Attempted Assassination(22)

       
         
       
        

His arousal had become almost painful as it strained against his pants. Part of him wanted to just get down and dirty right here on the hotel floor, but another part of him wanted to drag out the torture all night long. He supposed he'd have to find some compromise.

Dropping to his knees, he nuzzled her sex, the heady scent only intensifying his desire for her. Slipping the thong down her legs, he tossed them aside, right next to the dress. As he gazed up at her, she worked a couple of pins from her hair, and the blonde tresses came toppling down around her breasts. She shook her head and ran her fingers through it, and as she looked down at him with such love on her face, he decided she seemed almost angelic-like she'd just stepped down from Heaven.

However, he knew that once they hit the sheets together, she was anything but holy.

Lifting her leg, he draped it over his shoulder, his tongue parting her lower lips as she threaded her fingers through his hair, gripping the stuff like her life depended on it.

As he dove deeper, her essence coating his lips and tongue, she sighed. The pretty sound traveled from his ears down to his cock, only making him harder. He pushed farther between her legs, her gasps like sweet music to his ears.

After a few moments, it felt as if she would pull his hair out as little mewls of pleasure accompanied her orgasm. Gripping her legs, he relentlessly tongued her, helping her to ride out each and every wave until the end when he felt her knees weaken. He stood slowly, gripping her hips, then her shoulders. He met her hooded gaze, a small grin playing on her lips. Turning around, she walked over the bed and got on all fours. As he admired the round globes of her ass, the bumps in her spine, and the curtain of hair, she glanced over her shoulder at him and said, "Come make love to your wife, Mr. Callahan."

He didn't think he'd ever undressed so fast in his life.



Jordan woke and peeled his eyes open, the erection in his sweatpants begging for attention, which immediately made him think of Ava's earlier visit.

She had been so desperate for him to remember them together, and guilt washed through him at his inability to do so.

But what about the dream? Had it been a memory, or something his brain had coughed up because of the remorse he felt for not being able to recall their past? Or maybe it had been a subconscious wish, because it couldn't be denied-Ava was hot as hell.

He didn't know, but based on the ache between his legs, his cock would be totally on board with making that fantasy come to life.

As he lay on the bed still feeling weak, he recalled that Ava had said they were going to shoot him up with LSD to try to get past the block that had been put in his mind. He had no idea how that would work. Having never tried LSD before, he didn't know what the trip would feel like, or what it would do to his brain. What if he turned into a vegetable, or it only made his memory worse? What if he forgot everything about the past year? 

Would it be so awful to forget that he snuffed out other people for a living?

One thing was certain-Joe had definitely put a grain of doubt in his mind on Group Nine and their methods. Here he'd spent the past year thinking he killed enemies of the United States, but maybe he hadn't. Maybe Group Nine would turn out to be really bad news, just as Joe had said.

As for Ava being his wife, well, wouldn't that be the shit. What if he had been remembering their wedding day? What if the emotions he'd felt during the dream had been real? He had loved that woman more than his own life.

How he wished he could recall it all.

Taking a deep breath, he decided that if the LSD could offer him an opportunity to do so, he'd take it willingly. It may kill him, but if what Joe, Ava, and the rest of them said had been true, he was a dead man walking, anyway.



Two hours later, Brody, Lucas, Garrett, and Ruben filed in, each of them packing a gun, while Brody also carried a tray. Joe and the doctor followed.

Lunchtime.

Although still reeling from his time with Ava this morning, he did feel better after his nap. When the scent of roast beef wiggled its way up his nose, his stomach rumbled loudly, letting everyone in the room know he had some serious hunger pains going on.

"We've got roast beef and mashed potatoes, along with a salad for you," Joe said. "Brody, please unshackle him so that he can eat."

Once he'd been freed, they dragged the table over to the bed and it sat at just the right height so he could shovel the food in his mouth. As everyone fanned out around the room, their hands on the butts of their guns, he dug in. The roast beef tasted wonderful, and he poured a little gravy over the mashed potatoes.

Damn. The spuds were so good-just a little bit lumpy, and just the way he liked them.

"Ava made the mashed potatoes. She said you used to prefer them a little lumpy. I hope that's still the case."

He glanced over at Joe. "Apparently, it is. I can't remember the last time I had a meal that tasted so good."

"Excellent."

Everyone stared at him while he ate, and if he hadn't been so hungry, it probably would have bothered him. Today, though, he could care less.

He took a long sip of the Diet Coke, then looked over at Joe again. "She said you're going put me on LSD to break through whatever has my brain on lockdown and unable to remember the past."

"Yes. How do you feel about that?"

He sighed as he cut into the roast beef. "Well, you've put a few nuggets of doubt in my mind about my past and who I am. Ava seems so certain that I'm her husband, and she's desperate for me to remember."

The room went silent as he poured more gravy on his plate and cleaned up the rest of the potatoes.

"So, I guess I'm on board. Like you said, Joe, I'm pretty much a dead man walking, anyway."

Joe laced his fingers together on his lap and smiled. "Excellent."

He shoved the last piece of roast beef into his mouth, thinking he probably should have eaten the salad first. He had to get his greens in, but the other stuff had looked too damn good. Now, his stomach bulged from scarfing down his meal, and he couldn't even imagine chowing down on the lettuce.

Never in a million years did he ever think he'd take LSD willingly, but here he was, ready to sign up. He hoped that it gave him the answers he needed to find out who he was, and where he belonged in life. And if it couldn't do that, at least give him some type of direction, because right now, he felt like a rudderless boat drifting, unsure where he should be docked.



       
         
       
        

"When do we get started?" he asked.

"We already have," Joe answered, motioning to the empty plate in front of him. "Your blood work came back clean. You have no other drugs in your system, and you're very healthy, so I thought there shouldn't be any time like the present."

He stared at the white orb laced with trails of leftover gravy, then glanced back over at Joe. "I thought LSD came in a square, like on a small piece of paper."

The doctor stepped forward. "That's the crap they sell on the streets. LSD in its purest form is a powder. I made your dose in my lab."

Well, shit.

Let the trip begin.





29





Colors. Everywhere, he saw colors.

As Jordan sat on his bed, he stared at the palms of his hands, then turned them over to look at the back. It almost seemed as if they glowed red. Who was that superhero that shot fire out of his hands? Spiderman? No, that had been webs, duh. Hell. He couldn't remember, but he supposed it didn't matter. Right now, he looked like that superhero with the soft, red light around his hands.

He looked up, surprised to see everyone staring at him. He'd forgotten they were here. How long had he been studying his colorful digits?

As he smiled at Brody, waves of blue began shimmering around the guy. Furrowing his brow, he tried to recall if he'd ever seen that happen to someone before, and he couldn't.

Brody shifted on his feet and wrapped his finger around the trigger, as if Jordan made him nervous.

"What's up, Jordan? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Jordan stood and pulled off his T-shirt, suddenly feeling a bit warm. He dropped it on the floor as he slowly approached Brody, the damp air giving him goose bumps.

Once he stood right in front of him, he reached out into the hue that surrounded Brody, but didn't touch him.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing," Brody said in a low growl, "but if you lay one finger on me, I'm going to break it."

Jordan's voice came out in a slow whisper, as if his tongue had suffered temporary paralysis. "You have blue all around you."

As Brody narrowed his gaze at him, he wondered what it all meant. The colors had meaning; of that, he felt certain. But what?

Glancing back down at his hands, he considered all the things red: roses, strawberries, cherries, roosters. None of it made sense, and he really concentrated, thinking of others  …  fire trucks, stop signs, apples, tomatoes, and ketchup. Damn. There seemed to be a lot of red food. After a quick gut check, he realized he didn't even feel hunger pains, so all the eats going through his mind only confused him. 

Studying Brody again, he tried to consider everything blue: the sky, blueberries-dammit, more food items-bluebirds, a good set of jeans  …  the ocean. His heart thumped in his chest as he made the connection. He'd been told that Brody could control the sea, and now he had a blue, shimmering glow around him. Smiling and feeling pretty damn proud of himself, he looked over at Lucas.