Runner's Moon: Jebaral

by Linda Mooney

  That was how he had known she was in danger, despite the fact his human skin shielded his blood lines from view. Her fear had covered him like a freezing wet blanket, and his vision had blurred red. Because there was no phone in the bungalow they shared, he had called the motel office, hoping he could reach Mrs. Newburg so she could go check on Hannah.

  His relief at being able to talk to Hannah personally had been immeasurable—until she told him Carl had come to town. That Carl had seen her, and now knew where she was living. At that moment Jeb had felt his protective instincts open like an umbrella.

  Thank the stars Mr. Mallon had understood Jeb’s need to get back to town. Apparently his cousin had let him in on the town gossip, or else he wouldn’t have given Jeb the clear order to, “Make sure she’s safe. And don’t let him get his hands on her again.”

  Mill Road was wide and well-traveled. Jeb made the normally fifteen minute drive in ten, with the truck’s tires squealing in protest as he turned the corner at the changing light at the intersection leading into town.

  As he approached the motor lodge he could already see the sheriff’s car parked at an angle to the brown pickup sitting in front of the office. Jeb brought his truck around and braked to a shuddering halt on the opposite side.

  They were all standing outside the office. Carl’s protests continued to ring in the early afternoon sunshine, but the deputy who had handcuffed him and who was now holding him by the arm was barely holding back his own anger.

  Hannah stood in the background, shielded by Mrs. Newburg. She was looking for him when he came around the corner, and a spark of joy ignited inside him to realize she had known when he had arrived. She rushed into his arms before he could say her name. At that same instant, Carl tried to lunge at him.

  “That’s him! That’s the son of a bitch who kidnapped her! Why don’t you cuff him, you piece of shit!”

  The deputy’s face grew darker. “I think I’ve heard enough from you. It’s time we took a little ride down to the station.”

  Hannah’s body was trembling so hard she could barely stand. Jeb brushed her hair back from her tear-stained face and asked, “What happened?”

  It was Mrs. Newburg who answered him. “This fella tried to break down the door to my office.”

  “That’s attempted B and E,” the officer announced with a hefty grin. “You got more than fifty bucks in the till, don’t you, Wendy?”

  “Sure do!”

  “Add attempted felony theft,” the deputy snapped.

  “When I wouldn’t let him in, he started screaming for Hannah to come outside. Started pleading with her to talk. He just wanted to talk.” Mrs. Newburg made a gesture toward Hannah. “I told him no way ‘cause I knew he was going to do something bad to her if she did.”

  “Like kidnapping?” the deputy suggested.

  “Or beat her up again like he did the last time. Look at her face!”

  The officer whose nameplate read STILES, P. gave a nod in Hannah’s direction. “Is this the man who did that to your face?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was soft but firm. Her grip tightened around Jeb’s waist. She knew she was safe now.

  “Kidnapping’s a felony in this state if you add assault and battery.” Stiles grinned.

  “I didn’t hit her, you moron!” Carl hollered, spit flying. “I haven’t touched her!”

  “Go on, Mrs. Newburg,” Jeb ordered in a controlled voice. It was taking every ounce of control he had not to throw a roundhouse punch into the man’s face to shut him up. Instead he kept his fists clenched against Hannah’s back and pressed her tighter against him. Still, there was some satisfaction in seeing the man’s hand wrapped in a dark blue cast.

  “Anyway, like I was saying, he tried to sweet-talk Hannah into coming outside, but I wouldn’t let her. Then he yelled and screamed profanity to try and scare her into coming out.” Mrs. Newburg went tight-lipped at the memory. “Bastard said he would torch my place if I didn’t let her see him.”

  “Attempted arson.” Stiles added. Jeb figured he was taking mental notes. If the additional pressure the deputy put on the man’s biceps caused Carl any discomfort, too bad. “Is that when he tried to break his way in?” Stiles asked.

  The motel owner nodded. “Yep. That’s when he went back to his truck and got his tire iron, and when he smashed the window to the front door.”

  Jeb turned his head to spot the broken door to the office. The tire iron lay on the ground nearby. Glass shards lay among the pea gravel like glistening raindrops.

  “Destruction of property,” Stiles noted, still smiling.

  Mrs. Newburg looked up at Jeb. “That’s when Philip drove up. Caught him red-handed. Cuffed him right then and there, and then you showed up,” she concluded. Jeb noticed she, too, was wearing a smug smile of satisfaction.

  Jeb started to ask another question but the sound of a second sheriff’s car pulling onto the gravel parking lot distracted them. This time it was the sheriff who joined them. The older man had a weathered face, but his eyes were sharp. He took in the scene, read it, then softly ordered the deputy, “Why don’t you take this guy down to the jailhouse and give him some time to cool his heels? After I get these people’s statements, I’ll be over to book him.”

  The comment was too much for Carl, who had remained silently stewing throughout the entire process. “I didn’t do nothin’ to her!” he yelled, fighting the deputy’s iron grasp on his arm as he was half-dragged toward the patrol car. “Hannah! Hannah, you cunt! You’ll pay for this! You and that boyfriend of yours! You’re mine, do you hear me? Mine!”

  He continued to struggle against the inevitable. “That cocksucker broke my hand! He broke my fuckin’ hand! Ain’t you gonna arrest him for battery?” He tried to say more but closing the car door effectively muffled his diatribe. They watched as the man tried to beat against the door and window in a vain attempt to escape.

  Sheriff Klotsky sighed wearily as he turned back to Hannah. “You okay, young lady?”

  “Yeah. Just … frightened.”

  “And he’s not your husband?”

  “No!” she snapped suddenly with heat. “If he says so, he’s lying. Make him produce a license. You’ll see.”

  Jeb could see the man’s eyes taking in the fading bruises. Suddenly the brown eyes locked with his. “Wanna give me the short end of it?”

  “I met Hannah five months ago at the diner in Laughlin where she was working. I knew from the start she was in an abusive relationship, but she feared leaving him. Last Friday when she didn’t go to work, her friend asked me to go over to her place and make sure she was okay. I had to break in to get to her, but I’m glad I did,” Jeb honestly admitted. “If you think this is bad, it was much worse when I found her. Much worse.”

  Klotsky paused, digesting what he heard. “Did you go to the hospital?”

  It was Hannah who stepped in. “I begged him not to take me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was afraid they would accuse Jeb, and I wouldn’t be awake to say differently.”

  The sheriff rubbed his chin. “So you came up here to Tumbril Harbor. Why?”

  “I used to work for B and A Construction,” Jeb told him.

  “Anson Bennetson’s firm?”

  “Yeah. He’s the one who told me about the mill here. Promised me a job if I ever came up this way.” Jeb gave a weak shrug. “I knew I had to get Hannah away from that prick, or he’d eventually kill her. I figured she would have a decent chance here.”

  “Did you break that man’s hand?”

  “Yes, I did. He took a swing at me, and I … swung back.”

  “Sounds like a clear case of self-defense.” Klotsky grinned with one side of his face. He tilted his head at Hannah. “I would suggest you put a restraining order on the boy. I can’t promise it’ll keep him away, but at least you’ll have something in your corner in case this thing has to go to court.”

  “He’s already on probation,” she told him.

>   “For assault?”

  She nodded. “He probably has some DUIs, too.”

  Sighing again, the sheriff scratched his chin. “This keeps gettin’ better and better. Okay. I’ll call Baine County and see what they got on the boy. What’s his full name again?”

  “Carl Presley Jamison.”

  “Right. In the meantime I’ll get the paperwork started on that restraining order. You can come down before we close at five and sign it.”

  “Will he be spending any time in lockup?” Jeb inquired.

  “At least twenty-four hours until we can get him duly processed. After that he’ll go see Judge Mays, and she’ll be the one to decide whether or not he gets to be a registered guest a while longer. Most likely she’ll set him free and tell him to get his butt outta town, and don’t come back.”

  “If she does, what’s to stop him from coming back here?” Mrs. Newburg asked.

  “Then that’s when you give me another call, Wendy.” He tipped the brim of his hat in their direction. “I’ll also have Jimmy’s Wrecker Service tow Mr. Jamison’s truck over to the impound lot. Just to be on the safe side, though, I’ll have one of my deputies keep an extra eye on this end of town if she releases our Mr. Jamison. Ma’am?” He gave Hannah a last look. “I’m sorry this guy managed to track you down. Let’s hope we can get this thing squared away before any further damage is done.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jeb told him in a dark, cold voice. “I’ll make sure he never hurts Hannah again.”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “You own a gun, son?”

  “No.”

  The man grunted in reply. Giving them a final salute, he got back into his car and drove away. No one spoke until the sheriff had disappeared from view.

  “I can get you another door at the hardware store,” Jeb said to the motel owner. “Won’t take me but half an hour, if that long, to put it on.”

  “It’s not your fault the man went psycho,” Mrs. Newburg protested. “I can call Jacob and have him bring a new one over and install it.” Giving them a shooing motion with her hands, she said, “Take Hannah home and put her to bed. She looks like she’s about ready to keel over.”

  Smiling, Jeb glanced down at the woman in his arms. Fortunately the color had come back to her face, but she still remained weak in the knees. “That sounds like an excellent idea. But if you won’t let me install a new door, at least let me pay for it.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me on that account.” Mrs. Newburg smiled warmly.

  Lifting Hannah into his arms, he waited until she had nestled her head along his neck and shoulder before carrying her to the other side of the motor lodge where their bungalow sat at the end of the row. He deliberately left his truck parked in front of the office on the off-chance that if Carl managed to escape doing additional time at the local jail and decided to return, at the least the truck wouldn’t point to the cabin where they were staying.

  Regardless, Jeb knew their troubles with the man were far from over.

  Chapter 18

  Answers

  Jeb lowered her legs long enough to unlock the cabin door, then lifted her back up against his chest to carry her the rest of the way inside. He kicked the door shut with his foot and started to lower her onto the bed when Hannah’s arms around his neck tightened.

  “No. Don’t let me go. Lay down with me for a few minutes, please?”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. They were both still struggling with how close Carl had come to taking Hannah away. More than likely harming her. Possibly turning the situation into a hostage situation. All the what-ifs continued to float in the background like ghosts, threatening and frightful.

  He stroked her back to help calm her. Or at least he hoped it would calm her. They hadn’t had enough time to fully explore each other’s bodies, to discover every nuance. Every ticklish spot. Each sensual patch of skin. Such pleasures would take weeks, maybe months to slowly explore. At the moment Jeb was going on pure instinct. He knew stroking the spinal plates on a Ruinos would calm a racing heart.

  It wasn’t long before Hannah’s sweet lemonade smell began to fill his lungs. She lifted her face, silently begging for his kiss. His lips descended upon hers, gently yet urgently. His hand came around to cup one of her full breasts, and he could feel the tip of it begin to poke him in the palm. Hannah moaned into his mouth, and her sexual hunger flowed from her bloodstream into his.

  Reluctantly he withdrew his tongue from her honeyed mouth and nibbled her earlobe. “T’korra, I’m afraid I won’t be much good to you in this form.”

  She opened glazed eyes to look at him. “You really can’t make love to me like this?”

  He laughed softly. “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

  “No time like the present,” Hannah whispered. Her fingers were already undoing the buttons on her blouse. Jeb took all of two seconds to come to a decision, then rolled over to untie the laces on his workboots.

  They shimmied out of their clothing in record time. Hannah cuddled back into his embrace. The feel of her bare skin against his outer layer was new to both of them.

  “God, you’re so sexy,” she breathed. Her moist tongue slid up his throat, sending streaks of white fire over every nerve. The sensation threw him for a loop. In the back of his mind Jeb tried to figure out how he was able to focus directly on the brightness flashing inside of him. Her hand played with his faux nipple, and the jolt to his human genitals numbed him with its intensity. He gasped, then groaned and buried his face in her hair.

  All these years he had equated his outer layer of skin to the feeling of wearing a thin glove. Pressure and touch were still there, but a lot of the finer nuances of feeling were gone.

  He couldn’t have been more wrong. When he was Ruinos he was open to all outside stimuli. Every sound, every smell, every taste and texture were increased a hundredfold. Colors were more vivid. Everything he did was awash in a thousand vibrant pixilations.

  Each night he went running through the woods behind the motel, which were so much like his homeworld, he could sometimes forget he was not back there on that beautiful planet. And each night he let himself be swept away by the explosion of sensations bombarding him. It was as if he could open up his very cells and drink in the oxygen-rich air with its hundreds of scents and sounds.

  But come the morning when he had to slip on the opaque covering, too many of those life-giving molecules disappeared. His body glove, as he often thought of it, masked nearly all those extra clues his body needed as a survival tool in day-to-day life. It masked them and muted them.

  He had told Hannah he couldn’t make love to her as a human. It hadn’t been a lie; it had been a guess. For their first joining, he had to be his true self. It couldn’t have been any other way. If Hannah couldn’t accept him for what he was, there would have been no hope for them. Jeb was convinced if he had not claimed her as Ruinos that blood line in his arm would not have formed.

  Now … he was not so sure.

  But the belief that there could be no sexual gratification while in his human guise was beginning to fade away under Hannah’s eager mouth and warm hands. When her lips latched on to one of his nipples and began suckling, he could feel his human erection arching upward in response.

  Exquisite, rolling pleasure plummeted down into his stomach, only to shoot through his veins. He clutched her buttocks and squeezed, massaging the round, pale flesh. Hannah released his nipple and inched her body downward until her groin was even with his. Parting her thighs, she let his manpipe slide between them before closing her legs tightly together. Her hips bucked, and Jeb knew he was trapped within her lusty web.

  “How does that feel?” Her voice was rough, straining against the throaty moans she would make every so often.

  “Incredible.”

  He couldn’t think. At the most he condemned himself for his stupidity. His outer layer wasn’t keeping him from relishing the sensations his life mate was evoking in
him. Just the opposite. His human guise was keeping out all the myriad sensations that would have been bombarding him in his true form. Now he could focus on her. On just her and all the sharp, intense pleasure she was wringing out of him.

  He could concentrate on just Hannah. On her scent. On the sweet softness of her skin. On the satiny threads of her hair tickling his groin. On the way her fingers found areas on his body he never knew could heat his blood until she touched them.

  Giving her buttocks another squeeze, Jeb ground her mound against him. Their hips undulated together, and he felt her tremble against him.

  “Jeb.”

  “Mmm?”

  He was lost in her. In her heat. In the power of her love. He could still smell her lemony tartness, but it was not as strong. Instead the scent of her sexual hunger overshadowed everything else.

  “What does t’korra mean?”

  His mouth found her forehead. His tongue lapped the saltiness of her skin as he breathed in the odor of their combined wetness.

  “You are my blood mate. My forever. My t’korra.”

  “Can I call you t’korra, too?”

  Bending down his head, Jeb nuzzled her nose. “You would call me t’kor. Your protector. Your life partner.”

  “T’kor.” Hannah tried to pronounce it with his accent. Giggling softly, she lifted her arms until they locked around his neck. “T’kor Jebaral, I love you.” And to prove she meant it, she squeezed her thighs together.

  A soft snarl rose from his throat. The pressure on his manpipe sent blood gushing to his brain. His hands shaking, he ran them down her sides, over her ribcage, and stopped when he reached her hips. Flexing his fingers, he suddenly lifted her clear of the bedclothes. Hannah gave a little cry of surprise until she realized what he was doing. Lifting her outer knee, she threw her leg over his waist and waited for the impalement.

  Slowly, steadily, he brought her down until he could feel the tip of his erection pressing at her entrance. Hannah wriggled her hips impatiently.