Endless Abduction

by Gloria Martin

  Jack frowned. "No I don't know. Spell it out."

  Henry started pacing.

  "Henry—"

  His brother stopped and scowled at him. "Coming down off a bit of a high, okay?"

  Dread washed over Jake. He and his brother had been here before and it was not a place where Jake wanted to be again. "Are you usin' again?"

  Henry flinched. "No."

  "You still in school?"

  Henry looked pained. "Well…"

  "Henry," Jake warned.

  His brother ran a hand through his hair, then put both out in a halt stance. "Okay. Let me say that it wasn't my fault before you rip me a new one." He put a hand on his heart. "And I can explain it all, I swear. The stuff wasn't even mine—seriously—no, no. Jake!" He jumped back when Jake stepped toward him. "This thing with Mom had me totally stressed out. I couldn’t think. I didn't know what to do. These guys are serious and she was all hysterical and our trust money doesn't come for another three weeks. I tried to explain that but these guys didn't want to hear it. Meanwhile she's crying and screaming in the background, and they kept hollerin'—"

  Jake put his hands on his face while his brother raged in a circle. Did he really think coming home for two weeks’ leave would involve any kind of R and R? Clearly he'd forgotten what it was to deal with his family and bullshit. It had only been forty-eight hours and he already painfully missed the military. His unit. Orders and discipline. Dealing with the war on terror was fucking easier than dealing with this shit. He stared around the room as if somehow sanity and logic would pour out of the dirt-streaked wall.

  Unfortunately, all he saw was his brother. Two years on his own now, and still the concept of maturity and responsibility was completely lost on him.

  "Henry. Jesus. Stop. Just fucking stop talking." He got into his brother's face, grinding his teeth so hard it hurt. This was supposed to be his and Marianne's time, not this… bullshit.

  Henry froze and stared at his brother, his big green eyes wide like an owl’s. "You're gonna help me, right? I didn't want to go to Marianne but I didn't know what else to do. I kind of—"

  "Panicked?" Marianne came out of the bathroom in a coconut-scented mist. She tossed the towel around her head back into the sink before she dumped three bottles of conditioner and two pots of hair grease onto the bed. "Showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Three o'clock in the morning screamin' and cryin' just like he's doing now." She picked up a wide tooth comb and pulled it through her hair.

  Henry scowled at her. "I wasn't… crying. I just left a smoke-filled room and I had a bunch of shit in my eyes."

  "Right." Marianne rolled her eyes.

  Jake couldn't take his eyes off her, now she was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved T that rode up to reveal her pierced belly button every time she lifted her arm to her hair. His dick kept twitching at the sight. She had put in the diamond he'd given her three years ago on the day he left for BUD/S training; and as a challenge accepted (I make it through Hell Week and you wear my diamond), she got herself pierced the day he made it through, and wore it after he graduated a full-fledged SEAL.

  He looked from his diamond in her navel to her fingers around the brush. He was home on a mission to get her to wear another one of his diamonds, this time on her ring finger if he had his way. And he would have his way if he had to politely ask, challenge, romance or bully her into saying yes.

  He captured her eyes and held them. We are not done.

  She smirked and continued playing with her hair.

  Marianne had been born a free spirit, and the only frigging things she committed to were those of her own choosing. He would make sure he stayed her first choice. He'd spent a lifetime chasing her, and grounding her. Even though she sometimes managed to squirm out from beneath him, run off to pursue some kind of wonderful only she could see, she remained his and his alone.

  It was something they both knew and the time had come for him to cement it.

  He grit his teeth and looked back at his brother. "So what did you do? Drag her out of bed to help your sorry ass?"

  "Like it's the first time?" She tossed her comb onto the bed and peered into the cracked mirror on the wall behind her. "Only now with your arrival, my part here is done. You can sort him out. I have an exam and a thesis summary to write before Friday."

  Jake glared at Henry. "You took her away from final classes?"

  "They said they'd kill her if we didn't pay her debts." Henry grabbed the beer can and looked pleadingly at Marianne before he pressed it gingerly to his eye again. He blinked the other one at Jake. "She was the one who calmed those guys down to get this exchange in place."

  Jake looked back at Marianne. "Exchange?"

  She looked back him. "I do have skills, you know."

  "I can't fucking believe this.” He looked back at his brother. "How much?" He grabbed the beer can and slammed it down on the top of the fridge. "How much does that bitch owe?"

  Henry looked at the floor. "I ah… dunno—about…"

  Marianne scooped up her pile of hair products and dumped them into Jake's army bag.

  "Hey." He shot her a look. "You can't put that stuff in there."

  She twisted her hair into some kind of ponytail, looking at Henry the whole time in the reflection. "You don't know?" She raised an eyebrow. "I know." She nodded toward the bottom of the bed. "Fifty thousand dollars is what I know. In a back pack out in bumfuck nowhere. Like some kind of really bad B-movie plot. The entire cost of my graduate studies grant cashed out for this shit."

  "You are fucking kidding me!" Jake grabbed Henry's shirt and swung him around.

  "Ow. Jesus, Jake! You don't know these guys, they're crazy and—"

  Jake tossed him toward the bottom of the bed. "Get it out."

  Henry sprawled beneath the bed and came out holding a stuffed knapsack. Jake grabbed it from him and rifled through the wads of cash inside. Un-fucking-believable! He was in a bad B-movie.

  "So what was your plan? Where the fuck were you two going with this?" He continued to dig through the bag in shock. "Just show up someplace with a bag of money, the two of you, and they'd just hand over your mother? You can't be that stupid—either one of you."

  "Excuse me," Marianne put a hand on her hip. "I am not stupid. A victim maybe but—who are you calling stupid?" She glared at Jake.

  He put up a flat hand to her and turned to Henry. "Where exactly is your mother? Still in Vegas? The two of you are on a road trip to Vegas?" He flicked a look back to Marianne.

  "Don't look at me. I'm leaving. Taking my stupid ass home." She grabbed up the car keys and snatched her purse. "He," she threw a look over her shoulder, "is your problem now. But let's be clear. I will torture you both if I don't get my tuition back the second your trust pays out." She jabbed the keys in Henry's direction. "Don't let this be like the bail episode. I want my money back."

  Jake looked from Marianne to Henry. "What bail episode?"

  Marianne ignored them both and pulled open the front door, screaming when she ran into three huge bikers darkening the doorway.

  *****

  Marianne put her hands on the biggest biker's chest as the hulking beast of a man forced her back inside the room. "You just come around here, sweat pea."

  She stumbled over her feet and his big-ass boots, her purse and keys flying from her fingers when he grabbed her arm and yanked her around his back and kicked the room door shut.

  "Umph!" Air lodged in her throat with her chest wedged between his broad leather back and the cheap wooden door, a thick stench of body odor and sour ass blasting up her nose.

  "And stay quiet." He leaned backward, squashing her more.

  "Hurt her and you're a dead man." Jake's voice came coldly from across the room.

  The hulk leaned back farther, deliberately forcing her to turn her head to get relatively clear air. "You hurt back there, sweet pea?"

  "Yes!" She wheezed and glanced down at the door handle then at the other biker besid
e her, a shorter carbon-copy of the one ramming her into the door. She ran her eyes over his hawkish profile and leather vest, a patch over his chest declared him as 'Squid—Sergeant at Arms.' She looked at the black gun he held.

  "Jake, they have guns," she forced out between pants.

  "Don't worry, babe. I got this."

  She closed her eyes. He's got this. Of course he does. Jake could handle himself in this or any situation. Herself? Not so much. She needed to get the hell out of here. She never should have answered the door when Henry pounded on it yesterday. But, what choice did she have? Had she ever turned Henry away when he needed help? He wasn't just Jake's brother, he was like her little brother, too. He always had been since she had no siblings or even cousins of her own.

  Still, she tried to inhale. She was such a predictable bleeding heart without any good sense of self-preservation. Her grandmother had called it when she was young and here she was almost two dozen years later making good the prediction, smacked against a door by some beefy biker, temporarily out of her tuition fees when she should be in her room studying and finishing her thesis to finalize her graduation. She mentally slapped herself upside her own head for never learning how to say no.

  Jake, on the other hand, wasn't an active duty Navy SEAL by chance. He was born for this shit and used to being rock solid capable since the day his mother died and his father fell apart. At ten years old he'd stepped up to take care of Henry and the rest of his family until he escaped to the Navy for time on his own. For years, he'd kept her grounded when her inherent tendency toward flight hit.

  Whenever trouble rolled in, physical or emotional, she was gone. She never stuck around to fight. Her instinct went toward escape and she ran. Like right now for instance. She couldn't get out of here fast enough. Between the way Jake had so easily pinned her down last night and had her climaxing like a wanton beneath him—a complete threat to the determined peace and tranquility she'd built into her life since he left—and these bikers threatening her life, she couldn't even breathe. She didn't dare inhale, the stench radiating off this guy was so putrid. She shrank as far back as she could into the door, grasping the handle, her body vibrating with the need to run out of here.

  "You the guy on the phone?" his voice rumbled so deep in his chest, she felt rather than heard him.

  "Yes."

  She frowned when both Henry and Jake answered at the same time.

  "Which one of yous’ guys is Henry?"

  "I am." again they both answered.

  Oh good God. She grabbed the handle tighter, turning it slowly. She glanced at the guy beside her. His attention was fully focused on either Jake or Henry or both.

  "Uh huh." Hulk pressed backward again. She froze. "My President said to look for a ginger. You ain't no ginger."

  Real Einstein here. She squirmed and sucked in her stomach.

  "And to bring the girl," he looked over his shoulder at her. "He wants to meet you."

  Her stomach retched at his breath. "Yeah, great. Can't wait to meet him, too." She slid her hand from against the door and onto his shoulder. She tried to see around him to Jake, squeezing out two of her fingers and tapping once on the beefy mass before her. It was a signal she and Jake used, and she hoped he'd remember from playing chase in the forest as kids.

  "He didn't say nothin' about no other guy. Who the hell are—fuck!"

  Marianne pushed with everything she had and slithered down the door. She turned the handle and wrenched, skittering through the slight opening on her knees like a puppy making an outside escape. She squinted and crawled toward the parking lot and her car, screaming when two shots rang out then something heavy crashed behind her.

  The door! She covered her head and rolled into fetal position as the hulk crashed to the ground on top of the door. Instinct, even though Jake had drilled into her to never look back, forced her to look over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Jake advancing on the hulk's writhing body.

  "Jake!" She stood up then fell back to the ground when another shot exploded from inside the room. Oh my God, Henry! She started to turn back then focused on her Lexus and half squatted, half ran toward it, dropping down behind the wheel. "Jake! Henry!" She had to see what was happening. She turned and lay flat on her stomach, peeking out from under the car from behind the rear wheel. The biker who had the gun, Squid, came stumbling out of the door, blood pouring from his nose. No sight of the other one, though a big pair of boots lay in sight through the open door.

  "Henry!" Her eyes widened as Henry ran out from behind the stumbling man and tackled him onto the hulk and Jake. Four bodies rolled on the ground, grunting and kicking and punching, until Jake was on top of the hulk holding the man's vest in one hand and punching him with the other.

  "Jake!" He was going to murder the man, something she was sure would get him kicked out of his beloved Navy. She started to get up when Jake dropped the hulk, a complete bloody pulverized mess onto the pavement.

  "Marianne!" Jake hollered as he scanned the parking lot. He turned toward his brother, still rolling around on the ground with the other guy. Jake kicked the biker in the face, immediately halting all movement. "Marianne!" he hollered again and looked toward her car, his face and knuckles bloodied.

  "Over here!" She pushed onto her knees.

  "Stay put," he ordered, then leaned down to Henry. "Get the fuck up." He pulled his brother to stand then stormed back into the motel room. He came out seconds later with her purse, his duffle and the knapsack in his hands. "Start the car, babe!" He threw the keys at her.

  *****

  Jake kicked the new motel room door shut with his foot. "Don't make me have to tie you to that bed, Marianne." He watched her walk to the bathroom and dump his duffle at the door before turning on the water. She grabbed a washcloth and tossed it into the sink. "We've never used rubbers before, why the hell would we start now?"

  She glared at him over her shoulder.

  They'd been having this insane argument for the past half hour in the car. He'd just taken out three bikers, their buddies were probably already on their asses for payback, he was still bleeding, and they had fifty grand in a fucking knapsack on the back seat, his brother curled around it and snoring, fucking snoring! And all she wanted to do was give him hell for not using a rubber?

  He'd come back home to the Twilight Zone.

  Yes, he had lost his mind finding her in bed with his brother, and at the time had done all his thinking with his dick, but who could blame him? He was also clean. They all but crawled up his ass with a microscope to regularly test him on the teams, and he had no reason to think there was anything up with her. She'd been on the pill for years for “girl” reasons as she'd informed him, and she'd never been with anyone but him so why would a condom suddenly become necessary? His heart stumbled and he frowned at her.

  "Did you go off the pill? Is that what this is about? You don't want to get pregnant?" He was unexpectedly insulted. What would be so wrong with having his kid? It wasn't like—he moved when something came hurtling at him. "What the fuck?" Her shoe hit the door beside his head then bounced to the floor.

  "You are a colossal ass!" She strode out of the bathroom to the desk and yanked out the chair.

  "What?" He eyed the way she slammed down the frail piece of furniture. "You're freakin' out over condoms we've never used. It doesn't make any sense unless—you're on the rag?"

  She held up a hand. "Jake—" she reached down for her other shoe but stopped and turned it over in her hands. "Stop talking. Just stop before I start screaming and ruin both of these." She set the shoe on the desk, but didn't actually take her fingers away. One more wrong move and that shoe was going to be embedded in his forehead.

  He blew out a breath with all the restraint of a bull.

  "Now, are you going to stand there, guarding the door, snorting and pawing the ground, or let me fix your face?" She let go of the shoe and held up the wet cloth.

  He crossed his arms. "We have shit to work out."
>
  She stared back at him. "Forget it, Jake. Let's just fix your head."

  "My head's fine." He set his jaw and snapped the door lock in place.

  She lifted her eyebrows and opened her mouth, but he cut the sarcasm he knew she was about to deliver. They would get to the bottom of this before either one of them left this room. Something had her on a tear and it was more than his brother, the money, or anything to do with this situation. It was something between her and him and started back before he left.

  Soldiers and their women knew the fragility of life. They lived with the knowledge that everything they had, the life they lead, the people they loved could be taken from them just like that. War. The enemy. A battlefield didn't care if you didn't get a chance to kiss her goodbye, tell her that you loved her, or say you were sorry. Military families accommodated, adapted, and always looked ahead. They made up from fights immediately because deployment could happen in moments. They kissed, and said sorry, and made sure things were set right before leaving because they might not come back.

  When he left, he and Marianne had set things right enough that he left without worrying about things at home. But something had been wrong… and had festered… and was now between them.

  He sighed. "Babe, tell me what this is all about. What's really going on here? Because I have feeling if I didn't find you first, I might not have found you at all."

  "Jake—"

  "Why are you planning to take off on me?"

  "I'm not planning anything."

  "No?"

  "No." She gripped the back of the chair.

  He looked pointedly at her fingers. "You're lying." He walked to the chair, pulled her around in front of him and sat down. "Why are you fighting the idea of being permanently my girl?" He took her hands and held them in his.

  She looked away and for a such a long moment he wasn't sure she'd ever answer. "I like things the way they are—were."

  "We've always been together, babe. That's how things always were."