Charity's Warrior

Home > Nonfiction > Charity's Warrior > Page 25
Charity's Warrior Page 25

by Unknown


  "I'm so glad for you Justin. You've finally seen what you've been missing," Lena said softly.

  I can picture her standing next to him as he sits in some barely comfortable hospital chair. She has one of her strong hands on his shoulder, and they're staring at me, trying to smile, while they hope I do something, blink an eye, anything. And I really wish I could give them that comfort.

  After a long silence, Justin asks, "Her ex?"

  "Still alive, like you ordered. He's secure, not going anywhere," Lena answered. "You sure you don't want us to get rid of him? You won't leave her side, but you don't know how long this could take. Maybe you should let us handle it so you can forget about that part? We can make it as painful as you want?"

  "No," Justin growled, not a single pinch of doubt in his voice. "He's mine. When I think about what he did to her...I'm going to rip him apart of my own bare hands. I don't care if he has to wait days or weeks. Nobody hurts my Charity like that and leaves this world without suffering. What would you do Lena, if that was the love of your life laying there?"

  Lena's voice came out soft and understanding. "You're right. We'll keep him until you come. But you need to be prepared—this guy's so far off his rocker he doesn't know what a rocker is. He won't care that you're hurting him; all he wants to do is kill her and then himself. He keeps screaming that they have to go together."

  I'm struggling now, desperately, to give them a sign, to tell Justin what I want him to do, but it seems hopeless. I have no voice in this endless nothing, but I am being consumed with fear and anger.

  There must be a way.

  "He'll care about himself more once I start," Justin said flatly.

  "I know," Lena responded, "I've seen you do it. I'll just feel better for Charity—for both of you—when this guy doesn't exist anymore. It's not safe for her the longer he lives. We've dealt with some really bad people before, but this guy is certifiable. I get the creeps around him."

  I try to remember what it feels like to speak. I can't feel myself, my face, my lips or tongue, but I think if I just try, if I go through the motions, maybe it can work.

  Nothing happens. I try harder, I try screaming.

  Nothing.

  I'm more frustrated right now than I am afraid. My body refuses to obey me.

  One more time, I try, putting everything into it. When it still doesn't work, my rage becomes uncontrollable and I lash out, punching my fist at the blackness.

  "She just moved," Justin whispered excitedly.

  "I didn't see anything," Lena said, obviously not wanting him to be let down.

  "No," Justin snapped. "She did. Her finger, she raised it and dropped it back to the bed."

  Holy shit! He saw me!

  "Babe, whatever you did, can you do it again?" Justin begged me.

  I'm so excited. I concentrate on my fingers. I imagine lifting them and wait to hear his reaction.

  "Come on, Babe. You can do this," he said.

  It isn't working.

  Something is different. Last time I was not trying to wiggle my fingers—I was punching.

  I swing my arm in a wide haymaker.

  "Son of a bitch," Lena breathed. "She did it. I'll get the doctor!"

  I begin punching over and over, imagining my finger bouncing for attention.

  "Wait!" Justin ordered. "Charity, once for yes, two for no. Can we get the doctor?"

  Two punches. It was odd communicating this way, like I had been rewired wrong.

  "Okay, you want us to stay," he said.

  It wasn't a question, but I punched twice anyway.

  "No?" Justin asked, confused.

  "You want us to go, but not for the doctor, for something else?" Lena asked.

  One punch. It was getting easier.

  Now I just had to figure out how to tell them to go kill Steve.

  "Something from your apartment?" Justin guessed.

  I shook my head by accident, instinct.

  "That's good, Charity, can you nod for yes?" Lena asked.

  I tried it, and they reacted. It was getting easier with each moment, but I am being drained, too. I'm so tired already. My mind wants to drift.

  "You want us to do something for you, right?" Justin asked patiently.

  I nodded for him as their voices drifted further back into the darkness. My limit has come quickly. While my brain quickly relearns all of its motor skills it is using all of the energy I have. I want it done before I wake up again. I don't want to have to ask for it again, when I might not have the courage to tell them to do what needs to be done.

  I concentrated and made my mouth work. "Steve," I whispered.

  "You want to know if he's okay?" Justin asked, doing his best for me to hide his anger and contempt.

  I shook my head no.

  "You heard us," Lena said. "You heard us talking, and you want Justin to take care of it now?"

  I nodded. I'm letting go now, going back into the comfortable darkness until I have more strength.

  FOR THE NEXT FIVE or six days there we're only minimal changes. For the first few, I would wake up into the blackness, wiggle a few fingers and say a couple words. Then I was back out from the exhaustion. We we're all a little concerned about my sight at that point, it was a very real possibility that I could be permanently blind.

  Two days later my eyes opened and I begin seeing shapes and contrasts. The next day I was finally able to see his gorgeous face, a glimpse of that strong jaw and beautiful green eyes.

  When I asked, Justin confirmed for me that Steve was no longer something to be afraid of. I didn't ask for details, and he didn't offer any. I cried for a minute, not because it was a mistake, only for the old Steve and his family.

  I think Justin understood.

  Every time I awoke, Justin was there taking care of me. I don't know when he slept, or ate, or anything. Around the third or fourth day of me being able to stay awake for more than ten minutes, he told me about my family. A few days without hearing from me was normal, but now my cellphone was starting to explode with texts and missed calls.

  They didn't know a thing, and I had a choice to make. I could keep them out of it, or I could tell them and have them come to help. He had the hospital under control—his words—but if I told my family, some of the secrets would come out. It could be a difficult time, but he would stand by my choice, and my side, no matter what.

  That day I called them and explained everything to them, that I've been fine, busy at work, how my phone had gotten damaged when I dropped it, and it took a bit to have it replaced.

  They were relieved by my lie.

  Today I woke up to Justin fixing my hair. He asked me how I was feeling and we talked until we realized I should have fallen back to sleep. It wasn't overly exiting at first, each day I was around a few more minutes than the last, but a half an hour later Justin was asking the nurse to call my doctor, just to check. I settled back for the long wait for the doctor, where I would probably fall asleep before he showed. They were never right there when you needed them.

  As I was learning, when Justin asks for something—it happens. The doctor was there in twenty minutes, apologizing for the drive taking so long.

  It was time for Justin to start telling me what the hell is going on—just who the hell he is. The doctor raced here on his command, and looks absolutely terrified. Who has that kind of power?

  Doctor Cooper, a frumpy, bulldog like man, took me through a few tests and checks, shining lights in my eyes and ears. He had me pushing my hands against his, crossing my eyes and touching my nose. It all seemed like bullshit until he wanted me to move my feet and push against him. My feet moved fine, toes wiggling. When he took my foot in his hands and told me to resist against him, I couldn't do it.

  Both of them saw the fear on my face. I could see it on Justin as well.

  "What does that mean?" I asked, my voice shaky and unsure.

  "Nothing yet," Doctor Cooper said. "A few days ago you were blind. A couple days before t
hat you were in a coma. I'm not surprised we found some limitation, I'm more surprised that you passed so many of the tests."

  Justin relaxed, and I try to do the same, ignoring my stomach as it flipped and turned.

  "Give yourself some time, Charity," Doctor Cooper said. "We'll keep an eye on it, but it's not time to worry."

  He gave me some exercises to do in the bed and reminded me not to get upset if I got tired soon or found some other things I couldn't do. It was going to take some time, and maybe some physical therapy. Doctor Cooper explains my injuries to me in detail now that I am conscious long enough to listen, and strong enough to hear it.

  This is the first time anyone gives me details about the bandage on my head. No one knew just how hard I hit the rear window when the car flipped, until there were serious complications in the emergency room. They had to drill through my skull to release the pressure and save my life.

  I vaguely remember Justin and Lena talking about that when I first began waking up. That explains why Justin now grabs my hand and is holding it tightly.

  I look up at him reassuringly. "Justin, if you didn't stop the car right then, I would not have survived."

  "That's very true," Doctor Cooper agreed. "Your lung was damaged and full of blood, but the bullet had also nicked an artery. The internal bleeding was extensive. Even with your helicopter and the hospital letting you land it on the roof; I'd say you guys only had another five minutes to get here. If things didn't transpire exactly as they had, you would have been DOA."

  "See," I said to Justin. "Do you enjoy making me happy?"

  "Of course," he replied.

  I squeezed his hand back. "It would make me very happy if you understood that you were my hero before, and even more so now."

  The two men looked at each other.

  "Wow!" Doctor Cooper exclaimed. "She's really good."

  Justin laughed unexpectedly. "That's my Warrior," he said.

  Doctor Cooper left us alone. He was barely gone when I turned to Justin and gave him a look. The room was eerily silent.

  "It's time to start explaining things, isn't it?" Justin asked.

  "Yes it is," I replied.

  He let go of my hand and sat back in his chair. “You know there's going to be parts of this that you do not like, that you're really not going to want to hear."

  I nodded that I understood, trying to brace myself.

  "Before I tell you any of it," he said, "I need you to understand something. Everything I feel for you is very real. I never expected any of this, to meet you, to fall in love; it was never going to happen for me. Beginning the moment I laid eyes on you, before I helped you that first time, you changed my life, changed me. I will never be the same. Nothing I've done was meant to be malicious or hurtful. Every lie began with the need to protect you or some of the others close to me, like Lena."

  "I believe that," I said to him honestly. And I did. If he was anything, it was protective.

  "But I abused the advantage I had. That's the part I'm not so sure you will forgive me for," his said in a cracked voice. "It was selfish of me, and I need you to know, before I tell you about it, that I know how wrong it was, and that the only reason I have for it is my insatiable need to see you. You have a power over me that I don't understand, that I have no control for. I am completely under your spell, Charity, and what I did was only because I cannot see you enough, I cannot go a day without your smile. I've tried, and failed."

  I'm worried and flattered at the same time. I've never had anyone confess an infatuation for me, but I can't say that I don't feel the same.

  He continued, "Remember that, as you hear everything. It was all because I desire you so much and all the things I do—I am willing to give them all up for you. I will walk away and leave it all behind if you ask."

  "Justin, enough with the explanations. You need to start talking, I need to know what the hell you're talking about, what the hell is happening. I know how you feel, but how I react is not something you can control," I said to him.

  He took a deep breath. "I have to figure out where to start."

  "Start with the obvious," I demanded. "You're not some insurance agent like you told me you were?"

  "Insurance is a play on words; it's what my entire team tells everyone as a cover. It's an easy lie because it's not entirely a lie. We are providing insurance to our clients; it's physical, not financial insurance. Because each of my team understand this, it's easy for them to say it convincingly. I was already in love with you when I told you that, and I should have been honest, but we don't say this just to protect ourselves. I could have told you the truth and not worried about myself and the consequences, but then what about Lena and the others?" Justin asked.

  "I get it," I said. And I do get it. "I'm not going to hurt you, or any of them, especially not Lena, so tell me what you really are. I saw what you are capable of, but I don't know how you use that, who you work for and who you go after. Are you the Jackal, or are you Robin Hood?"

  "Both. And neither," he said. "What you really want to know is, do we hurt or kill innocent people."

  I nodded softly.

  "No, there's a reason for us to go after everyone on our lists. You would have to be involved in something to warrant it. But I won't bullshit you, some of the people that hire us are just as bad as the people we go after. We go where the money is," Justin said truthfully. "We investigate every case, so we know all the players and possibilities. It's to keep us safe, and also to protect innocent people. We would never take a case to kill a spouse to save alimony, for example, and our clients know better than to ask."

  "Have you ever lost a team member, or been shot?" I asked, trying to understand how dangerous it was.

  "We've never lost anyone, but a couple of us have been shot, including me. I took a stray bullet to my calf," he said, subconsciously dropping his eyes toward his right leg.

  Now he has the stitches in his head, too. They look ready to come out now, actually.

  "So why are some people afraid of you, like Doctor Cooper? Does he know what you do?" I asked.

  "He's afraid of me, but not why you think," Justin answered.

  I didn't understand that exactly.

  "To do what we do, there are certain things we need to have, so I've been very selective in my arrangements and investments," he explained. "It's not all guns and spy kits. I own a used car dealership in Jersey City so we can grab or hide a car whenever we need. I have several logistics companies for easily smuggling our supplies in. This hospital's owners needed our services, and we needed a safe place to go when one of us is hurt, so my name is listed next to theirs on the hospital's board. Doctor Cooper is afraid of me mostly because I'm his boss—I pay his check as far as he knows, so when I ask for something, I get it. They know not to ask questions."

  "That makes sense," I said. "If you've acquired so many investments, why do you keep on doing the dangerous stuff?"

  Justin smiles a little. It makes my pulse race. "Getting out is almost as hard as getting in. Not everything our hands are in is for money. The hospital, for instance, I don't take a dime out of it, on paper yes, but that goes back to my partners on the board—that's the deal. I make sure I keep my clients under control, I make clients that are enemies with each other, so they don't expose me, but we all know they could cause as much trouble for us as I could for them. We keep each other in line. We were never designed to get out of the business. It can't be closed; it will have to be passed to someone on the team. And right now the only one ready, the only one I trust, doesn't want the job."

  "Lena?" I ask.

  Justin nods.

  "Why doesn't she want it?" I questioned.

  He shrugs his shoulders, not that he doesn't know; his body says that the answer is too simple.

  "She started it with me, and she wants to end with me. The only reason she's still doing it is because I am," he said.

  I know I shouldn't be, but so far I am only more turned on by Justin. Afte
r my rescue, it was already obvious what Justin was involved in. Nothing he'd said so far was a shock, if anything it was better than I had envisioned. The power he has at his fingertips—I just wanna fuck him on my hospital bed!

  If only my legs were working so I could wrap them around him!

  If they were, I'd climb off this bed and pull his cock out of his pants and suck him off. My legs aren't working, but my pussy is fine, sending its twitches into my body and getting me wet.

  I wasn't going to tell him any of this. No way was I doing anything with him until I had a bath. I feel as disgusting as you would expect after so many days in a bed. It just didn't hurt to think about his hard cock in me while his loving hands touch me everywhere.

  He hasn't said anything for a few minutes.

  "Is that everything?" I ask. "Because when I heard you talking with Lena, it sounded like there was much more to it. I want to know everything now, all of it."

  Justin shook his head, and my stomach churned again.

  "Lena doesn't know you like I do. What I just told you was the part she was worried about. I think she was concerned more about that because it affects her and the team directly," he replied.

  All thoughts of Justin's gorgeous, naked body climbing onto me and humping my troubles away are gone. There is more to talk about, and he'd saved the worst for last. There was something worse than telling me he was the lead of an illegal team of espionage agents and assassins.

  My voice is low and scared. "What else is there, Justin? Is this where you tell me that's not even your real name?"

  He grew physically uncomfortable, rocking in the chair. His emotions are about to tear him apart. If I wasn't so terrified for myself right now, my heart would be breaking for him.

  "No," he said at last, "Justin is my real name...and Paul is my middle name. Justin Paul Collins."

  He didn't say anything else, waiting for me to understand. His eyes told me to put it together. It took a minute longer than it should have.

  My anger erupted. "You bastard!" I breathed, fighting the tears of humiliation.

  "Charity, I'm so sorry—"

  "Fuck you, Justin! I get the lie about what you do, but you had no reason to lie to me about this. This was just sick. Was it funny to you, is that your thing?"

 

‹ Prev