was going to be a blast of gut-wrenching pain. She waited for the first blow, which always broke two ribs on her left side, her entire body tensed with anticipation. But the blow didn’t come--and she cracked opened her eyes to find a scene more painful than the original attack had been.
    Jamie was now standing next to her assailant—who removed the stocking cap from his face to reveal Jim Evans’ malevolent visage. The look on Jamie’s face was cold and remote as she spat, "It’s not safe to be with you." Then she turned and left with him, as Ryan crumpled to her knees, the pain greater than it had ever been when the pipe broke her body, piece by piece. She collapsed onto the ground, and curled into a fetal position, crying piteously as her heart broke.
     
    The sound of her own tears woke her, and she fought to escape the dream, finally realizing that she was in her bed, and that Jamie was right beside her. They had drifted apart during the night, and that allowed her to slide out of bed unnoticed. She stumbled over to the loveseat and sank into the cushions, leaning her head back to catch her breath.
    She glanced at her watch and saw that it was only four a.m., far too early to get up. Her heart slowly resumed its normal beat, and she grew chilled, the perspiration that covered her body turning ice cold.
    Going to the linen closet, she retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around her body. Then she sat with her back against one of the arms of the loveseat, her