I heard a wet cough and imagined Natashya on the floor, blood gurgling from her lips and painting the cold concrete floor in dark crimson. Fuck… the last thing I wanted to do was have that image burned into my brain, but I couldn’t help myself. With my head turned away from the gruesome scene, I opened my eyes just enough to peer out of the corner and see… something wholly unexpected.
The man holding the gun to Natashya’s was clutching his throat as blood spilled around his fingers and from the corners of his mouth. The gun dangled from one limp finger a moment longer before it slipped free and clattered across the floor. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, giving me a clear view of the doorway and the person who stood in it, gun pointed at the body of Natashya’s would-be killer. Chloe. She had an unarmed man a couple of inches taller than her in some kind of hold, the entire half of his lower face a bloody mess; one arm hung limply at his side.
I wasn’t the only one looking around in confusion. Two guards had been flanking their leader on the left and two on the right. While I was processing everything that had just happened, they were doing the same. One dropped to a knee beside his leader, and two began swinging their weapons around wildly. The remaining one was a touch quicker than the others. He turned his slick-bald head toward the door and brought his weapon to bear on the intruder.
Chloe reacted in the same moment, kicking the man she was holding and sending stumbling into Baldy. It momentarily prevented him from training his rifle on her as it got caught on the torso of the man thrown at him. The movement caught the attention of the other guards, who trained their weapons on my bodyguard, and she took a shot at the third guard who had been standing just to the right of his commander - a blonde man with close-cropped hair.
Blondie’s ear exploded in a geyser of pink mist as three of them opened fire at Chloe’s head just as she disappeared around the corner of the doorway. The gunshots were deafening in the mostly empty concrete storage room, and I could barely hear Natashya screaming as she dove to the ground, her hands over her head.
Baldy shoved Chloe’s victim aside so he could take precise aim, and the new, bloodied guard dove over Natashya’s prone form and on top of Leader’s body, scrambling for sidearm with his remaining functional arm. The woman with the glasses who stood off to the side threw her arms over her head and dashed away from the firefight, disappearing from view somewhere behind me. I heard her shout something I couldn’t quite make out, and the man who had wanted to kill me replied with something equally unintelligible.
The chair hung from my bloody wrists as I struggled to stand, unwilling to sit there and be collateral damage. None of them were paying any attention to me… maybe I could get the drop on them or provide some sort of distraction to make it easier for Chloe. At the very least, I could dive on top of Natashya and give some kind of cover for her. She’d been through enough.
The four guards fired several more shots at the edge of the door and the wall next to it, shredding the metal frame where Chloe’s head had been only moments ago. Then, someone peered around the other side of the frame. Crouched low, Shea fired two rounds at the goon to the farthest right, who looked like the oldest of the bunch. She hit him in the thigh with the first shot and the side with the second one. Her head disappeared around the edge of the frame just before the remaining three mercenaries changed their focus on her.
The older merc dropped to a knee as he screamed out in pain, reflexively grabbing his leg as he cursed. Chloe peered around the door and fired a single shot, catching him above the left eyebrow and sending his lifeless body the rest of the way to the floor. At the same time, I saw Jon round the corner of Shea’s side of the door and put two bullets in Baldy’s chest before disappearing. Chloe ducked back as well. Three goons down. Two left. Well, two and a half if you counted the plus-one Chloe had brought to the party.
The plus-one rolled onto his back and sat halfway up with his gun trained at the door as Shea peeked around the corner. She took a bullet to the shoulder as she fired three shots, putting the half-dead man out of his misery. I had just managed to fully right myself and nearly toppled over out of concern when she’d been shot, but she merely vanished from sight, leaving a smear of blood on the doorframe where she’d been just moments ago. She disappeared just in time to miss a bullet that instead carved a chunk of concrete where she’d just been. Jon tried to peer around the same corner a second later and nearly got his head blown off, ducking back before he managed to fire a shot.
One ankle was still bound firmly to my chair leg, but I managed to shake the other one loose; the cuff had been latched to the underside of the chair’s stretcher instead of over it like the other, allowing it to slip free now that the entire thing hung a few inches off the ground as it dangled off my wrists. It wasn’t much, but at least I could semi-walk.
The first guard to the left, who appeared to have burn scars on his face, ran up to the wall next to the door, pressing himself flat against it while holding his rifle at the ready. Blondie, who’d been the one to nearly take Jon’s head off, backed up a couple of feet, crouched down, grabbed Natashya by the hair, and hauled her to her feet. He held her in front of him and pressed the barrel of the gun to her head. Natashya struggled against his grip until she felt the cold steel press into the side of her face. A half-scream-half-sob escaped her lips.
“Fucking drop it!” he demanded. “Drop your guns now, or I’ll kill the fucking bitch!”
“You kill her,” Chloe called out coldly, “and you won’t leave here alive.”
I stepped forward as quietly as possible, watching warily as the man pressed against the wall inched near the door. My wrists burned so badly I wanted to scream as the cold metal bit into my raw, bleeding flesh. I did my best to ignore it as I stepped forward until I was within a few feet of the man. I thought I’d lost Natashya; I wasn’t going to lose her again.
“You forgetting ab-”
I lept at the man and crashed into him, aiming for his gun in hopes that it would be enough to move the barrel away from Natashya. I felt my head slam into the gun as my body connected with his, and I let out a wordless yell that was drowned by the sound of gunfire as we both crashed to the floor.
With my hands still bound behind the chair, there wasn’t much else I could do at this point. I simply tried to wriggle my body on top of him and slam my head into his face. My first stroke caught him on his cheekbone; there was enough force behind my strike that I bounced his head off the concrete like a basketball. I heard more gunshots go off behind me, but all I could do was hope that they were from the good guys and not the bad guys.
Blondie kicked me off him and rolled on top of me as the fingers of one hand closed around my windpipe, and he began to squeeze. I flailed my one free leg, trying to knee him in the back… doing anything to get him off me.
Then Natashya’s face appeared over his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck, and she screamed. I watched in horror as she brought her mouth to his remaining ear and sunk her teeth into the tender pink flesh and cartilage. The man began to scream, loosening his grip on my throat as he started to stand, taking Natashya with him, clinging to his back like a spider monkey.
Coughing and enjoying breathing again, I watched as he spun around and thrashed at the dancer, but she just wouldn’t let go; she pulled her head back, and blood began gushing down his neck as part of his ear tore free from his skull. Then Chloe stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the face, pulled it back, and buried the entire blade of a large knife under his chin and up into his head. The reaction was immediate; the mercenary dropped to the ground, and Natashya fell with him. She released her grip on his ear and let out a scream, pounding on his back with her fists and cursing in a language I didn’t understand.
Jon stepped past the three of us, ignoring us soundly as he made his way to the back of the large room where supposedly the other two were. Meanwhile, Shea had walked into the room and put two bullets into Baldy, ending his life. She quickly moved over the other corpses but seemed satisfied that they were dead enough until she came to Leader. Apparently, he wasn’t completely dead yet, so she put one in his head.
“All clear,” she called out.
A moment later, Emily cautiously peered into the room, looked around, and slipped in, followed by John. Emily looked unscathed, but John had one arm in a sling. He joined Chloe near Natashya, and the pair took some time to calm the beaten dancer down while Emily rushed over to kneel next to me.
“Marcus!” She looked me up and down and then inspected the handcuffs. She looked over her shoulder at the others, “Do any of you see keys? He has handcuffs on!”
“Natashya,” I wheezed, my throat still sore from nearly having the life choked out of me, as well as all the screaming I’d done.
“She’s okay,” Emily said, looking back down at me. She gave me her sweet smile, her kind, red-rimmed eyes brimming with unshed tears. An involuntary sob escaped her, and she nodded. “You’re both gonna be okay.”
“What did they do to her?” I asked. “She looked rough.”
Emily chewed on her bottom lip and looked back at Natashya. I could tell she was torn between taking care of me and wanting to better understand how her new friend was actually doing. She looked back down at me and tried in vain to stifle another sob. “You both do, Marcus.”
I could feel tears stinging my own eyes and attempted to blink them away. A few escaped, and I could feel them sliding down my cheeks - a testament to the grief over almost losing Natashya and the relief of seeing that my sister hadn’t suffered the same fate.
“Thank god she’s not dead,” I breathed and laid my head back down on the concrete. “I thought they killed her. They said they had you. Em… I was so scared they had you.” All that work Emily had done over the past year hadn’t been undone in a single night. She was safe.
“Here,” Shea called out. Emily looked at her just in time to see the masseuse tossing a small set of silver keys. My sister caught them in one hand and immediately set to work, freeing me of my chains. Bless her… getting those cuffs off my wrists felt better than sex. I held up one hand and examined the oozing ring of raw, red flesh. The lack of metal around my wrist didn't mean the pain was immediately gone. Both of them felt like they’d been held against a stove burner.
“We have to get moving,” Chloe said and looked toward the back of the warehouse. “Sound off!”
“Clear back here,” Jon said from behind a small stack of boxes. He appeared a moment later, gun still in hand. “That other door’s unblocked now. Looks like they took advantage of it.”
“Shit,” Chloe said. “I was counting on questioning the woman.”
“Who was she?” I asked.
“Let’s get you back to the plane,” Chloe said without answering my question. “We’ll tell you what we know as soon as we get back there.”
“What’s the hurry?” I asked as John approached me and traded off with Emily, helping me to my feet while my sister did the same for Natashya. I groaned as John slid his shoulder under my arm and felt every single one of my ribs. Something in my shoulder popped, and any pressure I put on my right leg was met with severe pain. I tried to put on a brave face, but any significant pressure on the injured leg elicited an involuntary hiss of pain. I really hoped it wasn’t broken; the last thing I needed was three months of walking around on crutches… it wouldn’t do much good for the intimidating businessman image I wanted to cultivate.
I heard Emily muttering to Natashya as she helped her upright. The dancer snaked an arm around my sister’s shoulders and buried her face in the crook of Emily’s neck, and I could hear quiet sobbing. My sister just held her tight and took a few moments to console her.
“You alright?” John asked, looking at me.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. I just got several hours of the GITMO treatment. That’s all.”
“You’re lucky,” John said as we walked toward the door. Well, he walked. I hobbled. “You could have ended up in much worse shape.”
I guess,” I said. “A couple of them really seemed to have it in for me. Much more than a day, and I would’ve been done for.”
Chloe, Jon, and Shea had stepped into the hall and made sure it was clear as we approached the door. My bodyguard was barking orders like some black ops commando in a movie, Shea seemed to be completely ignoring the wound in her shoulder, and Jon had slung a couple of the rifles over his shoulder and confiscated Leader’s gun before falling in line behind them.
“What do you mean?” John asked as we approached the doorway. “You’ve been gone nearly three days?”
“Wait… what?” I asked, my head snapping up.
“Three days,” John repeated as he peered through the doorway. Our three armed companions were down the hall, and Jon motioned behind us to give the ‘all clear.’ We followed them down the hall with Emily and Natashya on our heels.
“Em,” I said, “what day is it?” I don’t know why I asked her as if
hadn’t known.
“Monday morning. Why?” Emily said, only a little breathless despite doing half of Natashya’s walking. She had several inches on Natashya, and even though she wasn’t quite as in shape as the dancer, it didn’t seem to be much of an issue.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Three days?”
It felt like I’d been down there less than a day. How long had I been unconscious? What had they done to me to make me so disoriented that three days felt closer to one? It didn’t make sense.
“I can’t remember much of it,” I admitted, my head sagging as I felt defeated. It was bad enough that I’d been captured and beaten around like a pinata, but to not be able to trust my own mind to keep up with the time? This whole thing was a hell of a wake-up call. Most guys think they have some kind of strategy in case they get in a situation like this. I hadn't been prepared for what happened to me, and here John was telling me I had gotten off light. I felt like a weak, naive fool.
Gunfire amplified by the smooth, concrete hallways interrupted any other thoughts of self-pity, and Chloe backed around one corner as we approached her. “Get back!” she yelled at us, bringing John and me to an abrupt halt. John leaned me against the wall and pulled Leader’s pistol from Jon’s back pocket. He flipped off the safety and checked behind us as the other three fired down the hallway in some sort of well-practiced pattern.
Emily brought Natashya next to me, and the three of us flattened against the wall to keep out of the way of the professionals. John walked past us, his sights trained in the other direction for any hint of danger while the other three dealt with the immediate threat. I got a better look at Natashya; her mouth and chin were coated in fresh blood as well as a healthy amount of dried blood, but aside from a split lip and severe bruising on the right side of her face, I didn’t see anything that would have caused that kind of bleeding.
“Is all that blood yours?” I asked.
Her shoulders were stooped, and her face appeared grave. She met my gaze and shook her head. I watched as a fresh tear slipped from her eyes. She tried to blink it away, and she looked away from me. God… what had this poor woman suffered just because she’d been associated with me?
Despite the sadness and hurt in her eyes, a smoldering fire behind that mask of pain reminded me of Natashya’s strength. The dancer had been damaged in what was obviously some horrific ways, but she was a fighter, and I suspected she was far from broken. I placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed her; I felt her flinch ever so slightly under my touch and immediately removed my hand. Right then, I made a promise to myself that I would do whatever it took to help Natashya recover from this.
“All clear,” Chloe called out.
“Still clear,” John responded.
“Let’s move!” Chloe said and disappeared around the corner. Jon waited around the other corner while John backed up to us again and ducked under me again. We started hobbling down the hall and passed two fresh bodies; one of them had a hole in his head just above the right temple, while the other looked like he’d suffered several shots to the chest. The second one stared up at me with lifeless eyes as we passed by, and it suddenly dawned on me that before this trip, I’d never seen a dead body outside of a funeral. Now, I’d seen… what… eight ten? Losing count of something like that wasn’t a good sign.
Just behind us, we heard someone shout, “Hey! Stop!” When we didn’t, there were a few shots fired.
“Fuck!” Chloe swore. “Move it!”
We did just that. I hobbled along beside John as quickly as I could, glancing behind us when I saw two men open fire just as we turned another corner. Drywall exploded as the bullets ripped it into sheds, sending plumes of fine dust through the air behind us.
Ahead, I could see a set of double doors up ahead and what looked like a pool of crimson spread across the floor in front of it.
“John! Pick him up! Move!” Chloe said. “Emily, can you carry her?”
“Yes!” Emily exclaimed, looking panicked.
"Then fucking carry her!”
John let out a frustrated groan and said, “Get on my back, sir!”
“Oh, Christ!” I said but didn’t hesitate to do as he suggested. I could barely walk, let alone run.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Emily taking a page out of John’s book and hauling Natashya over her shoulders before following on our heels. In the low light, my sister’s startlingly light grey eyes almost seemed to reflect the moonlight, wide with fear as she raced behind us.
Chloe and Shea were running behind us, but at a slower pace, taking time to look behind them. Sure enough, a man peered around the corner a few moments later, and Shea fired off a couple of rounds. Then she tossed down the gun and said, “I’m out!”
Chloe tossed her a gun and fired off another round at someone else. That was all I saw as John hit the glass double doors and sprinted toward a dark SUV. As soon as he reached it, he threw open the back door, tossed me in like a duffel bag, and then disappeared around the driver’s side.
Treating Natashya with more care, Emily ran past me, opened the back passenger door, and helped her friend gingerly crawl into the back seat before climbing in after her. She spun around and gripped the back headrest as she stared at the doors of the building where we’d just escaped, waiting for the others.
The engine fired to life, and John called out, “I have my orders! We’ve got ten seconds. Twenty tops. If they aren’t in here by then, we’re leaving!”
“What!?” Emily said.
“What!?” I exclaimed.
John didn’t respond. We all waited in silence, listening to the sound of the motor purr and several more shots from within the building.
And then the gunfire stopped.
A heartbeat or two passed, and John said, “We have to leave, sir!”
“The fuck we are,” I called from the back, eyes fixed on the double doors. “I’m not-”
The doors opened, revealing Chloe, Shea, and Jon as they sprinted toward us.
A silhouette appeared behind them, and Jon took a shot, forcing whoever it was out of sight.
“Get in!” Chloe bellowed, her blonde hair flying wildly behind her as she closed in on the SUV. Jon passed the back of the SUV and jumped in the front passenger seat. As soon as Shea and Chloe dove into the back with me, John floored it. The back wheels flung gravel high into the air as our getaway car quickly picked up speed and moved out of the warehouse parking lot.
“Gun!” Chloe barked, reaching out one arm as Jon handed her one of the rifles he confiscated. She turned around and brought the weapon to bear just as three more men ran out the front door, looking like they were about to open fire. Chloe fired several shots, causing them to dive for cover.
After leaving the drive and disappearing behind a fence, we heard a few more shots go off, but nothing hit us, and in a few moments, we left them far behind. Chloe reached up and shut the door to the back of the SUV, leaving the interior eerily quiet after being subjected to so much chaos.
I’d propped myself up on my elbows, watching the entire affair, and as soon as it seemed safe, I dropped back and inadvertently found my head in Shea’s lap. She leaned against the back of the rear seat, gingerly pulling the collar of her shirt down her shoulder to examine her bullet wound, and I looked up at her.
“You okay?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse.
She glanced down at me, and a smile graced her pleasantly plump lips as she ran her fingers through my hair. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot.”
I glanced at her wounded shoulder and said, “Something tells me you’re not just a masseuse.”
Her smile deepened, and she let out a small “hmm.” Then she said, “Who do you think referred me to Erin?” She glanced at Chloe.
I looked at my bodyguard, who had pulled out her phone and was tapping away furiously at the small screen. I had so many fucking questions for that woman.
Unfortunately, they would have to wait. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion overtake me. I could feel every muscle in my body, and more than half of my skin felt like it was on fire from all the welts I’d received. I’d been captured for three days. How much of that had been actual sleep? Before I could even guess, I nodded off, noting somewhere in the back of my mind the whisper of asphalt under tires and the distant sound of police sirens.
I’m not sure how long I was out, but when my eyes fluttered open, I was no longer staring up into Shea’s exotic features or Chloe’s soccer mom good looks. Instead, I was looking up into a set of piercing blue eyes under the shaggiest pair of eyebrows I had ever seen. He looked more like Albert Einstein and less like the Victoria’s Secret models I seemed to surround myself with. I blinked at him, and he looked down at me and huffed, his bushy, iron-grey mustache fluttering.
“Looks like the patient is awake,” he said in the gravely voice that was probably inherited from decades of smoking. He reached down and ripped the velcro cuff off my arm. “Welcome back. Glad you’re not dead. I’d have only been paid half my rate.”
He turned and strode over to a table where a gym bag lay open, its contents half spilled across the surface - a stethoscope, a white case marked ‘first aid,’ a large bottle of hand sanitizer, a few masks, and a few other small-to-medium-sized instruments. He dropped the blood pressure monitor on top of a box of gloves and started shoving his tools back into the gym bag.
“So?” a woman’s voice said from just behind me. I slowly looked back and saw Erin leaning against the wall, biting on a black-painted nail as she eyed the doctor with her dark brown eyes.
“So?” The Einstein lookalike repeated, still packing his equipment. “So, young lady, it looks like your man here will make a full recovery in a few weeks. Nothing’s broken. He has several contusions on his fibula and tibia, as well as his ribs.” He stopped packing to look at the pair of us. “That’s doctor speak for ‘your shins and ribs are bruised.’” Despite sounding like our presence annoyed him, something in his eyes gave me the impression that it was at least partly an act.
He turned, got in my face, and flashed a small pen light in my eyes, watching them closely as he continued, “He has a concussion. In fact, that’s the worst of it. I wanted you awake so I could check your responsiveness.”
“That’s what was in the needle?” Erin asked.
“Yes. Just something to wake him up. It should wear off in about thirty minutes to an hour. He should be fine to sleep after that. In fact, I’d recommend it.” Seeming satisfied with my pupil activity, he turned off the penlight and pocketed it.
“Besides that, you have a couple of loose teeth and lots of bruising. That should go away in a few days. All-in-all, I’d say you got off pretty lucky, considering what they told me you went through.”
“Lucky,” I said and tried to sit up. “You’re not the first to tell me that.”
Erin immediately laid a hand on my chest. “Hey. Just stay lying down. I’ll get whatever you need.”
“I’d listen to the young lady, Mr. Upton,” the doctor said as he zipped the gym bag closed. “Women. They’re usually right.” He wagged his eyebrows at me. Erin looked over at him, then back at me with a self-satisfied smirk. I rolled my eyes and laid back down; the last thing I needed was Erin with more self-confidence than she already had.
“My whole body was screaming earlier,” I said. “Why does it feel like a dull roar now?”
“That would be the painkillers I gave you, son. Something new, fresh off the FDA’s radar. Costs a small fortune, but I’m told you’re good for it.”
“Oh,” I said, unsure how I felt about being given drugs that were still hot off the presses of government regulation. “Well, they work.”
“I’ll let the attorney general know,” he said, standing next to me with gym bag in hand. “Don’t be a fool though, boy. You may not be able to feel it, but you can still damage yourself pretty badly if you’re not careful. So don’t try doing handstands or anything. One more thing. Your cholesterol is a tad high. It’s not much, but I’d recommend getting a jump on that.”
“Thanks, uh…”
“Doctor Samuels,” he said. “Now, there’s a young lady in similar condition to you that I need to look at, and then someone with a bullet in her shoulder. I’ve done all I can. The rest is up to God and time.”
He exited the bedroom without waiting for a goodbye.
“What time is it?” I asked Erin.
“Nearly four.”
“In the morning?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, sitting on the bed next to me.
I looked around at the walls and furniture. “We’re on the plane?”
She nodded. “We took off as soon as you arrived.” Her face grew grim. “Boss, you and Natashya…”
“Is it as bad as it feels?”
“Probably worse since you’re drugged up.” She looked around the room and muttered, “If only I had a mirror.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, placing a hand on one of hers.
She looked down at it and bit her lip. Then she looked up at me, and I could have sworn her eyes looked a little brighter than usual.
“Hey,” I said. “We made it out.”
She nodded. “I know. It was just really scary. You were missing for three days.”
“Does anyone know what happened or why?”
“No,” Erin said, brushing her dainty fingers through my hair. “We must have shown up 10 minutes after the police did. I don’t know how Chloe did it, but she and Jon managed to get into the crime scene. Ashlee, Shea, and I were going insane the whole time. About thirty minutes later, they came back with John. The other John is in the hospital.” I started to say something, but Erin beat me to it, “He’ll recover and should be back in New York in a few more days. It’s being handled.”
“Ray,” I said; the image of his lifeless body dropping in front of me was something I’ll never forget.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve already called Mack and gave him the news. The body’s back in New York, and we’re working with him to arrange the funeral. We’re paying for it… I thought you would want that.”
“Yeah. I would,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “They were going to adopt.”
She was quiet for a long moment, then said, “I didn’t know that.”
“I offered to help.”
“That was very kind of you.”
I didn’t say anything. He died because of me. I didn’t feel like I deserved the praise.
Erin continued when I didn’t respond, “Anyway, Chloe told us you and Natashya were missing. She had John take us home. When I asked her what she was going to do, she just said ‘my job’ and then left. We didn’t see her for two days.”
“I called Helen and filled her in. She called me back an hour later and said that someone had broken the story about the shooting since there were so many high-profile people up there. I didn’t have much to do, so I handled the locals on this end. Apparently, someone who works for a local paper got wind that you were there. Something about a picture of you with an influencer?”
“Fuck,” I said. “Charity.” Another one who’d been killed because of me. Someone must have gotten it off her phone and realized who I was.
“That’s the one,” Erin said. “I bought the phone from her sister. She was the one who had it. The reporter wasn’t in the mood to shut his mouth, so we bought the paper and buried the story.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“We knew you wouldn’t have wanted word to get back to anyone on the board before your meeting,” Erin said.
“Yeah,” I said. “You did amazing. It’s just… I keep forgetting how much ‘fuck you’ money I have, sometimes.”
“You’re not kidding,” Erin replied. “I think there’s more of it than when we first met.”
We grew quiet, listening to the faint hum of the plane engines as we soared through the air, half of us beaten, shot, or both. I thought about Charity and Ray… the dead men at the warehouse… the two unnamed people who had escaped, The woman with the glasses who had tried to seduce me like she was making a business transaction, and the mystery man who had it out for my blood. Who the hell were they?
After about five minutes of pondering, I noticed Erin had started lightly stroking my arm. Her fingernails grazed over my skin and sent chills down my arm, shoulder, and half my chest; goose flesh erupted along it. I sighed.
“I need to sleep,” I said. “I’m tired. I can feel it but can’t seem to shut off my brain.”
“The doctor did say it’d be about an hour before whatever he gave you wore off,” Erin pointed out.
“Damn,” I said. I was so weary; I could feel it deep in my soul.
Erin’s fingers trailed down my arm, slid over my fingers, and down to my thigh. I looked down at her, and she met my eyes with her own; I knew that look anywhere, and usually, I’d have been an enthusiastic participant, but after everything…
“I don’t know that I can right now,” I said, giving her a sad smile.
“It’s okay, Marcus,” Erin said, returning my smile with one of her own. There wasn’t a trace of the playful mischief normally present. All I could detect was sweet concern. “Just lay there and let me take care of you.”
I nodded and closed my eyes. Shutting off one of my senses allowed me to concentrate on the feel of Erin’s light, delicate fingers as they drifted over my chest - a stark contrast to the beatings I’d suffered through the past three days. Erin’s floral scent was a relief after being subject to the musty, dank smells of an empty warehouse, stagnant water, putrid coffee, and nicotine-infested breath.
“I got to know Emily a little better over the last few days,” Erin murmured, her quiet, husky voice a pleasant sensation to the angry questions thrown at me. “She opened up a little about Daniel and LA.”
Were I not so relaxed, I would have opened my eyes and sat up, doctor’s orders or not. The fact that Emily had talked about those things with anyone, let alone a near stranger, spoke volumes about what my sister thought of my assistant. Instead, I willed myself to lay there and absorb Erin’s affection.
“She told me how good you’d been to her after she got back,” Erin continued, her voice low and soothing. “You never asked anything from her. You never pressed her on what happened.”
I sensed a shift in her weight as her slight body leaned into mine, and I felt the soft, feather touch of her lips on mine. “You’re a really good man, Marcus Upton.”
And then she kissed me. It wasn’t the hungry kiss of Erin, the insatiable, aggressively bisexual nymphomaniac who normally devoured me with the heat of Haphestus’s roaring furnace. No, this was soft, sensual, and full of caring and longing… much like the kisses she’d given me that night we’d made love on my bed for the first time, only more. I extended my tongue, brushed the tip across those soft, dark lips, and tasted her.
The taste… so different from the putrid water, filthy rags, and blood that had filled my mouth the past few days. She tasted like mint and… home - she was becoming a woman I was wholly familiar with - just as comfortable and warm as she was enticing and exciting.
I breathed into the kiss as it deepened and enjoyed the sensation of her warm tongue meeting mine, sliding across it as they danced to a slow, deliberate rhythm. Her fingertips drifted lower, slipping over the elastic waistband of my underwear and continuing over my fabric-covered cock. Despite everything I’d been through and my guilt at the deaths laid at my feet, I felt it swell under her touch and in response to her love. The only attention it had seen in days was from the woman with the glasses, and she never finished me off. After weeks of a regular diet of sex, my libido had become used to a certain standard of living.
We continued kissing like that for several more minutes. It never became heated like our usual makeout sessions... just a slow, sweet exchange between two souls who simply needed to be touched. Even Erin’s grinding against my dick was a series of gentle caresses.
When our mouths finally separated, I slowly opened my eyes to see her looking down at me with an expression that almost made me cry; it was so beautiful. I felt a tear slip out the corner of my eye, and Erin dipped her head to kiss it away.
“I knew you would be a good boss,” she whispered. “That day, I could tell. I didn’t expect you to be such a good man.”
“Erin,” I said, “I’m not-”
She gave me another soft kiss on the lips to shut me up and then rained gentle kisses all over my face. “You’re not perfect, Marcus, but you’re a good man, and I’m so lucky that I found you that day.” She kissed down my bruised face, and I could feel her soft lips more than usual, each caress leaving a near-burning sensation that lingered as she continued blazing a little trail across my mottled skin.
“I was scared, but not just that I’d lose all of this. I like you, Marcus. I really like you, and I like working for you, and I was scared that I lost you. Not just as a boss, but as a friend.” She gave my dick a little squeeze through my underwear and gave me a slight grin, the old Erin shining through like rays of sun through a cloudy day. “Maybe as a little more than a friend.”
Hardly wanting to put up a fight when I was enjoying what she was doing so much, I closed my eyes and sighed. I concentrated on the feel of her warm lips as she trailed down my chest and the sensation of the cool air surrounding my cock as I felt her fingers hook the elastic band of my underwear and pull it down, exposing me. She kissed down my abdomen, around my belly button, and then her mouth was on my dick; two warm, moist pillows delivered little kisses up and down my shaft. They were followed by the flat of her tongue as she dragged it up one side of my member and back down. I’d always enjoyed watching Erin work, but experiencing her oral ministrations without seeing what she was doing was a new and exciting experience.
I let out an involuntary gasp as I felt her engulf my entire cock, feeling her lips seal around its girth as she took two-thirds in her mouth at one time. By now, I was fully hard, proving that I was a liar and that despite the horror of the past three days, I definitely could participate in Erin’s games.
As she slid her lips up and down my shaft, my hips tried to leave the table as I wanted more of my cock in her mouth. I felt a pang shoot up the left side of my back and winced as I was reminded that despite the medication the doctor gave me, I had suffered a lot in the past few days, and I needed rest.
Erin must have noticed because I felt her hand press against my chest, a non-verbal reminder that I should just lay back and let her do everything. I obliged and enjoyed the next few minutes of my assistant’s mouth around my dick. With every plunge on my member, she got another fraction of its length inside her, and I felt the head of my cock hit the back of her throat before too long.
That didn’t stop her, though. Without breaking pace, she continued plunging down on my cock, and I felt the mushroom head continually squeeze a little more into her throat. She let out a little gagging sound with every thrust as her fingers found my testes and massaged them. I could feel her drool slipping down my shaft, collecting along the root as she continued to assault her own throat with my cock. In no time, I felt her small, elfin nose brush against my abdomen as she managed to get my entire member inside her. She had shown me such tenderness and kindness while giving herself entirely to me. Erin had done more for me than almost anyone… constantly giving her time and loyalty. She’d shown me gentle affection when I needed it, fucked with wild abandon, and had even submitted to women like Helen and Natashya for my sake. Erin was one of the best things that had ever happened to me.
All the women in my life so far had been forces of nature that had improved my life in a myriad of ways, and I nearly lost one of them last night. Technically, I nearly lost them all, had the man who disappeared gotten his wish and finished me off. I needed to do better. I needed to be better. This entire time- fuck!
Erin had just done something with her tongue on the underside of my cock that made me shiver, and I felt the rising tide of my orgasm jump up several points. I opened my eyes and looked down at her, wondering what she’d done. With that mischievous smile in her dark eyes, she squeezed my cock back down her throat and then began gagging on it, her throat constricting as it massaged my shaft.
“Jesus, Erin,” I whispered, and she dislodged my cock from her throat and sat up. A trail of saliva connected her lips to my member for several moments until she moved back up my body, moving one slender leg over my hips to straddle me. She was wearing a skirt, and as she settled her crotch on my naked cock, I felt the warm, moist lips of her pussy settle around it, and she began to slide her cunt up and down my length as she looked down at me, gracing me with another sweet smile. With her silver hair spilling over one shoulder and stunning good looks, she looked like a bronze angel rocking back and forth on me.
I made a vow to myself to do better - to be the kind of man who could not only afford women like Erin in my life but also deserved them. I would be less naive. I would plan my moves more carefully. I would take better care of myself and those closest to me. I was done letting things happen to me. It was time I started making things happen.
The head of my cock caught on the opening of my assistant’s pussy, and she paused. We stared at each other in complete silence and feeling impatient, I rolled my hips up, feeling the mushroom head slip a fraction deeper inside her. We both hissed at the same time, me in pain as a dull, throbbing sensation rolled through my back; Erin in pleasure as she felt my steel-hard member slowly invading her pussy.
She smiled at me appreciatively, biting her lip as she shook her head. “No, Marcus,” she whispered. “Let me.” Then she peeled her shirt off her torso and over her chest. I stared in total lust and appreciation at her petite frame, enjoying the slight curve of an impossibly tiny waist that I could almost wrap my hands all the way around. My libido screamed in desire as I took in her light-bronzed skin and gravity-defying breasts that seemed to fit her frame perfectly. I lusted after this woman just as much right now as I had the first time she’d bared herself to me. In this life-affirming moment, just after coming as close to death as I’d ever been, I desired her even more.
She leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of me to keep her body weight from causing me any extra pain. I felt her perky breasts brush my chest as she brought her nose to mine and brushed it affectionately. She rolled her hips, and I felt the head of my cock pierce her tight slit, squeezing into her despite how wet she was. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as Erin sank onto me and felt her lips graze mine again. She began to work herself up and down my shaft, her tiny body lightly brushing mine as the walls of her pussy milked my dick.
She delivered several warm kisses to my sore face and said, “Don't worry, Marcus. Just let me take care of you.”
My head rolled back, and I relaxed under the tiny form of Erin. My Erin. Miles above the Earth, surrounded by my bodyguards and in the tender care of my assistant. I was safe. The consequences of what I’d just gone through didn’t matter. The dead bodies, the police, Cartwright, and the VistaVision board… none of it meant anything. Not right now.
Erin was the only thing that mattered. I’d worry about the rest later.
Thanks again for reading another installment of the story. If you have any feedback, please feel free to email me. Or if you’re interested in reading any further installments, check out my Patreon at patreon.com/mindsketch. Chapters up to 39 are posted there already, and a LOT of extra dirty bonus chapters. Thanks for your time and cheers!