by Dez Burke
The car behind me must have known about the police station as well, because they stopped simply following me and began actively harassing me. The dark sedan surged up into my blind-spot on the left, pushing me towards the edge of the road. My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as the car's headlights poured into my car. I sped up, trying to get away, but the sedan just kept trying to force me to pull over.
When I refused to go onto the shoulder, they took a more drastic step, swinging into the side of my bumper. The jolt made me shriek, my back of my car skidding across the road. I sped up, trying desperately to make it to the police station. If I could only make it there, I would be safe; I would make it through this. My little car's engine screamed with effort as I pushed the gas pedal into the floor, trying desperately to pick up speed.
The car slammed into me again, pushing me into the shoulder of the road. I hit a patch of gravel and felt the steering wheel lurch out of my hands. The headlights blinded me; I felt the car rotate, and suddenly my world was upside down. Everything seemed to move at half speed, my brain registering the smallest details with clarity: the speedometer at 58mph, the gas tank with less than a third left, the dust on the dash, the engine revving, the shadows changing as the car flipped. My world seemed to be made of crystal, delicate and shining. The crystal shattered as the airbags deployed and filled my vision.
All I could think of was that I hadn't told him I loved him. I knew it deep in my bones and I hadn't said anything yet. I prayed I wouldn't die, my only reason being that I hadn't told him.
***
I heard the gravel tearing into the roof of my car, the paint peeling off as I spun like a top across the pavement. The car finally stopped, the slow upside down spin coming to a halt. The seat belt dug into my shoulder, my head pounding as I hung suspended in the air. Time had no meaning as I struggled to breath, struggled to live. My vision was blurry, but I saw a pair of shoes by the passenger side window.
I tried to call out, my voice not obeying. Nothing in my body seemed to be responding to command as I watched a hand pull out my laptop bag from the broken glass. The shoes retreated, the gravel crunching loud in my ears. I could hear the sedan pull away, its engine purring softly into the night as it left me in silence. The car creaked a low metallic moan into the darkness. Somewhere a siren began its howl towards me.
I suddenly found my voice, wordless screams pouring from my throat. Flashing lights took control, men in uniforms asking my name as I tried to remember what language I spoke. Everything felt wrong. I let strong hands take me as my world went black and the angry cry of the ambulance wailed into the night.
***
I didn't want to open my eyes. If I held perfectly still, I could pretend that nothing hurt and that everything was okay. Unfortunately, my body felt the requirement to breathe. I felt so hazy and tired, like all I wanted to do was sleep but my body couldn't figure out how anymore; I could feel the IV in my arm pushing cold fluid into my veins, the medicine only taking the edge off. I remembered someone saying the words broken ribs- maybe that was why every breath felt like fire. I tried to put the pieces together of what was going on, but everything was so blurry and fragmented.
“Where is Claire Vanders? Where is she?” I heard Mr. King growl outside my door. He sounded like an angry bear looking for his cub. Someone must have pointed towards my room because I heard the door open. I didn't want to open my eyes, afraid he might not really be there, afraid of the look on his face.
He paused at the foot of my stretcher, his hand grazing my foot through the blanket. His soft touch didn't hurt; it instead felt so reassuring that I decided that I could open my eyes. It took so much effort to lift them, as if they were made of lead. Even just trying to open them somehow hurt. By the time I managed to get one eye cracked open, Mr. King was sitting by my head, his warm hand gently holding mine.
He looked so unlike his usual confident self I wondered if the medicine was affecting me more than I thought. His normally perfect blonde hair was disheveled, highlighting a face full of worry. His clothes were wrinkled and he had missed a button, skewing his entire shirt to the right. The only thing that convinced me that the flustered man sitting there was the illustrious Gregory King were his eyes. I could feel worry radiating out of their hazel depths. I tried to smile, but even that slight movement sent tiny spikes of pain shooting through me. I tried to speak, but my voice simply croaked instead.
“Shhh, Claire, you're safe here. I got here as soon as they called me” he shushed gently as he saw me waking. His hand brushed some hair out of my face, his fingers gentle. A nurse came in and asked if I wanted more medicine. I managed a nod, and she injected something into the IV. I could feel the pain slip away, never fully leaving, but something I could tolerate.
“How did I get here?” I asked. I am pretty sure it came out, “Hwdideyegtere” but Mr. King stroked my hair gently as he answered.
“An ambulance brought you here. They had to cut you out of your car. What happened?”
“That other car hit me,” I started.
“What other car?” His voice was quick and angry. I looked up at him frightened, and his face suddenly softened. “There was another car?”
“It was dark and they were following me...” I tried again. My memory was fragmented, and the medicine kept the pieces from falling together and making sense. “Their headlights were so bright. I was upside down.” Mr King nodded encouragingly, his fingers softly playing with my hair.
“Then there were fire fighters. You should be a fire fighter. You would look pretty in their uniform.” My thoughts seemed to run straight through to my mouth. Mr. King's eyebrows raised, but he kept stroking my hair.
“Do you remember anything else?” He asked.
“I needed to tell you something. Something important, but I don't remember now...” I looked up at him, the medicine making me sleepy. “Maybe I'll remember in the morning...” I wanted to sleep so badly, but something was bothering me, something I needed to tell him.
“They took my laptop!” I sat up quickly, and instantly regretted the movement. Mr. King carefully laid me back down on the stretcher, whispering soft words until I was again comfortable.
“We'll find it. You rest now.” He resumed his gentle strokes through my hair.
“Will you stay with me? I don't want to wake up alone again...” I asked quietly. He smiled and softly kissed my forehead.
“Of course, I'll stay with you as long as you want me to,” he whispered. My drug addled brain wondered if he meant something more than just staying with me at the hospital, but I couldn't hold the thought. Sleep rushed up at me suddenly, and before I could answer I was lost to dreams.
***
Two broken ribs, one black eye, a split lip, 14 stitches on my calf, a concussion, too many bruises and scratches to count, and a partridge in a pear tree. I stayed the night in the hospital as they made sure I was safe to send home. Gregory never left my side. Every time I woke up, he was there, sitting next to me and holding my hand.
When they discharged me, he practically carried me to the car and drove me home himself. He wanted to carry me into the house, but I steadfastly refused. Instead he simply supported my lopsided hobble into the main room.
I looked at the stairs with dread, my leg protesting the use. Mr. King instead guided me to the conservatory, where among potted trees William had created a bedroom. There was a queen sized bed with a small nightstand on either side with the book I was reading sat at the ready under a lamp. One of the glass walls now was draped with heavy curtains, a large TV with an easy chair set up for my entertainment. A new laptop sat on the seat of the easy chair charging and awaiting me to claim it. I looked around in amazement, trying to take it all in.
“Thank you guys!” I finally sputtered out as I limped towards them.
“William gets all the credit,” Mr. King deferred. William turned a lovely shade of red, especially when I kissed his cheek. “The doctor said you were to rest
today, so no work.” Mr. King said sternly, guiding me towards the big recliner. I put up no resistance as the comfy chair enveloped me, sighing with relief as I kicked out the leg rest and elevated my aching leg.
With a goofy smile, Mr. King handed me my phone with the text messaging open. “Text whatever you want to that number- William and I thought a bell would be a little too cliché, so we went with an electronic bell instead. I have to get to the office, but you have my number as well.” He paused like he was going to add on, but instead he quickly shut his mouth and instead kissed my forehead. “Feel better soon,” he whispered as he stood up and nodded to William on his way out the door. I wished he didn't have to leave.
“What can I get for you Claire?” William asked, approaching my chair.
“Something to eat, something to drink, and the remote for the TV,” I replied with a grin. I opened the laptop. He nodded once and brought me the remote from the table before heading to the kitchen. I loaded a movie from the TV menu, and began booting up my new computer. The laptop started quickly, and Mr. King had already loaded it with my settings, even replacing my music. It made me smile, and it let me get to work faster.
Despite his 'no work' mandate, I needed to look at my work files. Someone ran me off the road and stole my laptop, which told me they thought something valuable was on it. I had done some reasoning while waiting for my discharge, and even on pain meds, it made sense. I had downloaded something important the night of the accident. I knew it also had to be something about that particular collection of files, or they wouldn't have gone to all that effort for me not to get at it; I must have had all the pieces to the puzzle on that computer and just didn't realize it.
Luckily, whoever did this to me obviously did not know about my cloud storage space. I logged on and downloaded all the files, spreading them out across the monitor, trying to find a pattern. William returned with a bowl of homemade chicken dumping soup and sweet tea, giving me a wink as he saw me working. I started looking for a pattern, trying to figure out who was cooking the books and who had put me in the hospital.
***
I had been at those stupid files for three days and couldn't find their secret. Granted, I was still fairly medicated and slept more than usual, but I couldn't find the connection. I was getting frustrated. I still hurt from my accident, I was stuck at home, and I couldn't find the answer to something I knew had to be there. By the end of the third day I was ready to scream at someone.
Mr. King returned from the office that evening, looking frustrated himself. I knew he was having a hard time without me there, and was more than ready to have me back at the office. I wanted to go back as well, but I was still weaning off the pain pills, and my face resembled something left too long in the fridge. The black eye was now a sickly green color, purple and green bruises still covering the rest of my body. At least all the swelling had gone down so my face worked properly again. We both thought it best if I waited to return until I no longer looked like I had gone ten rounds in the ring with my hands tied together.
“Rough day?” I asked as he collapsed into a chair. He simply rolled his head to look at me, the answer obvious in his posture. “I am going stir crazy. Let me live vicariously through you. Tell me how horrible your day was so I can pretend I was there.”
“Done. Here, come sit by me” said said patting his knee with a naughty grin. I couldn't help but smile as I put my laptop down.
I stood up too quickly. The simple movement shot waves of pain through my body; the stitches in my leg screamed with the addition of weight, and my cracked ribs created ribbons of agony. I crumpled to the floor, my body quivering with pain. He was on the floor with me before I even registered that I had fallen, his hands gentle and face concerned. I looked up into his eyes and got lost. His eyes were deep pools of blue and brown that swirled together in endless variations, a whirlpool of concern and color that I wanted to drown in.
“Not quite the image of elegance I was going for,” I gasped as he scooped me up. I didn't struggle against him as he lifted me and gently placed me on the bed. His arms felt so strong around me, holding me close. As he set me down, I held onto him, keeping him near me. His hair reminded me of sunshine, his scent masculine and musky. My body ached both physically and sexually, I wanted his touch. I reached up and kissed him softly, tasting his lips.
“I don't want to hurt you,” he whispered.
“You've tied me to a chair and used clothespins on my nipples” I whispered back teasingly.
“That was different. I could control that pain- this pain isn't of my doing.” He looked slightly distressed as he grazed his fingers along my side.
“So make it yours.”
He paused for a moment, then smiled. “I think you need some more ice. I'll be right back.” He sprang up and bounded out the door. I waited patiently, sitting up on the bed, and he returned after a moment. He had two ice packs, an elastic bandage wrap, a scarf, an ice bucket full of cubes, and a naughty grin.
“Take off your shirt. We need to ice those ribs,” he growled lustfully. I happily unbuttoned my shirt, and with his help slid it off my shoulders. I wasn't wearing anything underneath, my ribs and bruises made it too painful. He licked his lips, his hand caressing the under curve of my breast. His hand was cold from the ice packs and my nipple hardened at his touch. A low chuckle escaped his throat as he softly flicked the hard nub, sending a shiver through my body.
“Lay on your stomach.” he commanded, his voice low and lustful. I carefully rolled to my stomach. He grabbed each wrist, bringing them together above my head, where he then tied them together with the bandage. He then looped the remaining bandage around the headboard, trying me down. I tested my bonds, and while tight, the elastic bandage was comfortable and had enough give that I could position myself comfortably.
He then slid a satin scarf over my eyes. The fabric felt cool and slippery as it blocked out the light. With me tied to the bed face down I couldn't see much anyway, but the scarf seemed to heighten the experience. My skin prickled as he ran his fingertips down my spine, tracing the tops of my pants. He tugged gently at my sweats, pulling them off with ease. I lay in just my simple cotton underwear and socks. He pulled the socks off one at a time, tickling my feet slightly. I tried to kick him, but he was too fast.
Cool fingers pulled my panties off, leaving me naked and tied to the bed. I felt the bed shift as he joined me on it, and I could feel his eyes looking down on me. He pulled my hair away from my neck, and kissed me softly. His kisses were cold, like a fall morning frost. The temperature surprised me, but I wanted more. He continued to kiss down my shoulder, the ice in his mouth cold and wonderful. I shivered, not from the cold bur from excitement.
An ice cube touched the nape of my neck, the cold making me gasp. I ignored the pain in my ribs, the sensation of cold distracting me. He traced the ice to my shoulder blades, making small designs with the melting water. The cold felt wonderful against my skin. He picked his ice cube up and traced it down the length of my spine, from the nape of my neck to the curve of my lower back. I felt him lean over, and blow onto the trail of melted water. His breath was warm, but the water felt cold, making me shiver with anticipation. A throaty chuckle followed every shiver as he enjoyed himself.
He traced a fresh ice cube across my shoulder blades, down to my lower back, along the upper curve of my butt, and then along the crack. Cold ice water dripped down between my cheeks, dripping onto the sensitive areas below. He left the remainder of the cube to melt on my lower back, the water pooling in the curve of my spine and the dripping down the sides of my hips. I moaned softly, my body heating despite the cold.
Cold fingertips ran the length of my back, his fingers barely touching me. I wanted his fingers to touch me everywhere, but he just drew in the water left from the ice, teasing my skin with his touch. It felt so gentle and sensual, I felt like I could die of arousal.
He picked up the ice cube again, running it along my uninjured ribs. He he
ld it at the top, in line with the middle of my shoulder blade, letting it melt down towards my breast. An icy drop of water danced across the soft flesh of my breast, tickling and teasing me. I could feel each drop, like an icy rivulet of pleasure as he let the ice melt and drip down under my arm and find their way to my breast. I wanted to wipe them off, but I didn't struggle against my bonds.
“Roll over” he whispered into my ear. His breath was still cool from the ice, making my ear tingle. Very carefully I rolled over, the bandage stretching easily to accommodate the movement. When I was firmly on my back, my hands still overhead, he bent over and kissed me. He probed my mouth with his tongue, and when I opened mine, he slipped an ice cube in. The ice was cold and melting, his tongue hot and ready, both invading my mouth.
I took both in, the hot and cold thrilling my senses. He left the ice in my mouth, and I heard him pick up a second cube. His lips grazed my collar bone, the ice held between them. The cold seeped through my skin as he dragged the ice along my collar bone, pausing to let the hollows of my throat fill with melting ice.
He picked up an ice cube, letting it slide from the hollow of my neck down to my navel. Cold water pooled in my belly button as he traced lazy circles around it. A second cube started large circles around my breast, slowly turning into smaller and smaller circles as they neared my nipple. The cold shocked through me as he pushed the ice directly onto my erect nipple, the skin pulled as tight as it could go.
The cold seared through me on tiny threads of frozen fire, feeding the flames growing within my core. His lips, still cold from ice, kissed my nipple softly, his tongue playing with the hardened flesh, his mouth slowly warming. As he released that breast from his mouth, he reached up with cold fingers and began to play with the other side. His fingers felt so cold at first, but the heated quickly.
