by Emma Vikes
All I could do was nod my head, my mind swirling with this new information they gave me. They considered Wes dangerous. My sweet, amnesiac Wes was considered dangerous by the CIA. He was a suspect for murder. All I could think about was the hands that gripped my waist every night, the same hands that may have killed someone.
But he couldn’t have.
Things just seemed to be getting worse. But I didn’t have much choice but to go back to work. For the rest of my shift, my mind kept going back to the two men who were looking for Wes. I wasn’t even sure if they really who were officials. Maybe they were the same people who wanted to kill Wes in the hospital. Maybe they switched tactics and thought that being in broad daylight undisguised would lead them to him so they could finish the deal. Or maybe they were pretending to be cops.
Or maybe they were cops. If they were, it meant that Wes wasn’t a good guy. It meant that I was hiding a criminal in my house. The thought made my heart sink because I couldn’t imagine Wes being a part of the bad guys. For someone as charming and sweet as he was, he couldn’t possibly be a wanted criminal.
But then again: Ted Bundy. Fuck, maybe I had been watching too much Netflix. God, I was so disoriented at that moment, I couldn’t even collect my thoughts.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I almost jumped out of my skin. Ben stood there and looked at me, incredibly amused.
“Sorry. I’ve been having too many late nights recently.”
He eyed something on my neck and I suddenly remembered how Wes had given me a hickey earlier. Ben said, “So, what should I do to pry the name out of you? I’ve been dying to ask you since I noticed your hickey this morning. But I wanted you to bring it up because I didn’t want to be rude.”
Yeah, right. As if he always remembered how to not be rude. Lengthening the endorsements just so he could talk to me was extremely rude. I had work to get on with and he wasn’t being respectful of my time.
Ben waited for my reply, looking at me expectantly as if he deserved to know what was going on with my life, or more specifically, my love life.
“And that’s none of your business,” I replied, flashing him a sarcastic smile before grabbing my chart and making my rounds even if I didn’t need to start for another five minutes.
I could handle talking to Ben when I was in a good mood but right now, I was far from it. All I could think about was Wes’ picture on that paper. The familiar sight of the man who I’d been screwing for the past few days, the patient I had helped to escape.
For the next few hours, I kept checking the time, willing it to move faster. When it finally hit home time, I made sure I kept my endorsement short and rushed to get out of there. I ignored Ben who was calling out my name and asking me to have dinner. Shit, dinner. I wouldn’t have time or energy to prepare anything for our dinner so I bought take-out from the diner again, hoping that Wes wouldn’t mind burgers for dinner.
When I finally got home, the house was dark. The fact that it was made my heart race in fear and had me on high alert. Fishing the keys from my bag, I unlocked the door and turned on the lights inside, noting how nothing seemed out of place. It looked exactly as how I’d left it this morning.
Except for Wes sitting on the couch with his head bowed down.
My heart sank, knowing how much going to New Greenwich meant to him. I remembered the huge grateful smile he had given me earlier when I said he could go, only for me to take it back at the very last minute. “Wes?”
He looked up at me, his blue-green eyes were still dark. “You’re finally home.”
“We can still go to New Greenwich right now if you’d like,” I offered, setting the takeout bag I was holding onto the coffee table and sitting on it so I could be in front of him. “I’m sorry for earlier, Wes.”
“What happened?” He sounded tired, like he had spent the past few hours wondering what he had done wrong for me to have changed my mind like that.
I opened my mouth to speak, ready to tell him everything that had transpired to lead me to that hasty decision of getting him home. But then I realized I couldn’t. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to him because there was a part of me that was suspicious. A part of me that was bothered by the fact that I had a stranger in my house.
God, rationality couldn’t have come sooner.
“Jasmine?”
I licked my lips and turned away. “I panicked.”
That wasn’t the answer that Wes was expecting and it was clear in the sudden shift in his posture. He visibly stiffened at my answer. “You panicked?”
“I’m sorry, Wes. I know it meant a lot to you. My offer still stands. We can head there now.”
He abruptly stood up and he towered over me. His blue-green eyes were blazing with concealed irritation. “And then what, Jasmine? What would we get if we went there because everything is closed there by now?!”
I stood up and faced him. “Well, I’m sorry that I just wanted to make sure you were safe!”
“What am I, a child?” he asked, the disbelief so clear in his tone. We stared at each other, fear and anger fueling us both. The picture they had of him continued to flash in my mind and I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him in that moment of what I saw and tell him what I thought, what was bugging me right now.
But then he kissed me.
He grabbed my face and kissed me harshly, switching our position so I fell down on the couch. His mouth was all over me, kissing me so hard that I was sure it would leave bruises. He ripped my clothes off and I found myself responding to him in the same heated and angered manner, tearing his button-down shirt which made the buttons pop everywhere, but I didn’t care.
Even with my harsh assumption, the desire to have him inside of me was animalistic and there wasn’t even any foreplay. Wes only unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his boxers, pulling away from my bottom scrubs – not in a gentle manner at all – and slammed himself inside of me so that I gasped loudly, relishing the pain and pleasure that flooded through me.
I clung to him as he pounded himself inside of me, our anger and irritation at the situation that we were in fueling our passion and desire for each other. My hands were in his hair, threading through the dark locks while his hands were all over my body, holding me so tight that his hands were probably leaving marks along my skin.
He hauled me up and slammed me against the wall, his thrusts deep and fast and hard. I was screaming in both pleasure and pain. Wes’ mouth was all over me, sucking and biting my skin, leaving his mark everywhere on my upper body as he pounded my lower part. I hissed when I felt his teeth graze my nipple, gently nibbling on the sensitive bud.
A shiver ran through me and I trembled as I climaxed, my eyes closed, the scream rippling out of me as I came. He came right after me, groaning his release and when he pulled out of me, we lay there in the middle of my living room, sweaty and tired, the anger and frustration gone.
Neither of us spoke as we remained seated on the couch, both of us gathering our thoughts. He was the one to break the silence first. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. When you allowed me at the diner earlier, the surge of hope that went through me was indescribable.”
I looked at him, feeling guilty. He deserved to know the truth. He deserved to know what I saw and what it could possibly mean. “No, I’m sorry, Wes. I should’ve told you the truth. I didn’t panic. When I went to pay at the counter, there were these two men talking to Owen.”
Wes shifted his position, looking at me as I ran my hands along my arms. “Then?”
I cleared my throat, looking at anything but him. “They were looking for someone. They had a picture.” I looked at Wes, at the now familiar blue-green eyes I’d been waking up next to. “They were looking for you.”
He nodded his head, suddenly looking somber. We remained quiet for a while as we processed our thoughts about the situation. I looked at Wes, wondering how someone like him could be a criminal, wondering why my thoughts would e
ven veer in that direction. He had been nothing but sweet and kind since he woke up from his coma. He hadn’t done anything wrong other than escape the hospital, which I forced him to do.
“Do you think…?”
Almost reflexively, I shook my head and placed my hand on his shoulder. “No. I don’t, Wes. They were probably the same guys in the hospital who wanted to kill you, pretending to be cops.”
I didn’t want to tell him what those men had told me. They could’ve been the bad people pretending to be the CIA. With technology nowadays, it was easily possible for criminals to pretend to be the good guys. I didn’t want to burden Wes with the knowledge that I had, with the possibility that he might’ve killed someone. I didn’t even have enough information about it other than that he was a suspect for the murder of an agent.
I needed to talk to Paul about everything.
“But if I was, Jasmine…”
My hand gently caressed his cheek as I moved closer to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. “It doesn’t matter. People can change.”
His mouth met mine and I moved to straddle him, feeling his hard erection against my stomach. He stood up, carrying me into my bedroom. The door swung open easily and Wes placed me on the bed, gently this time. He was slow and sensual and he was kissing me all over. There wasn’t any rush or anger this time, no torrid kisses, but rather, his actions were slow and measured as if he wanted to prove a point.
Wes was kissing me all over, from the insides of my thigh to up to my lips and he even left feather-light kisses on my forehead. When he lowered his face down to my pussy, I gasped when I felt his hot tongue inside of me. My hands reached for his hair, tugging at him and moaning beneath him. “Oh god, Wes, yes, please. Fuck. Yes!”
Then I switched our positions so he was beneath me. I climbed on top of him, straddling him. My hands caressed his body, feeling the hard planes of his abs. Oh dear god, he was amazing. His hard erection was all I could see and I began to position myself to suck him. I positioned myself differently, my face on his dick while he was on my pussy.
I could feel him shivering underneath me, his climax near. I gasped when I felt his hot tongue in my pussy but just as my eyes widened, a figure appeared in the doorway of my room and made me scream, my legs flailing and almost kicking Wes. Wes turned around and saw the guy, ducking just in time as he swung a gunned hand on him.
There was a gun sandwiched between my mattress and the bed. I desperately tried to reach for it, thanking the heavens because I got it easily. I reached for Wes and pulled him down and then, taking aim, I pulled the trigger. But the guy was fast to react.
Wes stood up, swinging his fists against the guy as I grabbed the nearest clothes I could, keeping the gun close to me. If I killed someone, it was going to be in self-defense.
Wes managed to tackle the gun from the guy and hit him with the edge of it, leaving him crumpled on the ground.
“Wes, come on!”
I could only hope that there weren’t any more men outside my house. I pulled on my clothes and holding hands, Wes and I rushed out of my room. I made a hasty grab for my car keys and the bag that I thankfully had left by the door. Adrenaline fueled us as we both ran and got into my truck. I turned it on, cutting out of the driveway just as the man that we left in the house made an appearance in my doorway, looking dazed, with blood oozing from his wound.
“Holy shit,” I cursed as the truck hit the road.
“Fucking hell! Who was that guy?!” Wes yelled, glancing back at my house. The hand that was holding the gun trembling.
I was breathing hard as I accelerated, ripping through the quiet night. Silence and tension surrounded us as I drove us away from Norwynne. It wasn’t until we reached the sign that said ‘Goodbye Norwynne’ that Wes spoke.
“Jasmine…do you think they were…”
I nodded grimly. When Wes knocked the guy unconscious, I got a better look at him. He was the same guy I had collided with in the hospital who came there disguised as one of the nurses with the intention to kill Wes.
We were in fucking trouble!
Chapter 10
Wes
It was almost pitch-black and I almost couldn’t see anything except for the small flickering candle in one cell. Like a moth drawn to the flame, I made my way to the cell I knew the prisoner was held. He held the candle with his hand, the wax melting on his hand. It must have stung but he showed no sign that he was in pain.
“She’s sick,” he whispered to me, his eyes focused on the cell next to him. He looked at me, the fire brightening his brown eyes and making his eyes look like they were burning. “She’s dying. She needs medical attention. What kind of sick, sick people are you to dangle an already dying girl in the pits of hell?”
His tone was accusatory and he moved the candle in front of my face, grabbing a hold of my shirt. The flame of the candle felt hot against my face. “If she dies, even if it’s because of cancer eating at her body, it’s still on you. Her blood is still on you. Remember that.”
The scene suddenly morphed into a different one. It wasn’t dark anymore but it was insanely cold, the kind of cold that leaves goosebumps on your skin and made you shiver. The type of cold that froze you within your heart and not because of chilly air. The place was damp and reeked of rotten flesh but it wasn’t the smell that bothered me. There were bodies everywhere.
And in the middle stood the same boy that talked to me in the cell, kneeling in front of a dead girl. He looked up at me, his eyes black and glassy, no longer burning because of the flame but because of cold rage. “You killed her.”
His voice echoed around the walls of the room, bouncing and rebounding, getting louder and louder each time. I backed away but tripped on something. He carried the girl in his arms, his eyes looked bloodshot and dead. “You promised you’d save us; that you would free us from this prison but look around you. This is what you’ve caused!”
I jumped when he knelt in front of me, the girl turning face up, looking at me with glassy, dead eyes. I was hyperventilating at the sight and then it was as if I was hallucinating. She moved her hand slowly, raising it to point at me. When she moved, so did the rest of the deads, slowly moving and repositioning themselves, standing up and pointing at me, looking at me with dead eyes as they moved towards me, backing me against the wall and closing me in.
I woke up screaming.
“Wes!” Jasmine shouted, startled at my sudden scream. I was tangled in the thin fleece blanket that we were wrapped around in, my hair sticking to my forehead, slick with sweat. “What’s wrong?”
I sat up and rubbed my palm against my forehead, groaning. “Bad dream.”
Jasmine shifted her position and then sat up, placing her hand on my thigh. “I’ve been trying to wake you but you were murmuring something in your sleep, desperate and begging, and it scared me.”
I didn’t think that I would have been talking in my sleep because I hadn’t been talking in the dream. I thought I was paralyzed with fear. “What was I saying?”
“You were saying that you didn’t know what the others were planning, that you did want to help them.” Even in the darkness of the motel room that Jasmine and I were in here in New Greenwich, her brown eyes were bright and fiery. “And you were saying that you didn’t kill them.”
My throat felt dry and scratchy as I thought back to my dream, at the boy who kept accusing me, whose anger was so palpable that I still felt it now. At the boy who looked eerily like the brother Jasmine had in the pictures back in her home.
I almost jumped out of the bed in alarm. Jasmine looked at me, sensing the sudden shift in my mood as I stared at her in disbelief. “What now, Wes?”
The sudden pain in my head, the spark of white memories flashing, suddenly crippled me on the bed. My hands flew to my head, gripping tightly, and I groaned in agony. Since we got into the motel last night, the headaches had been worsening. We’ve been here for a day and two nights. The headaches alarmed Jasmine but there wasn’t
anything she could do about it.
I was gripping the blanket so tight, my knuckles turned white. Jasmine had a comforting hand on my shoulder, trying her best to utter soothing words to me to make the headache go away. I couldn’t take anymore medication yet. I’d had a dose and it wasn’t yet time for another. All I could do was endure the pain until it subsided to a dull ringing in my head.
The image of the boy kept flashing in my mind, followed by the picture of Jasmine’s brother. By the time that the pain had dulled, I was out of breath and even more sweaty. I looked at Jasmine who stared at me with such worry. I took her hand and placed it slowly above my chest, where my heart was, and had her feel my erratic heartbeat.
“The dream left me paralyzed with fear but there was a sudden thought that crossed my mind and made me feel even worse.”
“What do you mean?” The concern was evident on her face and my heart thudded loudly in my chest. A part of me didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want to tell her because I was afraid that it would ruin everything we had, whatever it was that we had.
I swallowed and lowered her hand but still held onto it with mine. “There were pictures of another boy in your house that I found. At first, I found a photograph of a baby, a child named Wesley which told me that’s where you got the name for me.”
“Wesley died,” Jasmine murmured, looking straight at me with a sad smile on her face. “I never got the chance to watch him grow up.”
“But that’s not the case with Damien.”
At the mention of the name, Jasmine visibly tensed and she pulled her hand away from me. The shock was clear on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and the questions loud but unsaid. I cleared my throat. “I saw a picture of him in your room, one of you and Paul and Damien in the middle. You wrote your names at the back.”
Realization dawned on her, remembering the picture and probably why she wrote their names behind it in blue ink. Slowly, she nodded her head. “Damien came a year after Wesley died. After my parents died, it was just the two of us.”
