Boundless

by Annie Dean

  “Christ.” He touched his forehead to hers. She was cold to the touch. “Okay, Kitty, okay. Let's go.”

  She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and leaned against him as they crossed the street. The sweet smell of marijuana assaulted Jack's nose the second they stepped into the park and he held Kitty tighter against him. The punks smoking weed on a bench nearby looked up curiously at them, but ignored them for the most part. Behind some bushes, he heard a rustle and a slurping sound. It didn't take much imagination to guess what it was. When a bum tugged on his jacket to ask for spare change, Jack gave him whatever was in his pocket just so he'd go away.

  A few more steps and Kitty seemed to wake up against him. She pulled away from him and looked around wildly as though she wasn't quite sure where she was. A frisson of fear crept up Jack's spine. When her violet eyes met his, there wasn't a flash of recognition. She had no idea who he was. He reached a hand toward her and she almost tripped on her own feet trying to get away from him.

  “There you are, young miss,” boomed an impossibly deep voice from somewhere behind the trees. “I've been waiting for you.”

  Jack grabbed Kitty's wrist and pulled her toward him. She screamed and batted at his arm, fighting to escape him like a wild animal. One of her sharp fingernails caught him just under the chin and a sharp pain like a paper cut told him she had drawn blood. But she didn't even notice. She began to beat against his chest with her little fists and Jack had to force her hands to her sides to keep her from hurting him and herself.

  “Young miss,” the voice said and the surrounding air crackled with energy that reminded Jack of lightning.

  He didn't understand what was going on with Kitty, but he did know he had to get them as far away from the park before the owner of the voice decided to step away from its hiding place. In his arms, Kitty continued to fight him and he hoped to God he didn't have to knock her out just to get her to calm down. He would rather cut off his own arm than hurt her, but he knew if it came to punching her lights out to save their lives, he would do it.

  “Young miss.”

  The owner of the voice was someone who was used to giving orders and even Jack was forced to stop and take notice. All of his instincts, everything that had ever kept him alive for the past thirty years screamed at him to run and leave Kitty to the booming voice, but he resolutely kept his grip on her. If he died tonight defending Kitty from whatever the hell was chasing her—well, shit, it would definitely suck, but it would be a noble death and it would be worth it.

  “I have to get out of here,” she muttered, pulling at his jacket. “He's going to catch me and kill me. I have to get out of here.”

  Jack cupped her face between his hands. “Who, Kitty? Who's going to kill you?”

  “Nobody,” replied a deep voice behind him. “I'm not here to hurt her.”

  Jack reflexively blocked Kitty's body with his and whirled around to face the Darth Vader-sounding motherfucker. Jack had never considered himself a coward, but he would be a liar if he didn't admit that the big black dude in front of him didn't scare him a little. The guy had to be at least seven feet tall and maybe about four hundred pounds. Jack himself was only six-three and two hundred pounds soaking wet, but years of bar brawls and Bruce Lee movies ensured he would at least last five minutes with this guy. Kitty squeaked and dug her fingers into his back.

  Jack reached behind him and gave her a reassuring pat. “It's okay, baby. S'okay.” He raised his head to look at the giant. “What do you want from her?”

  The man, dressed in a tailored suit as dark as the night that surrounded them, flicked an imaginary speck of lint from his sleeve and looked back at him with boredom. “Do not concern yourself with our affairs, mortal. Best you leave Kiyo to me and go on your merry way.” He jerked his giant head toward Jack's apartment building. “Get out of here before I lose my temper and decide to yank your spine out of your mouth.”

  Mortal? What the hell kind of role-playing shit did he stumble into? Did this guy believe he was some kind of supernatural being and Kitty—Kiyo?—was his slave-girl? Jack tightened his grip on the woman shivering behind him. There was no way he was giving up Kitty to this creepy fucker. He reached inside his pocket to check, if by chance, he had brought his Swiss Army knife with him. His fingers gripped only his cell phone. Ah hell, he supposed he could always dial 911 and summon the cops to rescue them.

  The giant extended his long arm toward him. “Give her to me, mortal. She won't be harmed, I swear to you. All I want is to take her home.”

  Jack stepped away from the huge black hand. “She's not going anywhere with you, buddy. She belongs with me.”

  The man threw back his head and laughed out loud, scaring even the previously apathetic potheads sitting nearby. They looked at the giant, whispered frantically to each other, and ran out of the park. The bum Jack had given money to sidled up to the bench they had vacated, shrugged, and lay down to sleep.

  “Do you think I won't hurt you, mortal? I can snap you over my knee like kindling if I so choose.”

  Jack took a deep breath and stared at the giant with steely determination. “Maybe so, but I'm still not giving her to you. You'll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands.”

  The giant flashed him a set of blindingly white teeth. “So be it.” He grabbed the front of Jack's shirt and used it to lift him over his head like he weighed no more than an ounce. “Goodbye, mortal.”

  Jack closed his eyes as he sailed through the air before landing on the ground several feet away. The impact almost knocked him out, but he held on and refused to pass out. Kitty needs me. He weakly lifted his head, spitting out grass and dirt. When he tried to get up, he almost fainted again from the pain. He didn't need an X-ray to tell him he had a couple of broken ribs and was probably bleeding internally.

  In front of him, Kitty faced the giant with her fists clenched at her sides and her spine ramrod straight. Instead of being afraid, she looked up at the black man with fury, her long pink hair whipping in the wind behind her. Jack tried to yell at her to run, but it only came out as a croak. He dropped his head in defeat. The giant was going to crush her with his bare hands and Jack couldn't even do anything to help her.

  “I am not going anywhere with you! Just leave me alone.”

  Her voice carried in the wind, comforting Jack in his despair. His Kitty wasn't going to go down without a fight. He coughed and spat out something thicker than spit.

  Bracing his hands on the ground, he attempted to lift himself again, but his arms quickly collapsed under him and he landed face down on the grass.

  “You must leave this world, Kiyo,” the giant said. “Your presence alone is disrupting the fabric of its reality. It's unnatural that you should be here. If you stay any longer, you will destroy it and everyone living in it. Including your beloved human!”

  “You're fucking crazy,” Kitty screamed. “If you hurt him again, I swear I will tear you apart limb from limb. Just get the hell away from us!”

  There was a bright explosion above Jack's head and it took him a few seconds to realize that all the trees were on fire. He chanced a glance upward and was momentarily mesmerized by the umbrella of fire above him, only looking away when the blaze began to hurt his eyes. He coughed again, this time from the smoke burning his lungs. Ignoring the pain in his side, he reached for a clump of grass in front of him and used it to drag himself forward. He repeated the motion, gritting his teeth. He had to get to Kitty. He had to make sure she was safe.

  Suddenly, she was kneeling next to him and putting his arm around her neck. With a grunt, she lifted him to his knees, but he was too heavy for her. They toppled to the grass together with her landing on top of him.

  “Come on, Jack,” she begged. “Get up.”

  He raised his head. In the amber glow of the fire above them, she had never looked more beautiful. Maybe it was hallucination brought on by smoke inhalation, but he thought she looked like an angel. “Go. Leave me here.”
<
br />   “Fuck you,” she said fiercely. “I'm not leaving you. If you don't fucking get up, I'm going to sit down next to you and we can burn together.”

  “Shit. You're a little brat, you know that?” With the strength he didn't know he had, he hauled himself up to his feet with Kitty at his side guiding him. Because of the smoke, he couldn't see very well and hoped he didn't accidentally lead them deeper into the park.

  “Come on, Jack, hurry. It's getting a little too hot in here.”

  As if on cue, the skies opened up and poured without warning, effectively putting out the fire above their heads. Jack wrapped his arms around Kitty, luxuriating in her heat and softness. The rain was freezing cold, but he didn't care. Kitty was holding him and they were alive. She felt so good pressed against his body. He could almost ignore the stabbing pain in his side.

  He looked heavenward and allowed the rain to wash the blood from his face. In the mist that formed from the smoke and moisture, the sputtering flames looked like drunken fireflies. He couldn't help but admire the absurd beauty of it. Within moments, the fire was extinguished and the rain suddenly stopped as though a divine hand had reached out and turned it off.

  “Nature's own emergency sprinklers,” he murmured to himself.

  “What?” Kitty asked, still valiantly trying to hold him up.

  “Nothing. Never mind.” From a distance, he could hear the sirens of the fire trucks headed toward them. Even though it felt like a knife in the ribs, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

  * * * *

  “Well, shit, this has to be the weirdest date I've ever been on,” Jack said as Kitty eased him down on his couch. “And oddly enough, the most fun.”

  “Nice save.” Kitty chuckled as she pulled off his shoes. She leaned over him and began to unbuckle his belt, her long hair brushing against his belly. “Are you sure you don't want the paramedics to check you out, Jack? They're just downstairs.”

  “I'm fine. Bruised ribs, that's all. It doesn't even hurt that much anymore.” As soon as he said the words, he realized how true they were. He had been near death until Kitty had touched him with her hands. He knew it sounded crazy, but he had felt it for himself. Kitty, merely by touching him, had … fixed him.

  “God, Jack, you scared the crap out of me. I thought you were going to die.” She efficiently unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then pulled them down his legs. “I mean, you were just lying there and you wouldn't get up. I was…” She dropped the sodden pants on the coffee table and sat down next to him, covering her mouth with her palm.

  “Hey.” He sat up and cradled her against him as she began to sob. Gut-wrenching sobs that racked her small frame and broke his heart. “It's okay, Kitty. I'm fine now.”

  She raised her head, her violet eyes swimming with tears, and smacked him on the arm with the back of her hand. “Thanks to me, you big goober. If I hadn't made you get up, you'd still be lying there, probably burned to a crisp by now.”

  “Hey, the rain would have put out the fire before it got me.” He started to chuckle, but thought better of it. Instead he ran his hand through his damp hair and sighed. “Kitty, what happened tonight? Even before that big guy popped up, you totally flipped out on me. At one point, I don't think you even recognized me.”

  “Oh God,” she whispered more to herself than to him. “It happened again.”

  Jack squeezed her hand. “What happened again, sweetheart?”

  She pulled herself out of his embrace and rose from the couch. Turning away from him, she tugged at the tie on the side of her wrap dress and pushed the garment off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She picked up the robe she had worn that morning, slipped it on, then turned around to face him again. “Jack, I…”

  The pain in her eyes was almost his undoing. He wanted to get up and gather her in his arms, but she held out a hand to stop him. “What, baby?”

  “I think I'm broken.”

  Chapter Seven

  “What are you talking about?”

  Jack was lying against the cushions, his long legs propped up on the coffee table in front of him. She thought his color looked a lot better, especially since he was as pale as a corpse just moments earlier. The black button-down shirt he wore was soaking wet and clung to his lean, muscled chest. She wanted to take it off him, so she could see for herself that he was as fine as he proclaimed, but couldn't trust herself not to break down in front of him some more and soak him with her tears.

  “My memory … it's totally shot. I can't remember anything past the last month or so. I don't remember what my parents look like … I can't even remember their names.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest and leaned against the kitchen counter. The spot on the couch next to Jack beckoned, but she resisted. She could never think straight when he was near and she needed her faculties now more than ever. “Lately I've been blacking out and when I come to, I'd have no idea where I am or how I got there. It happened this morning at the waffle house.” She smiled sheepishly at him. “I couldn't remember who you were.”

  The grin he gave her was crooked. “That's all right, sweetheart. Most mornings, I don't remember who I am, either.”

  Kitty knew he was only kidding, but she felt like screaming at him. Could he even understand what it felt like to wake up and find a gaping hole where a brain is supposed to be? “That's not what I mean, Jack. I really didn't remember you. Like I had never met you. That place in my brain where I store my memories of you … it was just … not there.” She threw her arms in the air, unable to explain. “God, I don't know.” She clutched her head for a moment, then looked up, compelling him to understand with her eyes. “Does … that even make sense?”

  Jack laughed, but there was no humor in it. “If I could only tell you how many times I've woken up without knowing where I am or how I got there.” He rubbed the scar on his forehead. “Kitty, that doesn't make you crazy. It just means you need help. Have you been to a doctor?”

  It was Kitty's turn to laugh. It was that or break down into gut-wrenching sobs. She knew once she started, she would never be able to stop. “Waste of time and money. I've been to two specialists and they couldn't tell me anything. I could have an inoperable tumor or something and wouldn't even know about it.” She tented her fingers over her nose and shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Jack was staring at her, but his own eyes conveyed nothing. “God, I'm babbling. Forget I said anything. I'm probably in shock over what happened tonight. Delayed reaction or something.” She nodded at him. “You should probably take off your shirt. It's soaked. You'll get a cold.”

  Jack looked down at himself as though he hadn't noticed his wet shirt. “Oh.” He unbuttoned his shirt half of the way, then pulled it over his head, his muscles rippling with the easy grace of his movements. He placed the shirt on top of the pants, then raised his gaze to her. “Is this better?”

  “Uh-huh.” Kitty could have swallowed her tongue. She’d seen Jack shirtless earlier when he stepped out of the shower, but was too distracted with her dragon problem to really pay attention. Simply put, Jack was solidly built. His chest muscles looked firm and his stomach didn't appear to have an ounce of fat in it. Whipcord-lean and strong, he reminded her of a prized racehorse. She took a deep breath and blinked. He had a tattoo of some kind that wrapped around his bicep. “What is that?”

  He extended his arm straight out and rolled it at the shoulder so he could take a look at it. “Oh. It's a good-luck dragon. I got it in college. A couple of friends and I got really drunk one night and one of the geniuses suggested we…”

  Kitty felt as though someone had taken a bat to her gut. White noise, the crinkling sound that took over TV stations at three in the morning, blared in her ears. When she looked at Jack on the sofa, there were two of him, one hovering above the other. Feeling a little dizzy, she grabbed the back of a chair to keep herself on her feet. “A dragon?”

  “Yeah… Kitty, are you okay?” He leapt to his feet and rushed to her side, sl
ipping his arm around her shoulders. “Let's take a seat on the couch, okay? I will…”

  “No! Don't touch me!” She slid out of his hold and pushed him away, tripping on her own feet in her hurry to get away from him. “You're behind all of this, aren't you? That stupid boat and the statue and my shitty memory and the dragon that comes and talks to me… You're in cahoots with him or something. I don't know why you're doing this or if you're trying to drive me crazy—just fucking stay away from me!”

  Jack stood before her in his boxer shorts, his arms akimbo. “There's a dragon that comes and talks to you?”

  “Oh, don't play innocent, Jack. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Kitty scrambled to her feet, batting away at Jack's hands. There was a deep burning feeling in her chest that was making it difficult for her to breathe. She had to get out of here, find a dark corner somewhere and pull herself tightly into a ball.

  “Kitty, wait.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. He looked confused, but obviously worried about her. “Whatever it is that's going on, I can assure you I have nothing to do with it. I'm just an average guy. The shit that went down tonight, the trees going up in flames … baby, I can't do any of that.”

  Kitty lost the battle trying to rein in her tears and allowed them to spill down her cheeks. She pried off Jack's grip on her shoulders and pushed him away, taking a step back from him. Her eyes were drawn to the faded dragon tattoo on his arm. It looked more like a snake than anything, but it had a big head, big eyes, and a forked tongue. Unlike the red dragon stalking her, it didn't look scary. In fact, it was almost … cute. She raised her gaze to Jack's silver one and found only concern … and a deeper emotion that she wasn't ready to analyze. He wanted to understand her. For some reason, Jack cared about her. He would never hurt her.

  She shoved her hands through her hair and whirled away from him, too ashamed to even look at him. Hell, he was the only thing that made sense in her life anymore. She didn't know what she would do if he decided she was nuts and turned her away. “Jack… I feel like I’m losing my mind. These blackouts I've been having… I can't tell what's real or imaginary anymore. The worst part is…” She looked back at him. He had not moved from his spot, his hands still propped on his lean hips. “I'm afraid I'll do something to hurt you.” She watched him take a step toward her and froze when he slid his arms around her from behind.