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In My Heart (The Mile High Club)

Page 16

by Powers, Jade


  Estella returned from her much needed rest, and it was time for Sven to go. Feeling torn in two, Sven left Minka’s side.

  Chapter 22

  MINKA DESPERATELY MISSED Sven in the days following his trip to Miami. He called the hospital and spoke with Estella when Minka was unavailable. He was still in Miami when she was released from the hospital.

  Minka sat in her mom’s kitchen drinking hot chocolate and feeling strangely child-like. Her body hurt, but it felt good to be home.

  “Mom, do you think I’m on the rebound?”

  “If you are it’s about time,” Estella bustled around, wiping counters and pouring out the water from the tea kettle.

  “I loved Joe at first.”

  “I know you did, Honey.” Estella didn’t mention the arguments mother and daughter had waged on that very subject.

  “What if Sven turns out to be like Joe?”

  “Then you get the hell away from him. This time is different. You can’t see it because you’re too close, but Sven and Joe aren’t at all alike. That’s something you’ll just have to learn.”

  “What do I do?” Minka felt rudderless. She didn’t have a job and didn’t want to look for one with the prospect of Montana ahead.

  “Sort through your stuff. Get rid of what you don’t need and plan your move to Montana, or stay here, get a job, and start your life without him. You have plenty of choices.” Estella was always a no-nonsense kind of person. She’d said her piece to Minka about Joe just like she had with Sven.

  “I’m moving to Montana with him.” Minka was firm on her decision. She was stronger now, much stronger than she had ever been with Joe. The new Minka wouldn’t have put up with Joe’s crap for so many years. She could see now how wrong things had gone. She wouldn’t confuse false security for love.

  Minka was in love with Sven. She couldn’t wait until that in-love morphed into the solid strength of a constant love. That was what she wanted, a real relationship.

  IT HAD BEEN TWO MONTHS since Sven’s trip to Miami, and things were finally calming down. Sven grinned in eager anticipation as he drove Minka from the airport in a Ford F150 he bought second-hand from one of the locals.

  They drove an hour from the airport through small towns until they reached a house nestled into a field with pine trees and a rustic feel. The house was ranch style. Sven held the door open. For the first time in a long time, he felt nervous. The house had more of Sven in it than he cared to admit.

  Minka picked up a photo of a family of four. Sven was a boy then, with the cocky grin that comes of youth and the feeling of immortality. A young girl with a front tooth missing brightly grinned at his side.

  “My sister died young. Guy was drunk and drove into our lawn at two in the afternoon. Mom and Dad split a few years later and remarried, and I graduated and left home. They’re gone now, too.” His pain squeezed into a single statement.

  “I’m sorry,” Minka said. She wrapped her arms around Sven and nestled her cheek on his back.

  It felt like home.

  Sven slowly turned. He lifted Minka and carried her to the bedroom.

  With a soft smile, Minka said, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  Kissing her softly, Sven whispered, “You belong here.”

  He caressed her cheek before sliding his hands to her blouse, slowly unbuttoning each button one by one in a sensual invitation. Minka tugged on his jeans, working the zipper. His kisses deepened, his mouth opening to her. He tasted of peppermint. Minka explored his lips with her tongue, sweetly and hesitantly.

  Sven touched the skin around Minka’s fresh scars.

  She said, “Do you think they’re ugly?”

  “No. They remind me of your strength.”

  Carefully undressing Minka, Sven found his way to her thatch. He teased her womanhood until Minka’s back arched and her body celebrated. She slid her hands down his chest to his shaft, her fingers a torment as his body reacted. His voice was gravelly when he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m ready,” Minka slid her fingers along silky smooth skin, teasing and flirting. She was still recovering but she could take it.

  “Tell me if it hurts,” Sven lowered himself slowly into Minka’s welcoming flower. He slid smoothly into her body, holding himself back as he moved inside her. His tenderness filled her with awe. Never had she been treated with such care. Sven tempered his own needs to soothe hers. He pulled out before release and grabbed his underwear, spilling into the cloth.

  With a rueful smile, he said, “Just in case. Someday I want kids. Not until things are settled.”

  They cuddled, and Minka fell asleep with her hand on Sven’s thigh. The morning dawned on a quiet house nestled among the majesty of a pine forest. Sven still worked for AIT, although the Spokane branch would close. Tom was still missing, and Sven would have to help Drake hunt down their friend.

  Sven still had responsibilities and would for a short time, but now he also had someone to love.

  And that...was everything.

  The End

  Book 2: On My Mind is Available On Amazon

  *** TOM’S KIDNAPPING IS resolved in Book 3: In My Life.

  Continue reading for an excerpt from On My Mind.

  On My Mind

  Chapter 1

  ~~ CORAL GABLES, FL April 1998~~

  Hannah McKay locked her dorm room in Eaton. Slightly overweight and bookish, Hannah nonetheless had a pretty face. She was a junior at The University of Miami and the year so far had been hell. Hoping the halls would be empty, she adjusted her backpack. No such luck. The hall was full of friends. She murmured hello to a few coeds and strode quickly to the elevator, glad that everyone was already deep in their own conversations.

  Pancreatic Cancer.

  She should have never mentioned chances. That was her first mistake. Hannah wanted to crumple, to cry, to scream, but most of all, she wanted to forget. She wanted the blissful ignorance of the painful stomach ulcer she thought she had, not the fearful torment of the rampaging tumor she was diagnosed with.

  Pushing the first floor on the elevator, Hannah was grateful that at least her classes were over for the week. She would spend the afternoon at the library where she was NOT going to check the medical stacks to search for her illness. The time she spent online had been more than enough to scare her silly.

  The doctor didn’t talk in months or years even when Hannah pushed. He just said, “We should treat this aggressively. I can get in touch with your local doctors.”

  Hannah didn’t want her local doctors. She didn’t want to call home. This trip to the library was another way of putting off the inevitable.

  The air was warm. The fountain in the middle of the lake gave the campus a serene, magical feeling. Burying her fear, Hannah decided to pick up a few good books and completely forget everything until Sunday. She would call her mother then, and they could figure out what she would do.

  As she walked along the pathway, a guy looking over his shoulder sprinted out of the Student Union building. He slowed down as he approached Hannah, but somehow when he looked over his shoulder again, he ran right into her, knocking her off her feet.

  Out of breath, he held out his hand and helped her up with profuse apologies as he handed her backpack to her, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Hannah rubbed her arm. “It’s okay.”

  A pair of men came around the corner after him. With a gasp, the guy who knocked her down took off running. This time Hannah got completely off the path as the other two men raced by. She was a bit relieved that the first fellow had ducked off the pathway and into Eaton. It looked like he would escape.

  Hannah continued on toward the Student Union following the large pathway lined with palm trees and little salamanders sunning themselves. She stopped to tell security about the chase she had seen. Past the stairs where skateboarders loved to attempt huge leaps, Hannah focused on the tall building that held four floors of books. She could easily lose ho
urs in that place.

  Hannah found herself searching for near death experiences in the catalog. As she wandered the stack, her fingers trailed a dozen self help titles, “The Secret, The Gift, Life’s Amazing Journey, and How to Be Your Own Boss.”

  Suddenly the imaginary future life Hannah had planned for herself twisted in and folded up. Pulling a title called Making the Most of Your Life, Hannah whispered , “I may not live a year. I may not see next summer.”

  Carrying the book to one of the comfy chairs, she sat down and started to read. With a groan, she snapped the book shut and left it on the table. She didn’t have time to spend a day of her life reading about how to make every day of her life count. It had to happen now. She had to do something.

  She tugged on her backpack, only then noticing a strange little statue in the pocket. A scrap of paper came out with the dragon. On the paper was scribbled a list of numbers, 7-3-7-2-1-0-2-3-8-8-8-0-Center.

  With a puzzled frown, she lifted the dragon up, turning it over in her hand. The kid who knocked her over must have slipped it in there. He had spent just that extra second handing over her backpack and helping her up before those goons came running. Maybe he was smuggling drugs.

  Hannah spent the better part of the hour in the library playing with the dragon. The scales had a metallic quality and the statue itself was impressive in artistic scope. And the base of the dragon had a circle of numbers that looked like a tiny calculator around a large button in the center. That explained the scrap of paper.

  She carefully hit each button until she reached the end of the string of numbers. When she hit the center button, a strange electronic whirr brought the base of the dragon down and a small sphere the size of her finger slid out. The sphere was metallic and like nothing Hannah had ever seen. Hannah pushed on the base of the dragon, surprised when it closed on its own. Electricity shocked her fingers, prickling where the sphere touched and for a moment, Hannah felt pain in her fingertips and itching. She dropped the sphere and it rolled along the carpet.

  Hannah’s intuition was in full-scale alarm. Someone wanted this thing. Picking it up, she shoved it quickly into her shorts’ pocket before she had to feel those strange electrical probes again. She was wearing denim shorts, not too tight. With a sigh, she tucked the dragon into her backpack, and the scrap of paper into the book as a bookmark. She proceeded to checkout feeling completely exhausted.

  As she passed the parking lot, she heard piteous whining. Miami was hot. Super hot. She couldn’t imagine anyone in this climate accidentally leaving a pet in the car. Following her ears, Hannah started through the parking lot in super-sleuth mode. The whimpering softened into a pathetic little cry. Tilting her head, Hannah listened. She approached the black van.

  Hannah stood on the other side of one of those sliding van doors simultaneously angry and sad that someone would leave their puppy in what had to be a roasting vehicle. She was frozen with indecision. She thought about trying the door to see if it would open or going for campus security.

  While her head was down, a stranger slid quietly around the van, a rag in his hand. Hannah didn’t hear him. He was that quiet. He grabbed her behind, holding the rag against her mouth while his partner opened the door from the inside. There was no puppy.

  They dragged her into the van. She kicked and wrenched herself back and forth, trying to get free. One of the men sat on her and stuck her with a needle while the other ran to the driver’s side.

  But I’m supposed to have a year. Hannah thought before the world went dark.

  When Hannah opened her eyes, she was in a small room with a concrete floor. The walls were filled with graffiti and two broken windows were boarded up. An old air conditioner clunked along, but the room was on the hot side. She was tied up with her hands behind her back and her feet tied to a chair.

  “How does it work?” The man doing the asking was in his thirties. His eyelid drooped where a scar ran right across his face over his eye and down his cheek.

  Hannah stared at him.

  He gave her a little slap on the cheek, “I’m talking to you. How does it work?”

  Shaking her head, Hannah said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Leaning in, Scarface slipped a knife out of his pocket and let the cold steel talk for him. Hannah shrank away from the knife point lying on her cheek, but it followed her back, “Shhh...Sweetheart. Don’t make any sudden moves. I’d hate for you to lose an eye. I know how inconvenient it can be.”

  Drawing a shuddering breath, Hannah said, “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His breath smelled like coffee and juicy fruit when he whispered in her ear, “Where is the mind control tech?”

  Shaking, a tear slid down Hannah’s cheek wetting the blade. She closed her eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Doesn’t your boyfriend know that dragon is traceable? We never did catch up with him, but here you are with the statue, so tell us how it works.” His eyes were cold...serial killer eyes. A shiver like cold ice slithered down Hannah’s spine.

  “I don’t know anything about the statue. I swear!” Hannah cried out as the knife bit into her cheek and a bead of blood dribbled down her chin. Somewhere deep inside, she knew if she spilled the secrets of the dragon, if she revealed the sphere in her pocket she would die.

  “She’s telling the truth,” The second guy was younger and a little geeky. He held the tiny little blue dragon statue, perfectly carved with tiny scales that seemed to glitter and shift to green in the light. “You ever see this before?”

  Hannah pulled back away from the knife, “Someone slipped it into my backpack. Before that, no. Please let me go.”

  “We should have just stolen the pack,” Geekboy said.

  The other man relaxed his hand, pulling the knife away from her skin. She heard the click of the blade closing as another bead of blood welled up on her cheek. “He knew we were after him and planted it on this bitch here,” Scarface sneered at Hannah.

  “Hey! Watch the name-calling.” Hannah said.

  “We can’t wait around. We’ll just have to turn in what we have without the instructions,” Scarface’s footsteps echoed as he walked away.

  “But we’ll only get half the money.”

  Scarface ignored the protest. Hannah could hear the sounds of him doing something behind her. It made her shoulders itch. She squirmed in her seat. “What are you going to do with me?”

  She felt the needle plunge into her arm again, “You’re insurance.”

  The room seemed to spin round and round and round. Hannah swallowed bile finding it hard to breathe. Eventually the dizziness stopped and sweet cold darkness took its place.

  The next time Hannah McKay opened her eyes, she was in a claustrophobic space without enough air. The box was wooden and her knees were jammed up against her breasts. The air was so thin that every breath was painful. Tears swam in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

  Her hands were still tied, but this time they were tucked in front of her legs. The wood smelled dank, half rotten and it made her want to gag. She rubbed her wrists against her legs, trying to stretch the rope enough to pull her hands through. It was so dark she couldn’t tell when her eyes were open or closed. She tried to wiggle forward and her nose hit the top of the box.

  “Help!” Hannah expected one of her kidnappers to thump on the box. She worried that they might open it and hurt her. Silence ruled the darkness.

  She worked frantically at the binds and planned her escape which was not at all easy to do without the variables. Hannah decided that knife or not, when that lid opened, she would throw herself out with everything she had. Even if they killed her, at least she would know she tried to escape. A brief thought flicked and Hannah wondered if she would be so cavalier about death if she wasn’t already diagnosed with one of the dreaded cancers.

  No matter how she moved the ropes, she couldn’t get her hands free. She was well and truly
trapped. When the lid finally opened, Hannah’s limbs had fallen asleep. She couldn’t lift her arm, let alone punch anyone. They hauled her out into a tiny cell with an iron gate that slid open and shut.

  The room was entirely made of concrete and reminded Hannah of a jail cell. In the corner stood a toilet with a chipped tank lid and a standalone sink while in the other corner was a bed without a headboard that had faded sheets and a mustard yellow blanket with huge lint balls.

  Her captors carried the coffin box to the center of the room and when they set Hannah on her feet, she pitched forward, her legs unable to sustain her weight. Scarface laughed at her. His voice grated on her nerves, but Hannah was in no condition to fight back.

  A shadowy figure watched from outside the cell while the two carried the empty coffin box out. They returned, lifting her from the ground and onto the bed. The geeky kid removed the ropes from her hands. She rubbed her tingling arms to get the circulation back. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t trust herself to

  “Bring in the camera,” said the shadowy figure who stepped into the light of the cell.

  He was beautiful with sculpted cheekbones, black hair, and brown eyes. He wore a tailored suit with a jacket, but no tie, the collar open. Hannah could imagine him laughing at a dinner party. That was what made this man so scary. He could totally exist in the regular world and no one would ever think him a kidnapper.

  Geek-guy brought in a video camera and a pristine paper which he handed to Hannah. She read it quietly while he set up the tripod.

  “You think some random stranger is going to give you some priceless bit of information for me?” Hannah scoffed at the idea.

  “Drake will. Are we ready? I have a meeting.” The man seemed so cavalier, so certain of himself and his fate.

  “Ready, sir.” Geek-guy adjusted a few dials on the camera and then said to Hannah, “Read that aloud.”

 

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