by Abby Blake
Bec’s cell phone rang, and she quickly left the table to snag the little vibrating machine before it buzzed itself onto the floor. She looked puzzled as she glanced at the caller ID, but she opened it and said hello in a casual voice.
Turning to Jason, she handed the phone over, taking her seat again. Jason noticed she at least tried not to listen in on the conversation, although she failed miserably, so she knew Dana had gone in to surgery again before Jason handed back the phone.
* * * *
Cody felt the lighthearted mood of the meal evaporate as it was replaced with Jason’s impotent anger. He pushed his plate away, mumbling an apology as he untangled his leg and crutches from the table and limped toward his bedroom.
Cody could feel Bec aching for the loss Jason felt. They knew every time Dana went in for surgery, her chances of recovering were lessened. Bec sat fighting tears, her normal tough demeanor stripped away by the raw emotion emanating from Jason. Cody pulled her onto his lap, holding her as she cried, whispering words of love and comfort. When she had cried herself out, she straightened in his lap and kissed him gently.
“Go,” Cody said to her, understanding her need to comfort the other man, happy he could help even in this little way.
Bec kissed him again and hurried to follow Jason.
* * * *
She found him sitting on the end of his bed, his head hung low, his shoulders heaving as he breathed deeply, trying to gain control of his emotions. Bec entered the room without a word, moved to stand in front of him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She felt him tremble as he pulled her into his embrace, his face resting against her belly as she held him tight.
She stood like that for several minutes, rocking slightly as she sensed his fight to control his emotions. He sucked in a deep breath as his hands slid under her shirt, pushing the material up over her shoulders, her unfettered breasts quickly claimed by his mouth. He pushed her pants and underwear down as he dragged her onto his lap, his hands seeking the swollen heat between her thighs. In just a few short moments he had her panting, straining against his solid grip, everything forgotten except the man in front of her. She gripped his jeans, forcing the buttons undone with trembling fingers, her hand sliding into his briefs to release his engorged cock. Mindless with need she pumped his flesh until he growled, pushed her hand away, pulled her down, and impaled her on his erection.
She held herself upright by her fingers on his shoulders as he gripped her hips and slammed her against him again and again and again. Her entire body shook with the orgasm that approached, threatening to blow her apart as he continued to pound into her quivering flesh. He growled again, grinding her pelvis against his hips as he exploded, his cum pulsing deep into her body.
She moaned as her orgasm hit her, waves of hot pleasure washing over her again and again. He held her close as her pussy clenched against his softening cock, her anus puckering as the muscles pulsed.
Completely spent, Bec fell forward into his arms, her sweaty body plastered against his chest, barely aware of the hands roaming over her as the man in her arms apologized over and over.
Suddenly registering his words, Bec tried to sit up, seeking his gaze, but he held her tight against him rocking slightly and still apologizing. She let him hold her for a minute longer before pushing out of his arms.
“Jason,” she said, standing in front of him, her hand reaching for his face, trying to get him to look at her. “Jason, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. In fact, I loved every moment.”
Incredulous eyes gazed at her as if he couldn’t quite believe what she said. He smoothed his hands over her hips and the reddened spots showing the evidence of his rough possession. She glanced at the marks, dismissing them with a shake of her head.
“I’m not breakable. You didn’t hurt me.” She smiled into his eyes when he looked at her again. He pulled her against him, lifting his face to kiss her tenderly. She angled him back onto the bed, then crawled over him to settle against the pillows. She patted the mattress, and Jason wriggled awkwardly out of his clothes then settled beside her, spooning her against him as he pulled her close.
She was almost asleep when she felt his body jerk as if remembering something important. She heard his groan just before he turned her in his arms, lifting her face to look into her eyes.
“Baby, I didn’t use a condom.” Thanks to her telepathy she could hear the small part of him wishing for her to fall pregnant with his child, but a much larger part mentally kicked his own ass for being so selfish.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, her hands running across the creases in his brow. “I have an IUD, so I won’t be falling pregnant anytime soon, and I haven’t slept with anyone besides you and Cody for more than two years. You?”
“I didn’t have sex with anyone while I was undercover,” he said, smiling.
“Good,” she said, sleepily rolling in his arms and snuggling back against him. “Conversation over.”
* * * *
Not content with just ringing the bell, their visitor hammered on the door as well. Cody sent his senses into the hallway, trying to determine who would be trying to belt his door down. He opened the door just as Rafe pulled his wife into his arms, laughing softly as she continued trying to reach the door.
“Relax,” he said, “Cody’s here now.”
Cody opened the door wide, an amused smile crossing his features as Alana pushed past him and stalked into the apartment. Realizing the room was empty, Alana turned to face him, raising her eyebrow as she asked “Where is he?”
“By ‘he,’ I assume you mean Jason,” Cody asked, a little annoyed at Alana’s cryptic attitude. “Stay here, and I’ll check if he’s awake.”
He could feel her agitation as he walked down the hallway. He stopped at Jason’s room, knocking softly as he opened the door.
Alana pushed past him again, apparently not noticing that both occupants of the bed were naked, and shoved her wrist into Jason’s line of vision.
“Look,” she demanded impatiently.
* * * *
Jason blinked several times trying to come awake after a too-short, unexpected, but much needed nap. He tried to focus his eyes, but all he could see was Alana’s wrist. Uncertain what she expected, Jason looked around her to see Cody standing at the door. Cody seemed as confused as Jason felt.
His annoyance getting the better of him, he pulled the sheet up to cover himself and Bec and then glared at Alana.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” he ground out through tightly clenched teeth.
“The scars,” she said, shaking her head.
“What scars?” he asked, still trying to come fully awake.
“The scars from the handcuff,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “The scars that tingled when you touched them and then healed completely.”
Shock coursed through Jason as he grabbed her hand, turning it back and forth, searching for the scars that he’d seen only a day ago. He grabbed her other hand, comparing the two, searching for differences and seeing none.
A quick gasp caught his attention as the woman beside him moved. Lifting her left hand, Bec held up the fingers that yesterday were mangled and damaged but were now completely free from injury. It looked as if she’d never been shot. She quickly moved the sheet, modesty apparently forgotten as she tried to see her scarred ankle. Carefully, Jason lifted her foot into his hands, running his fingers lightly over the puckered surgical scars.
Right there in front of all of them, the scars faded and almost disappeared. Bec flexed her foot, moving more freely than she’d been able to since being shot.
“How does it feel?” Cody asked, his voice tight with shock.
Bec flexed her foot again.
“Good, I think. A little residual pain, but nothing like the stiffness I’ve experienced day after day.” She lowered her foot to the floor, raising her eyes briefly to take in Cody’s taut stance. She stood, gently placing her weight on the injured leg, not
icing the lack of pain. “It’s not one hundred percent,” she said carefully, “but it’s a big improvement.”
Cody moved forward to slap a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
“I knew you’d come in handy,” he said, smiling, effectively breaking the tension in the room.
Alana gasped suddenly, glancing from Bec to Jason, perhaps finally noticing the state of undress of the couple on the bed. Looking uncomfortable, she started to seek an exit.
“Um, I’ll just...um, go...so you guys can, um...” She was out the door before she finished her sentence, and the three left behind exchanged happy smiles.
“Get dressed, you two,” Cody said, moving toward the door. “We leave in fifteen minutes.” At first, Jason didn’t understand where they were going, his brain still sleepy and now overloaded with questions, and then it hit him. Dana.
* * * *
They all rushed into the hospital, Cody and Bec hovering close to Jason as he moved faster than was probably safe on crutches. Theresa’s head snapped up at the commotion, annoyance briefly crossing her features until she saw Jason. Looking confused and curious, Theresa stood back as Jason handed his crutches to Bec and limped through the door to Dana’s room.
Inside the room, Pete sat in a chair beside Dana’s bed. He didn’t even lift his gaze, his entire body language that of a beaten man. Jason hesitated, not explaining why he was here, unwilling to add false hope to Pete’s already overloaded emotions. He limped to the other side of the bed, and grasped Dana’s pale hand in his own. He had no idea if this would work, and the doctor in him doubted that anything, even his freak skill of healing scars, would be enough to put back together Dana’s broken body.
Still holding her fingers in one hand, he stretched the other toward her face, rubbing his thumb over the bruising that still marred her beautiful features. He held his breath as he watched the yellow-green skin heal, and be replaced by a more healthy pallor. Too pale still, but an improvement nonetheless.
He moved his hand to her sternum, carefully touching the skin, visualizing in his mind the damage done by the bullets and trying to imagine the healing that would be required for Dana to be whole again. Slowly he worked his hands up her throat, carefully touching the scars on her neck where a bullet had severed her spinal cord.
Jason could feel Pete’s eyes on him but couldn’t look at the man, his fear of failing Dana threatening to overwhelm him. He concentrated on the scars on her neck, trying to visualize in his mind the nerves and blood vessels that ran through the spinal cord. He imagined them knitting back together, healing the damage as if she’d never been injured.
He sat back, still holding her hand, unsure if he’d been able to promote healing of any of her internal injuries. He stayed there, barely breathing, fighting the fear that welled inside him, holding himself together by sheer will.
A choking noise startled him, and he stood abruptly, his medical training quickly assessing the situation.
“Get the doctor,” he barked at her startled husband, sparing but a moment to make sure the other man pressed the emergency call button. Jason stood over Dana, her eyes open for the first time in ten days. “Relax, Dana, I’m going to turn off the respirator and remove the tube so you can breathe on your own.”
Her eyes held his gaze as she used her telepathy to give her own orders. He laughed out loud at her demand that he hurry his ass up and then quickly disconnected the machine.
“Stay still,” he told her in a stern voice. “I’m not sure exactly how much I’ve been able to heal, so no sudden movements, all right?”
She rolled her eyes but otherwise stayed still as he removed the tube from her throat and laid a hand on her chest as she took her first full and independent breath in ten days. He rubbed his hand over the puckered scar at her side, sensing a small amount of internal bleeding and healing it with his thoughts.
The door burst open, the doctor quickly taking in the scene, his irate voice cutting off in mid-sentence when he realized Dana was breathing on her own.
“I...I...don’t understand this,” he said as he grabbed up the chart, shaking his head in disbelief. “This just isn’t possible.” He moved over to the bed, checking Dana over, gasping when he noticed how the bruises had faded and how she was able to move her limbs.
Pete clapped a hand on the doctor’s shoulder as he smiled for the first time in what probably felt like forever.
“Doctor,” Jason said, gaining the man’s attention. “We need to run some more tests, check to see how much of the damage has been healed.”
“But not here,” Caleb said from the doorway. “Hey, Dana,” he said as he approached the bed, a huge grin on his face. He grasped her hand briefly as he turned his attention back to the doctor. “We need to transfer Mrs. Nash to another facility before we do any more tests. The last thing we need is the press getting a hold of this.”
The doctor shook his head, clearly agitated by this turn of events.
“We need to do more tests and figure out how she managed to heal the way she did. She’s a medical miracle, and we owe it to the next patient to find out what happened here.”
Caleb shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The people who tried to kill Mrs. Nash won’t hesitate to try again if they think she’ll survive,” he said, stretching the truth just a little. Her family knew it was unlikely the assassin would try again.
Jason glanced at Caleb as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. He’d healed someone who really should not have survived her injuries. This sort of miracle was bound to attract attention, and the last thing they needed was the rogues figuring out the agency had someone with a skill previously thought impossible.
Jason stayed by the bed, his hand still smoothing over Dana’s neck wanting to make sure the worst of her injuries were completely healed.
The doctor shook his head again, obviously conflicted between protecting his patient and identifying the source of her miracle cure.
Caleb placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “but we need to get Mrs. Nash somewhere safe. Can I trust you to get the paperwork done to transfer her to another facility without letting anyone else know the extent of her recovery?”
The doctor nodded obviously resigned to the fact he would have to do whatever was necessary to keep his patient safe. Her miracle cure wouldn’t be worth a damn if her assassin succeeded next time.
“Okay,” he said, “but I wonder if I could ask a personal favor. If you find out how she recovered, could you please let me know? I’ve watched too many people die in the last few years, and it would be a great help to have the knowledge to be able to save a lot more.”
Jason gave him a short nod, hoping Caleb or the doctors at the agency could help him come up with a plausible explanation that didn’t include telekinesis and healing hands.
Chapter Nine
“Ah, hi,” the nurse said quietly into the phone when someone answered on the other end. “It’s Joyce, the nurse from the hospital. You wanted me to let you know when Dana Nash died.”
The voice on the other end grunted, making her nervous, but she forged on, focusing on all of the money she was earning with this single phone call.
“Well, she’s not dead yet. But they transferred her this morning to another hospital. But there was something strange going on because I called the other hospital and they knew nothing about her transfer. And the doctor wouldn’t let the nurses into the room, which is completely against protocol. And the family was acting strange, like they knew she was going to be okay or something, which is really weird because with injuries like that, that woman is never going to be okay,” she said in a rush, starting to wonder if she’d made a bad choice.
“Thank you, Joyce,” the voice said.
“When do I get my money?” she asked plaintively, but the line was already dead. Glancing around nervously, Joyce moved to resume her work duties, wondering if she’d ever get paid and cursing her
own greedy stupidity.
Next time, she decided, she’d ask for the money up front.
* * * *
Theresa sensed Dana mentally shake her head in bewilderment. She wasn’t actually allowed to shake her head yet, and the neck brace made sure she didn’t forget, but she seemed to be having trouble absorbing all of the information Theresa and Alana were giving her.
Eleven days and several operations had passed her in a blur. She had only very vague half-memories of a sudden pain and then nothing. It must’ve been disconcerting to say the least, but judging by Dana’s reaction to the way Pete and Sandra and John had been hovering since she’d woken up, she didn’t believe a word of it. She’d eventually ordered them to give her some space, and they’d been quickly replaced by Alana and Rafe.
“What happened to Lexie?” she asked telepathically, her voice still sore from the breathing tube.
Alana looked really uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot and glanced at Theresa beside her.
“I know from the emotions swirling around all of you that something happened to Lexie, but nobody is talking. Every time I tried to raise the subject with Pete or Sandra or John, they gave me platitudes. Just tell me!” Theresa felt Dana’s anger rising. Soon the whole room would be shaking.
“Lexie’s fine, Dana. You know that. You just saw her a few minutes ago,” Theresa butted in, trying to diffuse the tension.
“I know what I saw. What I want to know is what happened to her after I was shot!”
Sighing in resignation, Theresa told her how Lexie was stolen by the rogues and Jason had been lucky enough to be the doctor on duty when they delivered her to “The Professor”—the same man who had held Sandra captive over a year ago.
