Addicted In Cold Blood (36 page)

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Xzion has turned me into something I no longer recognize...

Jayme was now keeping a journal. She had to do something with the thoughts, the pent up frustration, so she penned it on paper in the three ring spiral notebook. She made the black words on the paper live in her honor, until she got a hold of the situation and was able to wrestle it to the ground, tame it and make it submit. This would have to do in the interim.

It had been four nights since he touched me. I knew he wanted to, that is what we have though—secrets, promises of revenge, laughs and unbelievable lovemaking. Suffice it to say, as fucked up as the situation is, I love the man, from the top of his black hair, down to his size twelve feet. There’s something sick about that, right? No, I don’t think so anymore. I understand why he has me here, at this point; it is for my own protection. I’m a sitting duck. But there is a way out. I feel the safest with him, it is where I belong. I was sound asleep dreaming about being on the outside, free, but with him. Funny, isn’t it, how the tables have turned? The dream was so real but then I was snapped out of it.

The rustling sheets awoke me. I discovered him between my legs, gripping my hips and taking me there. Nothing like waking up to a bowl of strawberries, a glass of champagne and a gorgeous man’s lips on your pussy, then his hard dick inside of you...and he fucks so beautifully.  I mean, really. The man fucks like his life depends on it...

Jayme continued to drift in and out of her blurry visions as she surveyed the man beside her. She placed her ink pen in the crease of the book as she caressed his image with her love-drunk glances. Her groin sweetly ached from his back-to-back sessions, ravishing her non-stop. A sweet trail of appreciative vertical juice caressed the side of her inner thigh. She’d heard him disappear in the wee hours, and wondered what he was doing; then again, the curiosity no longer propelled her the same way. She accepted what he was now, and he accepted her.

It was time to move on. They’d discussed the FBI again, and he let her know the course of action. In the meantime, she had to lay low. The agents thought for sure she was dead; she almost bit her lip in two as she read the sarcastic emails talking about her as if she were some mangy dog that had gotten out of the fenced backyard. She knew too much now, she would cost them everything if she were to walk out into the world after such an ordeal. Even though she still didn’t know much at all, they’d never believe her, not in a million years.

But this was more serious than that. The later implications were clear—she’d been seen as a hazard. Now, everything had flipped, and she would become public enemy number one after a thorough interrogation, quarantine and a more than likely ‘declaration of insanity’ before being shipped away to another country never to be heard from again...
if
she were lucky. Xzion was the least of her worries, and she was safest with him—she knew this now. He never had to say one word.

She glanced back at him, and ran her fingertips down his chin. He smiled, stretched and yawned. The urge took flight within her and before she knew it, she was below the sheets, holding his shaft and placing the hefty head inside of her open mouth. The corners of her mouth curved as she heard him bellow, so
very
unsophisticated. He gripped the back of her head, slowly pushing himself further inside of her mouth as she licked and sucked the knob to oral perfection. She had him right where she wanted him...he lost his bravado, and became putty in her hand, and soon her mouth.

“Uhhh! Uhhh!” he grunted loudly, heaving, his ass lifting off the bed as he grabbed her harshly, pulling her into him.

He was close. She prepared herself, knowing his excitement and physical joy were dependent upon each tongue move she made. She flung the sheets off to catch his image...

Checkmate.

“Uhhh! Jaaayme! Uhhh!” He rocked, his eyes hooded, and he was so gone...

She held his hips as he jerked rapidly inside of her mouth, the velvety cool cream against her tongue quickly swallowed, until he had no more to give. Then, he fell back against the sheets like a feather on cotton, holding his forehead, but his smile was crystal clear. Without one uttered word, Jayme gathered herself from the bed and made her way out the door to the kitchen. She was hungry—after all, an appetite had been worked. She perused the refrigerator, spying a bottle of water and a freshly cut salad her Love had prepared for her lunch in advance.

So thoughtful...

She grabbed it and a fork, and began to make her way back down the hall. The blue lights as she went past blinked and flashed upon her, saying ‘hello’ in their own special way, reminding her that the security system was still in full effect.

What is in these rooms, Xzion? So many secrets...

She curiously scanned two of the closed doors, tugging gently on the knobs in vain.

He’d never tell me. I want to know what’s in here. Damn it...What’s the code? We are beyond surprises now, Xzion. We are together, a couple. You can trust me.

She stabbed the salad; the fork caught a wedge slice of ripe, ruby red tomato. She popped it into her mouth and made it back down to the master bedroom.

Snores. The man is actually snoring. I’ve never heard him do that before. That BJ must’ve been mind blowing.

She laughed.

Blowing...

Smiling as she made her way back to the bed, she slumped down and ate her salad. Thoughts of the two locked doors continued to enter into her mind.

I know he won’t tell me, won’t let me see.

She continued to wrestle with it...

If I ask, he’ll only get angry, tell me it’s military top secret. I have access to the entire house now, why not those two rooms?

One of the rooms was the lab she’d first seen when she broke into his house. Besides the odd bubbling things, she hadn’t had a chance to totally peruse it. There was a dark partition, right on the other side of the main door, and she wanted to see what was behind it. It would drift in her mind from time to time, like some prize awaited there. Not only that, his efforts to secure that room to the fullest hadn’t gone unnoticed. He’d put a more sophisticated lock on it soon after her arrival...

She rolled her eyes and picked at her plate. Then, it hit her. She’d seen an odd set of keys in a drawer. Rectangular with raised dots, like braille.

I wonder if those fit in the doors? He punches in codes to open them though... Hmmm, I don’t know...but what if the house was on lock down, the power out as he has done from time to time—how would he gain access? Yes...the keys.

She set her empty salad plate on the nightstand and made her way slowly around the bed, tiptoeing, deathly afraid to even exhale.  She pulled out one drawer, holding her breath...

Shit. Not in there.

She watched him stir and turn on his side, a satisfied grin still on his face.

After hearing his even breathing, she opened another drawer and traced the metal latches and odd teeth of the key with nervous fingers. She grasped it, sandwiching it between her hands to muffle the rattle. Soon, she was out in the hall again, the blue light dizzying as she turned from side to side, trying to decide which door to try to open first.

Please work...

She picked one, and slid the key inside. A green light illuminated from the door latch, and she heard it catch. Acting fast, she pulled and it released, sliding abruptly to the left, revealing a room full of boxes and cool air. She cautiously entered. The room reminded her of a skating rink; only it was filled with boxes that were neatly stacked, yet unlabeled. Flicking a switch on the side of the wall, the room turned bright and she made her way around, looking inside boxes only to see that they were filled with folders and papers—things she had no way of understanding. She held up several blueprints that appeared to be to ships with markings on the side, in a language she didn’t understand or identify.

This is so damn strange...looks like a cruise ship, only smaller...

She continued, finding more of the same. Shrugging, she made her way out, and tried the same key on the next door. It didn’t budge.

Shit! He would do this...make it hard; make someone have to jump through hoops.

She tried another. Failed. She tried several more that hung from the steel ring, until finally; she’d located the correct one and understood the secret. You had to press one of the buttons, push the key inside simultaneously then turn to the left. Having an ex-cop boyfriend who specialized in lock picking had finally come in handy. She entered the room, flicked on the light and covered her mouth with both hands.

As she suppressed that scream, the keys accidentally fell to the floor in a loud clank...

His eyes fluttered and he found himself looking up at the ceiling. Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his stiff muscles and scratched the side of his jaw.

Stubble again. I need to shave.

He looked over and saw his lover missing. Initially, he didn’t think much of it, but something inside of him prompted him to go look for her, pronto. Getting to his feet, he slid his pajama pants on. He wanted to remain calm, but that was out the door once he noticed one of his dresser drawers slightly ajar. It caught his eye as if a fly had buzzed past, and his heart stopped for a half second. He made his way closer to it and looked down.

They’re gone.

His heart sank. It shifted, hardened. He touched his chest, wondering if this was what a heart attack felt like. Rushing out of the room and up the hallway, he stopped at an open door. A cool, misty breeze poured from the room. And Jayme was inside, her naked silhouette surrounded by dense fog. He slowly approached her. She seemed oblivious to him drawing near but before he reached her, his chest ached and painful hot flashes consumed his flesh. She turned to him—complete terror in her eyes. He reached for her arm; her lips were blue and cracked, her eyes, glassy. She swatted at his arm, and though her voice was low, he heard her—

“Don’t...touch me.”

He looked around the room, through the fog. He knew what she’d seen, and how could he explain it? This area of the room wasn’t the lab, it wasn’t chock full of charts and graphs...the damn pod was there, smack dab in the middle of the vast room. He looked at the metal contraption, resembling a rocket—his mode of transportation between the two planets and what he used as a carrier pigeon for supplies he needed from home. Beside it was a table with stacks of FBI and CIA documents written in his native language. But worse yet, were the brains—two, to be exact, floating in the tubes.  They’d been sent for him to run the new blood sample testing on. He hadn’t gotten around to moving them to the lab portion of the area, behind the dark partition.

Two of his people perished, overheated, and their bodies were donated to science—their brains, to him. Aton had seen to it. The pod was sent down, he’d received them and was preparing for the studies but now, his world had been exposed to her in strange fragments that she’d never understand.

“Don’t be afraid. I can explain,” was all he could muster. He hadn’t seen that type of terror in her eyes since the moment he’d first caught her in his house so many months ago...

“No,” she whispered, fear apparent in her eyes as she backed away from him and held up her hand. “I’ve been...away from reality too long. Those...are human brains.”

She pointed to them, and kept stepping backward toward the open door. She bumped into a table, causing an avalanche of semi-automatics to fall haphazardly to the floor, along with boxes of bullets. The fog broke some, showcasing shelves of weapons before it was shrouded once again in smoky, cool air. He followed her as she steadily moved away from him. pleading with him nonverbally to not hurt her...

He terrified her, and it was ripping him apart.

“Jayme,” he said. “Nothing I say will make sense to you. The truth won’t make sense to you, because...you’re not in a position to listen.”

She kept backing out of the room, out into the hall. She wasn’t reasoning at that point, yet, he had to keep talking. It was all that he had left.

“I could keep trying to convince you, but you won’t believe me,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “Because I love you, I’m letting you go. I won’t keep you here any longer if it’s against your will. I thought you wanted to be here with me, but now, I can see...” he looked behind him at the brains, then back at her, “that has all changed.”

He turned and walked away, soon returning to her with a bag of clothing. “Here.” He laid it at her feet. She trembled from the cold, and from her vulnerable state. “There are some of your clothes and some money, you’ll need it. If the FBI finds out you’re still alive, they’ll interrogate you, and then kill you, Jayme. They don’t place people away anymore—this is a new breed. They are ruthless. I didn’t tell you this before, because I didn’t see how it mattered, but now, it does. Look, the agents you have been dealing with are in a secret division, within the agency—that makes them all the worse. It means that the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing. No one but
they
know about what you’ve been doing...” He sighed. Her look of fear seemed to transform to pure hatred. He couldn’t decide which was worse.