Jon's Crazy Head-Boppin' Mystery

by A J Sherwood

  It was too much. Before, I had to force myself to stay calm and steady until I could get somewhere safe, somewhere I could collapse. Now, I had a Donovan, and I wasn’t afraid to use him. I closed my eyes to slits, turning on the stool, trusting him to get me out of here safely.

  “Donovan.”

  10

  I could see the cost of what he’d done. Jon’s entire body screamed pain to me, his normally pale skin almost grey, eyes shuttered to mere slits, a fine tremor in every muscle. Dammit, this was exactly why I hadn’t wanted him to go level three on anyone. Just the description of this had horrified me. Seeing it in real life was infinitely worse.

  “Donovan,” he called to me hoarsely.

  Easing up near him, I whispered, “Can I touch you, babe?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered back, already turning to me, eyes slipping fully shut. The trust in that gesture tore at my heart strings.

  “I’ve got an eye mask on me; will that help until I can get you out of here?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed again, voice raw.

  “The hell?” Hall demanded, voice rising into the realms of shrieking cats. “You’re not fucking done here, either one of you. Go again. You can’t just scan her head for a minute and say there’s nothing there.”

  “I fucking can when there’s nothing there,” Jon rasped, voice shaking but firm on this point. “She didn’t see anything before she blacked out. She was walking to her car and then bam. Lights out. There’s nothing helpful for us in her head, alright?”

  “You scan her again,” Hall snarled, stalking toward us.

  What the hell did this idiot think he was doing?! I planted myself in his path, careful to not touch him—for now—as I didn’t want to be clapped up because I’d assaulted a police officer. Although if he came a foot closer, I’d be well within my rights to put a boot up his ass. “Hall. You stand down, and I mean now. You’re treading on dangerous territory. When a psychic says he’s done, he’s done. When he’s down like this, you don’t fucking approach him. This is Basics 101.”

  He glared at me, brown eyes going black with his anger. “You move, or I slap handcuffs on you.”

  “You try, and you’re going to end up with them lodged in your ass,” I informed him, impatience and anger rising. “You don’t give him grief. Back off. Now.”

  “Or what?” Hall sneered, trying to dodge around me.

  This fucking douchebag. Seriously, was he dropped on his head as a child? I wanted to just pound him, but doing that would mean Jon sitting there even longer and suffering for it, and he was my priority.

  Jim swung around and grabbed Hall by the upper arm, forcibly moving him toward the doorway—or trying to. Hall instinctively fought him on it, ripping free. “Detective Hall, you are out of line. You need to leave, now, and I will be reporting this to your captain.”

  “You don’t get to touch me or tell me what I can do with the psychics on this case,” Hall argued, belligerent.

  I caught Garrett’s eye as he automatically moved to put himself in between us and the arguing detective. With that barrier in place—I pitied the fool who crossed my friend—I knelt and put the eye mask on Jon. He gave a soft whimper of relief at having that shield in place, but he kept wincing too, as if something sharp kept poking against sensitive skin. It took me a moment to realize that the emotions of the people in the room were still open to him, still pressing against him. Shit.

  “Garrett, on my six,” I requested grimly.

  “Roger that.”

  I could tell Jon was done in. With the eye mask on, he wasn’t going to be walking easily anywhere, and I wanted him out of here pronto. That only left one option to my mind. Gently, I scooped Jon into my arms, his arms around my neck, cradling him against my chest. He went without a single protest, sighing as he settled, burrowing his head against the crook of my neck.

  “I will get a court-ordered demand for witness to testify if I need to!” Hall was in full voice now. “I have no patience with your psychic playing drama queen and wilting like a damn damsel in distress.”

  “Sir,” Garrett said cheerfully, in a tone that meant mayhem was imminent, “Request permission to punch the asshole in the mouth.”

  “Permission denied,” Jim said, although his mouth twitched up in a brief grin. He gave a significant tap to the camera still in his hand. “For now. Hall, you are on very dangerous ground right now. Remember that all of this is being recorded. I can and will use this to prove you attempted to abuse your authority by forcing a psychic past the limits of cooperation, not to mention physically abuse him. I’ve got you solidly on two accounts. If you bar us any further than that, I’ll have you on three. You really want to go there?”

  Hall, perhaps belatedly, realized his strategical error, his eyes flicking to the camera. He didn’t like it—he looked ready to murder us all with his bare hands—but he stepped back and out of the way so I could at least get through the doorway. I did so promptly, heading for the parking lot with all due speed.

  I could still hear Jim and Hall arguing the point, and I put some pep in my step to make sure we were well and clear of that argument.

  Jon lifted his head a bare inch off my shoulder. “Garrett? Can you drive us back to my place? I need Donovan with me.”

  “Sure, man.” Garrett stayed thankfully behind me, using me as a shield between him and Jon. “What else you need me to do?”

  “Call Alani? She’ll want to bring food over tonight, but she’ll need to get in and out in the next hour. I can’t have anyone else in the house with me for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Garrett dodged around us, halting a few people in their tracks before they could crowd the hallway near the stairs. “Sorry folks, we have a semi-emergency here. Can you step aside for a second? Thanks.”

  I stepped past them and into the stairwell, thankful no one else was in there with us, careful as I descended down the concrete stairs. “You can stop thinking now, babe. I know your head is splitting.”

  Jon pressed in closer, taking in a large breath and letting it out again slowly. “It’s not as bad as usual.”

  It tore at me that even in this state, he was trying to reassure me. “Doesn’t mean it’s good, sweetheart. Garrett, keys to the car are in my right pocket. Can you open up the back?”

  Garrett pressed in close and I felt his hand slip inside my pocket, searching for the keys. “Jon, I promise I’m not feeling him up, okay?”

  Jon actually snickered, although it was fainter than his usual. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “He is fine, I grant you. But I’m afraid of what you’d do to me later. Ah, found them.” With a pat on my shoulder, he bounced past, taking the stairs much faster than I could with my precious burden.

  It took a small eternity to get out of the hospital, but by the time I hit the outside metal door, the back of Jon’s HMMWV was wide open and ready for us. With a slight grunt, I climbed inside, settling Jon down first before I tried to position myself on the flat benches. Garrett closed the doors behind us with a whump, and I heard him jog around the side and get into the driver’s seat. Digging around, I found the water bottle, magnesium, and Advil and popped the tops off, handing all the pills over to Jon, who took them with a murmured thanks.

  The vehicle rumbled to life as the engine started, and I braced myself as it moved, keeping myself upright before I found a comfortable angle on the flat bench. Jon squirreled himself against me, cuddling in, the eye mask still firmly in place despite the blackout conditions of the makeshift tent. And that pretty much told me all I needed to know.

  His hand came up to the nape of my neck, stroking the skin reassuringly. “Stop worrying. I’m really better than usual.”

  “Shit, babe, but if you could see yourself, you’d know how terrifying that is. And how do you know I’m worrying? Are you still open?”

  “No, I’m no longer at a three. The drug’s mostly worn off,” he answered, and it felt like he smiled
against my skin. “You’re just predictable.”

  “Yeah, okay, I have no argument on that.” He was trying to put a good face on it, but he still winced a little at random, and that told me he was far more sensitive to the energies of the world than he should be. ‘Mostly worn off’ was it? I didn’t buy it. Damn that cop. I hoped Jim roasted him. I couldn’t focus on that, though. With me as the anchor, I had to be calm in this instance, give Jon something good to focus on. He needed that more than anything. Using some of my techniques, I tried to chill out.

  Jon settled in gradually into my arms, his breath evening out, and in minutes he was fast asleep. I relaxed; sleep would do him a world of good, and if he could do that right now, then all the better.

  The ride stayed quiet. I might have dozed, myself, as it was warm and comfortable back here. Frankly, I always rested better with Jon next to me, so even with him down like this, I was more comfortable than if I’d been alone in my own bed.

  “Getting off the freeway,” Garrett called back as a warning.

  “Roger that.” An hour had passed already? It felt like fifteen minutes. I nudged Jon gently. “Babe. You need to wake up, just for a few minutes. Let me get you into the house, okay?”

  He barely even stirred.

  “Jon, wake up. Please?”

  “I did that this morning,” he grouched, attempting to burrow further into my arms.

  Why was he so adorable like this?

  Amused, Garrett asked, “Is he normally that hard to wake up?”

  “Not normally, he’s usually—” I hissed in a breath as Jon’s mouth latched onto my Adam’s apple and sucked on it. Sparks of pleasure bounced through me. That was one of my sensitive spots, which he damn well knew. My protest sounded strangled, even to my own ears. “Babe, not the right time.”

  Jon released me just enough to chuckle, that throaty sound of pleasure he only used in bed. He pushed the eye mask up and off, abandoning it somewhere on the far end of the bench. “It’s fun to tease you. I can light you up like a Christmas tree.”

  I craned my head back to look at him properly. With the blackout curtains, I couldn’t see much—there was barely any light back here—but I could see enough. His eyes were huge and dilated, but unfocused, an unnatural flush on his cheeks. And I could feel him steadily hardening against my thigh. Shiiiit.

  Sounding exactly like a maidenly aunt, Garrett demanded, “Just what is going on back there?”

  “You know the Psy-Aid makes him a little spa—shit—spacey.” And how the hell did he manage to get a hand down my pants without undoing the belt? I managed to get that hand free, only he somehow squirreled the other one in a second later. “Also apparently horny. Although he didn’t warn me about that part.”

  Garrett snickered. “And how hard are you trying to stop him?”

  “He’ll be mortified by this later, so I actually am, but for some reason he’s got more hands than an octopus and dammit, Jon, stop. Stop right now.” I was about to lose my sanity. Jon was irresistible on most days, but when he turned aggressive like this, it hit every switch in me. I shook with restraint, because that was not at all what my body wanted—it wanted to continue. Dammit, okay, no. This was not a good idea. I caught both of his wrists, my hands manacles around his, although I was careful to not use full strength on him. I didn’t want to bruise his fair skin.

  My boyfriend stopped, his hand still in my pants, expression crashing into a crestfallen pout. “You don’t want me?”

  Oh, God. I had to close my eyes before I got sucked into that pout and just did whatever the hell he wanted.

  Garrett snickered again. “He’s giving you puppy eyes, isn’t he?”

  “That description does not do him justice. Jon, honey, I love you more than anything, and I will be a-okay with whatever you have in mind, but there’s no condoms or lube back here, yeah? We need those.” He did remember we needed those, right? We’d decided a month ago we wanted to drop the condoms and had gotten tested just for my peace of mind, but we didn’t have the results back in yet.

  He frowned at me, and for a minute I didn’t think he would be able to grasp the logic, then his chin dipped in a serious nod. “Okay.”

  I relaxed and smiled at him. “Good, okay. So let’s get back home first, yeah?”

  Very seriously, he tangled his fingers behind my neck and whispered loudly against my mouth, “When we get home, I want you to fuck me against the wall, okay?”

  I swallowed hard around a dry mouth. Garrett hooted with laughter in the front seat. “Woooow. He’s not shy about asking what he wants.”

  Never had been, although this one was new. “Garrett, can it.”

  “I’m honestly surprised, though,” Garrett said, mischief bleeding through every word, “because from the descriptions you guys gave me, I thought he would crash and be out like a light for a few days.”

  “He’s still riding the high of the meds,” I explained, tilting my head to allow Jon to snuggle in again. As long as he wasn’t trying to stir me up any further, this was fine. “He will crash at some point.”

  “Gotcha. And in the meantime, fuck like bunnies?”

  “You know, there is such a thing as karma, Garrett. And I can make sure it will bite you in the ass.”

  He just laughed, not at all worried. “Okay, we’re here.”

  “Thank fucking Christ.” I needed to make this exit speedy. “There’s a spare key inside the grey electric box next to the door. Get the door open for us? And leave the car keys in the basket inside.”

  “Sure. Then I’ll scoot, promise.” Garrett clambered nimbly out, the door shutting firmly behind him.

  “Jon?” I nudged him gently. “Time to move.”

  “Ngggh,” he protested, barely shifting.

  Trying to motivate him—I didn’t really have the right leverage to bodily lift him out of here—I tried, “There’s walls inside.”

  He went taut, wheels spinning, then cackled. Looney Toon kind of cackle. “Walls. Yes, let’s go where there’s walls.”

  “When you’re properly yourself again, we’re going to talk about why you’re like this,” I muttered the promise to myself. Seeing my normally very controlled boyfriend cackling like a sex fiend was throwing me for a mental loop.

  Jon popped the back door open then flinched, hands coming over his eyes. “The liiiiight, it buuuurns.”

  “Is that a Gollum quote? Seriously, we’re doing LOTR right now?” Shaking my head, I grabbed the eye mask and put it back on him, crawling around him to get my feet on the pavement. It was a bit of a wrestling match to get Jon out of the vehicle, into the house, and all the doors locked behind us, but I managed it. Garrett waved a cheerful goodbye as he left.

  Once he was inside, Jon lost the mask again, dropping it carelessly on the side table, then beamed at me. “We’re inside. You’re very clever.”

  I looked down at that innocent, upturned face with his ingenious blue eyes and couldn’t help but smile back at him. “You’re so fucking adorable like this.”

  “Fucking! Yes, let’s do that.” Jon grabbed my hand and towed me toward the stairs, a skip in his step like he was off to some Sunday picnic. “I love making love to you. Hey, that rhymed.”

  “No, babe, it really didn’t.”

  “Beat poetry; work with me, here,” he tossed over his shoulder, still skipping. He paused halfway up the stairs and turned to look down at me, expression suspicious. “Am I drugged?”

  “Yeah, you took the Psy-Aid about three hours ago, remember?” I waited to see what he did with this information. I was still stirred up from what he’d done in the car, but if it looked like he was too spaced out to even know what he was doing, I’d put him to bed and just deal. I was half-tempted to do it regardless.

  His suspicious expression didn’t ease. “I remember that. But I’m really horny right now, and I’ve never been horny before.”

  “So this is a new symptom?” I felt a little better hearing that. So it wasn’t he hadn’t m
entioned it to me on purpose, it was just a new thing.

  Lips pursed, he scanned me intently from head to toe and back again. “It’s you.”

  Blinking, I pointed to myself. “Me?”

  “Yeah. My anchor’s emotions are what I focused on ’cause everything else is too much. Too much, too much, y’know? But you’re safe to focus on.” He put us on eye-level, with him only one step above me. Licking his lips, Jon slowly trailed a hand down my chest, looking at me as if mesmerized. “And you want me. You always want me. It makes me giddy, you know? The way you look at me.”

  If this was what he was like drunk, I could definitely get on board. “I want you because I love you.”

  “I know,” he responded, infinitely satisfied, like a gourmand who had been handed the most fulfilling banquet. “I love you, too.”

  My breath caught in my throat, and it felt like my heart stopped for a second. As much as I’d known, it was the first time he’d ever said it.

  “I’m a little scared by how much I love you.” Both of his arms went around my neck as he leaned in, whispering above my mouth, “You have to keep saying ‘I love you.’ It gives me courage.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, the word forced past a constricted throat. He’d never said that to me before, either, that the intensity of his emotions scared him. Or did he feel he might lose me, and that was why loving me scared him so much? Something else I needed to talk to him about when he became clear-headed again. For now, I assured him, “I can do that.”

  Nestling his head against my shoulder, he snuggled in, trusting his full weight to me. “Donovan, I think I’m tired.”

  Already crashing, eh? I should have figured. It was strange he’d gotten that second wind, brief as it was. I wrapped both arms around him, keeping him steady. “Then let’s go up and snuggle in bed.”

  “You promise to nail me to the wall later?”

  “Absolutely promise.”

  With a happy sigh, he agreed, “Then let’s go to bed.”