Addicted In Cold Blood (33 page)

“I was thinking,” Xzion said as he placed his computer between the two of them on the large bed. He put the television on mute. “You might like to go out somewhere, get some fresh air. We haven’t been out in a while. We...can’t go out anywhere around here, obviously, but...I can drive you somewhere, and maybe we can do something recreational for a change. It needs to be at night, though. Is there anything you’d like to do?” He had to offer; he needed her to be healthy. She wasn’t an animal in a cage and though he wanted her guarded from the rest of the world due to the bounty on her head, he knew he had to keep her sane, mind, body and soul. He was trying to keep her as contented as possible.

She stared at him, stunned. She was continuously allowed access to certain areas of the house, but still not allowed outside of it. Never asking why, she seemed to simply accept it. Anything she asked for or appeared to desire, except
that
, he provided. She invited him back into his bedroom right after they’d made love the first time, and he happily complied. He knew that she may try to hurt him, but he wasn’t concerned. He always remained somewhat alert, even in a sleeping state. The small risk was worth it. He wasn’t sure why she asked—he only hoped it wasn’t out of obligation or fear...or to keep tabs on his murdering tallies. In reality, he didn’t give it much thought anymore. Things were moving as they should, and he enjoyed his time with her immensely. The air mattress was beginning to hurt his back anyway, and he wanted a restful evening...right next to her. He suffered in silence, turning up the heat for her comfort level, but as long as he was beside her, he felt so much better.

“This really surprises me.”

“I’m sure it does.” He glanced at the television.

“I could run away.” She grinned. A playful smile, child-like, taunting.

“Or you could stay.”

He looked at her closely, mixed emotions brewing.

“Xzion,” she put her hand on his arm, “no worries, I won’t try to run away. What would I do now anyway? And besides, I still need you, remember?”

Yes, the FBI...

They’d been discussing how to go about it for days. A plan was in the works, one both would be happy with. It simply needed some fine tuning, the logistics worked out. Revenge would be sweet.

...And her response seemed truthful, genuine, as she leaned in closer to him, studying his features, especially his eyes.

“There is a carnival that I used to go to as a kid, in Pennsylvania. I had a friend that lived there, and every late March or early April, there would be this great festival. It still runs. It’s fun, how about that?”

Xzion deliberated over her request. He found out quickly that this was the part of being in love that sucked. When you didn’t want to do something, you often did, because you wanted to make your partner happy. But if the choice was wrong, there was typically a hefty price to pay.

That’s a lot of people...a carnival.

He’d seen photos of carnivals, festivals and the like. They had some on his planet as well. He had an idea of what to expect, and it rubbed him the wrong way. But, this was what she wanted. He could, once and for all, be her hero—the source of her happiness. He could be her sun, perfume and emotions, the water drops on her shoulder, all rolled into one. He never lost his mind, but she was changing him, day by day, minute by minute, turning him into something he didn’t want, or maybe he did...of that, he still wasn’t yet sure. Regardless, it was happening. They’d declared it to one another on more than one occasion. It got worse for him each time he made love to her. He’d reach for her, demanding her to come to him and she never resisted—sometimes, she was the initiator.  He’d never fucked so much in all of his life, and it still was
never
enough. She was...addictive.

“Alright. We’ll go there—that’s about a three hour drive, perhaps a bit less, it’s doable. It will get us far enough away for me to feel okay about this and you’ll get what you want...some place new to look, outside, in the open.” He sighed and leaned back against the headboard, catching her from his peripheral view... and not missing the gigantic smile on her pretty face.

*
***

Aton pivoted in his seat and glanced lazily out the window. He watched the young children, all warriors and in need of preparation, dressed in their black military uniforms, walking past, their backs straight, hair freshly cut and not one peep coming from their drawn mouths. None of them compared to Xzion, and that was what made this so troubling.

He turned away from the scene and pushed the red button on his phone, cleared his throat and leaned forward.

“Vaelord, I need your assistance. I believe we may have a serious situation to contend with. It concerns Xzion.”

“What seems to be the issue?” a husky voice replied.

“He has fallen behind on assignments and is not returning calls in a timely manner. This is completely out of character. He has also disabled my remote view, stating that he is re-doing the sub system. I do not believe that, however.  Xzion can make repairs fairly quickly; this has been going on for weeks. Something, or someone, has distracted him. Of this, I am almost certain.”

“Not to question your theory, Aton, but are you sure it isn’t a coolant issue? This doesn’t sound like Xzion at all. You know how prideful he is and how much promise we put in his abilities. He’d hate to fail. He may be physically struggling and doesn’t wish to admit it.”

“I have asked him several times and his answer was the same—that he is tired, or things were complicated. He doesn’t give specifics and rushes away from the conversation. I also asked if he was overheating, and though he does on occasion, admittedly, it does not seem to be interfering in his performance. Additionally, his home is equipped to give aid, as well. He has all of the state of the art cooling systems throughout, though he still prefers ice baths.”

“I see. Are there any additional concerns?”

“Yes...there is something else. I also sent him several new formulas to try on the samples, to see if it could be synthesized in a different or easier manner, and as of yet, I have not received further word.” Aton fisted his hand, trying to control himself. A difficult task.  “At this point, I think we need to pay Xzion a visit. I want you and two of your troops to accompany me to Earth. I am launching an investigation. We will meet later today regarding this matter and map out our journey.”

What are you hiding, Xzion?

*
***

Xzion circled around once more, trying to find an ideal parking space. Jayme noted the twinge of nervousness about him, something she hadn’t perceived before. This man, who murdered on a continuous basis, was actually looking edgy. He was typically borderline cocky, but since they’d confessed their love to one another, he seemed far more cautious about how he came across. She heard him tell her he loved her, and she knew he believed it. His lovemaking was so intense, almost manic. She could barely get away to sleep for a few hours and when he took her, her entire body went into another land , leaving her mind behind. He seized her soul and ran away with it as he showered her temple with the sweetest of kisses. The way he looked at her during sex gave her chills. Not in a disturbing way, but in the all-consuming, loving way. He seemed filled with passion. The man she’d once coined as robotic and emotionless was the exact opposite. She had no idea how she’d gotten him pegged so wrong.

He pulled into a spot and quickly shut off the car. The lights from the rides reflected in his eyes, yellow dots spinning around and around. The sounds of yelling, laughing and old German-style music played along with the occasional microphone driven voice announcing deals on salty pretzels, cotton candy and the sale of raffle tickets for old-fashioned cake walks and coin tosses.

Without hesitation, Jayme took his hand and like magic, she watched his visible trepidation melt away, his frown replaced with a smile and his right eye twinkling brighter under the lights. There was no snow on the ground, and the temperature was tolerable, unlike during the holidays. She’d done nothing in particular to earn such a reward or privilege, or so she thought.

They’d made love once again right before leaving the house, and she was hanging on a cloud, the coolness inside her pussy dissipating. She had wondered what his plans were for her, after they took care of their mutual enemy, but she didn’t go there. She accepted that she loved this man, and it bothered her on every level. But when he asked her to stay with him earlier that day, he wanted her to be there willingly. He posed the question…

“If I unlocked the house, and you could come and go as you please, would you stay with me...like a real couple?”

“Yes.”

When she answered, his eyes went wide, as if he didn’t believe her. What scared her most was that she meant it, though she knew he’d need more convincing and that it still wasn’t the smartest move—they had to play this cool.

I’m not leaving, Xzion.

She shook her head as she unraveled the mystery of his mind to the best of her ability while they continued to walk. She’d learned so much about him, but so much was still a great mystery. She reflected on when her feelings toward him had changed. The first kiss they shared after making love wasn’t manufactured—she’d meant every moment of it as their lips pressed together and she slicked her hand down his chest, feeling the hard pecks beneath her fingertips. Now, they were partners in crime. In the daytime, she’d plot revenge, talking to Xzion about her ideas, bouncing them off of him. Revenge was what drove her. She ate it up, feeling herself turn into a monster, but all she had was time on her hands and no desire to stop the internal battle. Her mind worked overtime while he overwhelmed her and turned her world upside down. Initially, he urged that they should wait to make a move; he wanted perfect timing, though she was suspicious of his motivations for a continuum.

On the other hand, he knew them better than she did, and though she tried to not let it happen, she began to trust him. Little by little, he’d show her things, explain them, making himself clearer to her. He went into detail that he had a medical condition that would cause him to become overly hot, and that was why ice was all around the house. He didn’t have to explain that or offer it, but he did and she appreciated it. Jayme thought about all the things that were going on in the house, inconsequential things, even down to his bizarre eating habits. His meat was always extra rare, his vegetables plentiful, and he seemed to naturally gravitate toward a low carb diet that was pretty much meat based...bloody as if he’d just hunted it himself.

Sometimes, after he made her home-made waffles and melt-in-your mouth omelets, he’d juice a blended beverage for the evening before bed. She’d watch him throw cucumbers, pineapples and beets into a glass blender, then drink it down whole, right from the pitcher. His body didn’t have an ounce of fat, but he fed her like she was royalty. He cooked for her practically every morning and evening and one thing was for sure—while he was with her, no one was being murdered. For that, she was grateful.

She began to realize that this strapping man had physical quirks, but it didn’t appear to stop him, or make him dodge life or this enigmatic drug dealer mission of his. He made it clear that he could survive fine on a hot, 95 degree day, only, it wouldn’t be ideal. And truly, when is life always ideal?

One nagging question, though, he repeatedly dodged—the odd scar on his wrist. She’d seen it soon after he’d entrapped her, but didn’t get the view of it she’d wanted until recently as he kept it partially covered with a watch. Shaped like a bloody rectangle with several bumpy areas, it looked as if he’d been freshly cut and burned with a cigarette, only the holes were raised and appeared to glow. She wondered what other secrets he had, such as the peculiar laboratory with floating blood and strange electric currents caught in test tubes. What in the world was he doing?

She knew better than to press her luck, however. He’d gotten miffed when she asked again about his wrist, disappearing afterward for over three hours. Certain lines she wasn’t allowed to cross, and if she wanted to keep everything kosher and not rock the boat, she knew to heed his warnings. The slightest misstep could undo all of her efforts and lest she admit it, make her new relationship with him suffer. He’d disclose when he was good and ready; she just needed to keep the pace, one foot in front of the other.

As they continued to walk, she felt a bit woozy, the colors blurring and people laughing loudly all around her. She looked in several directions, seeing areas in which she could run away into the crowd, and zigzag, forcing him to give chase. She could scream how she’d been kidnapped, cause a ruckus, but...she wouldn’t. She had no desire to, yet the cop in her checked around anyway, measuring her surroundings, always on the lookout.

She glanced at him. He seemed to be full of child-like amazement; if she didn’t know any better, she’d think he trusted her explicitly. He looked up at the rides, like he’d never seen a Ferris wheel before. He watched the billowy, pink cotton candy being spun and truly appeared amazed, even pointing at it, but made no comment.

She squeezed his hand and motioned toward the Ferris wheel. “You wanna ride? I do.” She grinned up at him, reaching toward his chin and lightly caressing it.

“Yeah, sure. Um, don’t we need to get tickets or something?” He pointed toward a ticket booth.