Intensity

by C. C. Koen

  Jax crashed through a door at the opposite end, forcing my head to pop up from my hunched over position.

  “Rick, let her go.”

  “No can do, J.”

  “Come on man, she’s no problem. Serena, come here,” he called out with exasperation, waving his hand and slapping it against his side like the puppy he’d been training hadn’t listened to his command.

  My height and combined muscle from jogging every day had its advantages at times. But no matter how hard I twisted and jerked the outcome remained the same, a pitiful result even though I used my full body weight. The goon attached to me like a monkey on my back had his own solid mass, outweighing me by at least a hundred pounds and anchoring me to the spot.

  Alright, Serena, think.

  In a blink, Sal and Linc appeared, apparitions materializing in the distance, but too remote to cast a spell on the evildoer who held me in captivity.

  “Serena,” Linc yelled, taking off in a full-out run and charging toward me. A slower and shorter Sal trailed behind him.

  The stabbing pressure on my back released, and in that instant my view shifted from a crazed Linc to the gun next to my ear, pointing right at him.

  My brain, overwrought from the intense situation and exorbitant amounts of stress, splintered from rational thought, and in a split second I threw myself on Rick. Momentum, gravity, and forces unknown took hold, both of us caught in an unfortunate game of chicken. My side—unbalanced and steering empty-handed. Rick’s—laying on the gun power.

  Fire ignited. The impact so jarring the implosion crumpled me to the ground, smacking my forehead into the cracked and crumbled cement. Hands and arms spread out, scraping flesh, I cushioned some of the blow.

  Rick gone. Jax rolled me over, tore off his shirt, and pushed it down on my right side, knocking my gasping breaths out of me. Linc hauled me into his arms and dashed off at break- neck speed. His furtive glances and quick examinations assessed the damage while he hightailed it out of there. Sweat poured off him as he darted down one street and another. My aching head slipped off his shoulder, propelling my immobile weight backward and suspending my neck at an awkward angle that swayed with each stomp.

  Linc propped open the back hatch and my body slid off his knee, rocking me from my stupor. He crawled inside, carrying me in his arms. My head cradled in his lap, he tossed his sweat-stained shirt off too. The force he used and the immense pressure building inside me drove my shallow breaths out in a gush again. His blurry eyes scrutinized and inspected every scrape, each bruise, and the bloody, gaping hole.

  Jax and Sal hopped in the front of the SUV and sped us away. Linc barking orders, while Jax and Sal shouted, “How’s she doing?” “How bad?”

  Transcendent effects happened not right away, but gradually. Body and mind separated, taking independent journeys, undisclosed and concealed from the other. Hazy blue eyes faded out, then in, and out again.

  Memories flickered like a silent movie Kinetoscope, one flashback to the next.

  The first encounter: the office—meeting Linc—a new job. Fate’s bearing encouraging, “Yes, this is the way.”

  The sailboat: a changing tide—sharing beliefs, exposing a little bit about ourselves—destiny bringing two searching souls together.

  The unsurpassable consummation: making love surrounded by nature—an unforeseen union—dream made reality.

  Linc’s soft but insistent lips kissed…

  my temple,

  my eyelids,

  my cheeks,

  my lips.

  Cleansing each with heart-wrenching tears.

  Don’t cry, Linc.

  Everything will be…

  In a sterile room, slumped in a hard-back chair, a defeated man sat frozen in an endless, tortured stare.

  “Boss, why don’t you go home for a while? I’ll stay,” Sal appealed, setting a discomfited hand on Linc’s shoulder.

  “Don’t.” Linc’s gaze remained on the lifeless form in the hospital bed.

  Sal shifted closer, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s been two weeks. Go home, get a shower, change clothes and come back.”

  Linc buried his head in the stiff mattress, holding the motionless hand. “Go away,” he growled.

  Sal glanced at Serena’s pale face and whispered, “Okay, boss.”

  Not long after, a nurse followed by a doctor entered, positioning themselves on each side. “Mr. Jefferson.”

  Linc gradually picked up his head, wet bloodshot eyes glaring at the intrusion.

  “We have to take her for some tests now.”

  Linc stood and leaned over, kissing her temple, eyelids, cheeks, and lips. He whispered in her ear, “I’ll be back,” and pressed her limp hand to his lips before exiting.

  A book in one hand and the other caressing Serena’s, Linc read her favorite stories aloud for hours each day. His inflections deepened by his heartfelt tone, emphasizing each word with tender loving care.

  The rapid knock had Linc looking up at the opening door.

  “How is she?” Jax sat down on the opposite side, concern in his voice.

  “The same.” He indexed the page he just finished and set the novel on the bed.

  Jax’s gaze scanned Serena. “How you doing?”

  Linc stroked her hand, staring at the wall without answering.

  “Doc give you any updates?”

  Linc whispered, “She needs time…” Closing his eyes he added, “to heal.”

  “Why don’t you get out of here? You eat anything?”

  No comment.

  Jax sighed. “She’ll need you strong when she wakes up.” He stood. “Focus on that. Not the past.”

  Linc darted a scowl at Jax and roared, “I should have protected her. She wouldn’t have come after us if I’d given her more information. Told her there wasn’t anything to worry about,” and then he directed an insistent wake-up gaze on Serena.

  “Come on, man, listen to yourself…look at me,” Jax insisted, using a stubborn, knock-sense-into-you attitude.

  Linc did, his pointed stare shooting bullets.

  “It was Mylaynee. They had each other’s back from the get-go. No matter what you said or wanted it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  After the rant, Linc turned his weary eyes to the soundless body.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Jax jerked his chin toward the bed. “If you need anything…” the offer trailed behind him.

  “We miss you, Serena. Paulette bought the movies you’ve been wanting to see. She said we can’t watch them until you come home.” Mylaynee shifted in the plastic chair and pulled Serena’s motionless hand up to her cheek. “Best Buddies is having a dance in a few weeks. Robby said you’d save him a dance. That’s all he talks about. They’re waiting for you too, Serena.”

  She reached into her purse and set a bundled stack on the bed. “I brought cards from the nursing home. They all send their best wishes. Mrs. Wainwright’s card is the funniest. It has two old ladies on the front with dentures in their hands. It says, ‘We’re speechless without you. Get well soon.’ I couldn’t stop laughing. There’s more too.” She read every one aloud. “I’m going to put these on the counter, so when you wake up you’ll see them. They miss you too.

  “We went to the animal shelter the other day. Fallon wants a puppy so bad.” She glanced at Linc. His eyes fixed to the place they’d been all along. “I wouldn’t mind a kitten. You should see them. I bet if you woke up, Linc would let you have one.”

  She scooted the wobbly chair closer and squeezed the weightless hand tighter. “I read those books you gave me. I liked the one about the boxer who fell in love with his female trainer. Smokin’ hot, girlfriend. Bet you I get the next one in the series first. I just bought the same e-reader you have too. You’re already listed in the contacts. Gotta wake up so I can dive into that thousand-plus collection you have. I got a lot of catching up to do.”

  After a brief chuckle, she said, “We could start a ‘Book Babes’ club. With
your paperbacks and e-books, you’d keep us reading for years. The girls would drool over your erotica for sure. We might never sleep.”

  She redirected her gaze across the bed at the lone man. “Linc brought the good ones. I think he has a secret fetish for your stash. I’m warning you, girl. He’s gonna want you to read to him before bed.” She watched him for a reaction. The immobile figure didn’t flinch. His only movement, a thumb caressing Serena’s hand and his eyes searching her face.

  “Maybe I should bring coffee. You crave it so much, I bet the smell would wake you up. Serena, your man’s losing weight. At least ten pounds. You wouldn’t want him wasting away, would you?”

  She placed her hand on his. “Linc…” squeezing it, “can I bring you something to eat?”

  Without looking at her, he answered by shifting his bearded chin left then right.

  She stood and kissed Serena’s cold cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered in her ear, “It’s time, my dear friend…” On a choked sigh she pleaded, “Wake up. Linc’s waiting for you, honey. He hasn’t left your side. Needs you, sweetie. Please wake up for him, okay?” The fervent appeals trailed along with her overflowing tears.

  She gave Linc an awkward one-arm hug. His face turned in the opposite direction, she couldn’t see the moisture in his eyes or the tears dripping off his trembling chin.

  Her departure and sentiments stirred the solemn being. He rose from his seat, and with gentle care, he enfolded Serena in his loving arms and whispered the wish engraved upon his heart and soul. The one envisioned at first sight, when her brilliant and magnificent light captured his enigmatic, tormented spirit.

  Darkness and nothingness transformed to awareness—a familiar and favorite story, often read before bedtime, registered.

  The maiden Madeline gathered berries in her apron-skirt, eating them along the way. Tired from the long walk, her legs dragged and kicked up dirt-filled dust that covered her cowhide shoes. A horse’s snort brought her gaze upward from the log blocking her path.

  Silver tassels braided in the mane covered its withers, extending to girth. Sure footed the white stallion stood at attention outside her straw hut. Unsure who the beauty belonged to, she hesitated with each step. Out of the corner of her eye, a blurry vision came into view. A Viking warrior in body armor stumbled toward her and collapsed at her feet…

  “Fair Maiden, help me,” he gasped…

  A man’s voice: poignant, summoning.

  Pain and pressure diminished, replaced with warmth, emanating through my toes, legs, chest, and head—granting exodus. A delicate caress and strong grasp bid me to join in, infusing me with its intense presence and beckoning my mind and body—to rouse.

  Consciousness came. Heedful to comply to fate’s whispered call.

  A vision emerged—a man with long black hair covering his massive shoulders and a scruffy beard lining his jaw, reciting the tale from a book in his lap. Mesmerized by his tone, I listened as he relayed the beauty of the love story—two strangers brought together—fate’s affirmation.

  Memories flickered, one flashback to the next, compelling me to respond. His thumb rubbing my hand was returned when I swiped mine across his knuckle, delivering a voluntary and hard-fought communication.

  Blue, hazy eyes darted to mine. Book forgotten, Linc rose, gasping, “Serena.” He captured my face in his hands and pressed his warm lips to my temple, eyelids, cheeks, and mouth. “You came back to me…” He drew in a ragged breath and announced, “I missed you. I…” He advanced once again, the kiss tender and full of devotion. He rested his temple on mine. “I’ve been waiting so long for you.”

  I wiggled my toes, shifted my legs, and squeezed my hands open and closed, loosening my limbs. “What happened?” My dry throat made the gruff plea burn in my mouth.

  Instead of answering, he punched a button on the wall. When a reply came, Linc implored, “We need a doctor. She’s awake.”

  The Fab Five swarmed into my hospital room and took over, giving Linc a much-needed reprieve. Their amped-up estrogen consuming the cramped space might’ve been a contributing factor too. Uncontained chit-chatter updated me on anything and everything I missed the past two weeks. The only break in conversation came when a loud knock demanded it.

  An electrical charge of a different kind revved up the room when the stranger entered. Instead of focusing on his face like everyone else, my eyes got stuck on the shiny badge clipped to a belt on his low-riding jeans. “Miss Thomas,” he called out, which brought my stare up to his whisky-brown eyes. Presented with a smorgasbord and too many options to choose from, his keen focus shifted from me to Fallon, Sage, and Paulette, devouring them at a leisurely pace. “Ladies, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Detective Collins.” His down-in-the-gutter gritty tone had the entire room swooning, pleasing the female crowd with an eye-scanning introduction that said, I’d like your name and measurements. When he got to Mylaynee, his visual appetite feasted as if capsized on a deserted island without an ounce of nourishment. “Miss Johanson, nice to see you again.”

  Interesting.

  Mylaynee, protector of all and guardian angel, swooped in, blocking my view.

  I shifted around her blockade, from one side to the other, watching the detective amble in a cocky hip swagger from one to the next, greeting each of them with another visual body search and unhurried handshake.

  Instead of following suit, Mylaynee crossed her arms and repositioned her body in my direct line of sight, again. “This isn’t a good time,” the mother bear growled with hands clenched at her elbows, digging two-inch nails into her flesh. “You got my report, Jax and Linc too. She can’t tell you anything more than we did.”

  He propped an elbow in one hand and stroked the stubble at the corner of his mouth, drawing attention to his supple lips and every word that came out of them. “That may be, but she’s the injured party and I need to question her.”

  Mylaynee opened her mouth to reply, but he took a step and leaned over her, considering me. All cockiness and swagger aside, he asked with kindness and a sympathetic assessment, “Miss Thomas, I put it off as long as I could. Your doctor gave the okay since you’ve been up and walking around the past five days. Could we talk a few minutes?”

  Linc came barreling through the door, redirecting everyone’s attention, including the detective’s. Faster than I’d ever seen them move before, a mass round of hugs and goodbyes took place, leaving three behind.

  “Linc, it’s good to see you under better circumstances.” The officer’s informal greeting had me swiping glances between them.

  In a protective stance, hand-in-hand at my side, Linc squeezed my palm and reprimanded the cop. “You should’ve called me.”

  “Want to let me do my job?” He jerked his chin toward Linc, giving as good as he got. “I’ll let you stay if you keep your cool. Can you do that?”

  “Fuck you, Reese.” Shocked by his sharp quip, I yanked on his hand. He glanced down, and I shook my head, trying to get him shut up. Regardless of whether they knew each other or not, I didn’t want him arrested.

  Instead the detective laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Miss Thomas, what do you say?”

  “Serena, you don’t have to do this now.”

  Ping-ponging between these two was getting on my nerves. “I’m good.” I turned onto my side to address the visitor head on, adjusting my body higher to relieve some of the numbness in my legs. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He nodded, pulled out a notepad, and began the interrogation.

  At every prompt Linc tensed and with each reply he squeezed my hand, a supportive gesture and a constant reminder of his presence. Like I could forget, since he refused to remain silent, trying my patience, and if the pinched lips and perturbed glares the detective shot him were any indication, I’d say he felt the same.

  Most details of that night were fuzzy, so I couldn’t relay much. According to Mylaynee and verified during questioning, Rick still hadn’t be
en caught. The police weren’t giving up and from what little Linc shared with me earlier, neither was Jax. The events could’ve been a lot worse. I was grateful Mylaynee hadn’t been hurt. From the account she provided, Rick had her bound and gagged in the warehouse but unharmed. On the way to the hospital, Jax got a security team to scour the area they had to rush out of, because of me. When I thought about the disastrous result and the additional problems my presence could have cost, I felt like shooting me too. If I had caused anyone to be injured other than myself, I don’t know how I would have lived with it. My “new” family meant a great deal to me, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them.

  Later, when it was just the two of us, Linc climbed into bed, hauled me onto his lap and read to me. Instead of a novel, he recited in a mellow, affecting tone classic poetry from an anthology that had a worn and well-loved cover. The inscription on the first page was written by a devoted mother to her cherished son.

  Lincoln,

  My soul’s first embrace, cradled you with tender loving care.

  My heart entwined to yours, enlivened from beat one.

  My love transcends eternity, a guiding star enlightening the darkness.

  May your soul nurture.

  May your heart treasure.

  May your love inspire.

  My fingers traced each phrase, admiring the woman, and the adoration expressed, wishing I could have met her. Cuddled to his side, my head nestled on his shoulder, he recited each poem with his lips pressed to my temple. Every one of his fortifying breaths and inspirational stanzas revitalized my spirit, while his determined stronghold worshipped, cherished, and enlivened. Just as his mother had wished.