Dangerous Secrets (31 page)

Morgan stood up and moved to the floor. Her gym
bag hung on her shoulder. Her brain told her to leave. Her preservation
depended on her getting out of the room, but her feet took root in the cement
flooring. Jack′s eyes pierced through her, holding her in place. Morgan
couldn′t have moved if she′d wanted to. Her feet had nothing to do
with her former street mentality. She wasn′t trying to protect her turf
or stand up to the neighborhood bully. There was something about Jack that drew
her. It was visceral, mysterious, magical even. She had no explanation. It was
as if they had to be together, but coming together would mean fire and
perishing. There was no way to stop it. It was destined. She could only stand
and wait, watch while doom reached out for her. She would embrace it, knowing
it was forbidden, that nothing good could come from it, but helpless to do
anything to change the forces that had already been set in motion.

Morgan wore her leotard and tights. She could
explain she was heading for the gym to practice when she saw him. Jack gave her
no need to explain. Neither of them spoke a word.

He walked directly to her, his gait easy,
unhurried, his weight balanced. She had to look up as he approached. Morgan
watched him, a dark Poseidon, a devil-God rising from the sea, advancing toward
her, the light of the water in his eyes. Her heart beat so hard she was sure he
could see her chest moving. Yet they continued to stare, one at the other. The
room about them shrank, bringing the humid air closer and making it hard to
breathe. Heat escalated, growing hot enough to boil the pool water.

He stopped in front of her. Too close. He
breathed hard from physical exertion. Morgan felt the same although she had
done none of the work that he′d performed while she watched his efforts.
His body heat grew, enveloping her in its flames. She could almost see the
red-gold color of the encompassing wave as they teased her with their
all-consuming power.

Her eyes rose to Jack′s. Gone was the
coldness she′d always seen there. Gone was the hostility that normally
greeted her when she found herself in his line of vision. His eyes were liquid,
large brown circles that spoke to her without language, without tongue or teeth
or movement. She heard his mind, his heart, his need for her already knew the
words.

His short hair glistened with pool water,
bright, caught by the ceiling lamps that bathed him in a soft gold glow. Morgan
watched a drop of water roll over the curve of his ear. It caught the lobe and
hung there like a star, its light captured and sparkling bright. More drops
joined it until the tiny weight became too heavy and burst in an exciting
explosion.

Morgan gasped. Jack′s hands reached for
her waist, aligned their bodies, engulfing them in the dual heat of furnace-hot
generators. Her gaze came back to his. For a moment she saw a question in the
depths of his eyes. Then his head dipped and his mouth captured hers in a
searing kiss. An ageless, timeless communication of man to woman. A fire-hot,
molten revival of life. A circling, waving tsunami of need pouring from one to
the other and back in a ceaseless wave of desire, passion, rapture.

Morgan had secretly dreamed of him. She′d
imagined this kiss in the darkness of her bedroom, never thinking it would ever
be a reality. He lifted his head to reposition his mouth over hers. Morgan
grabbed his arms to keep from falling and Jack′s arms embraced her,
deepening the kiss. She melted into him, her arms encircling his neck, his arms
caressing her back.

Jack′s hands moved to her hair, combing
upward from her neck over her crown, anchoring her to him in a frontal full
nelson.

His mouth grazed hers, like a burning prairie
fire, dry and coarse, and moving out of control, pushed along by the wind.
Morgan tumbled like the bush into him. Going up on her toes she made room for
Jack to pull her closer as if he were the fire and she the life-giving air it fed
on. Long ancestral caravans of relatives rushed into Morgan. A sweeping
panorama of her own female ancestry rushed in a ghostly progression, making her
realize the force from which she′d come, the women who′d slaved and
toiled to bring her here to this life and this man. A desert of hope in a
sprawling mirage of spewing fountains.

They hung like that, supporting legs and arms
and torsos. Bobbing heads switched positions like the ticks of a clock. They
dodged, danced and connected. Two complementing souls finding each other over a
planet full of people, knew their joy, the wonder of being alive, the height of
a thousand yesterdays and the singularity of one frozen moment in time.

***

Jack broke contact just as he′d begun it.
He shifted Morgan′s head to his shoulder, letting her rest there while
they both hungered for air and each other. Nothing so cataclysmic had ever
happened to her before. There were no words to describe it, not now, not in the
past, the present or the future. Only the perfect tandem communication between
two souls.

Then Jack released her. He stepped back, their
personal space still twined, their auras mixed, their heat comingled. Morgan
felt the connection between them, as strong as iron chains, bonding them
together as invisible as a breeze. His eyes were hot on her, so hot that had
she not already been contained inside a form of skin, she would have flowed
across the floor like the puddles of water about them.

Emotion didn′t cross his face, but his
eyes changed from loving and wanting to questioning, confusing, and finally
regretting. Then the shutters closed over his face as surely as if he′d
donned a mask. Morgan felt a coldness pass between them as if she stood in the
path of a cold, frigid wind. Then Jack turned and walked away.

The gym bag on her shoulder dropped to the wet
floor. Droplets of water rained upward, splashing against her legs and soaking
into her stockings. A moment later her knees lost their power to keep her
upright. She sank to the floor, oblivious of her tights, unconcerned about the
bones in her knees, uncaring of the potential for hazardous injury to future
competitions. All she understood was that something special, unique and
wonderful had been offered to her, but like everything else in her life, it had
been jerked away before she could touch it.

***

The sound of a mixer jolted Morgan back to the
kitchen. She whipped around looking for the source of the noise. Her gaze
darted from one appliance to another, but there was no mixer. Nothing moved.
The counter was nearly free of all electronic devices used to make work in the
kitchen a marvel of efficiency and time-saving convenience. Yet the sound
continued. A wisp of movement caught Morgan′s eye.

She turned toward it, forgetting the pool scene
which had played out so many years ago, to find the subject of her thoughts
leaning against the doorjamb. It had been twelve years, twelve years of nights
since she′d seen him. Long, restless, unfulfilled nights, when she could
capture an image as fleeting as stardust.

Now there he stood—solid, comfortable,
commanding and sexy as a soft night with a moon on the rise. Then the fog
surrounding her brain lifted. It wasn′t a mixer she heard. It was the
sound of giant rotors beating the air.

A helicopter!

They′d been found. But how?

Jack came through the door.

She glanced over her shoulder. The window
suddenly made her feel exposed, vulnerable.
‶
Who did you call?″ she
demanded.

‶
It′s all right.
They′re here to rescue us.″

Jack headed toward the back door.

Morgan grabbed his arm, stopping him. She
listened to the sound. He′d think she was crazy if she told him she could
hear the type of helicopter it was. She′d spent a lot of time listening,
training. Every morning and each evening the traffic control helicopters flew
over the major arteries leading to downtown St. Louis. She also knew the sound
of commercial helicopters. She′d once dated a helicopter pilot and
he′d taught her how to tell the difference. He wanted her to be able to
distinguish his approach from the traffic control system. Morgan admitted she
wanted to learn. Anything that might help save her life in some future time,
she took advantage of. This might just be the time.

She gestured toward the window. The sound was
high.
‶
Who
did you call?′′ she asked again.

‶
Jacob Winston.″

Jack pulled himself free and headed again for
the door. She listened intently. Morgan didn′t know a military
helicopter. She could only tell that this one sounded heavy. Its beat through
the air had a slower rhythm than the commercial ones. She didn′t know
what that meant, but instinctively she understood there was danger present.

She turned as Jack reached the door. Through
the windows she saw the helicopter. Its dark hulk lined up with the huge wall that
provided beauty and light, but no protection. In a second she was after Jack.

‶
Jack, no!″ She lunged
across the room, slamming into Jack as bullets shattered the window. Glass
spewed across the kitchen with hurricane force. She and Jack crashed into the
wall of the small enclosure and sank to the floor. Their arms caught together
as they crammed into the tiny space, each one trying to protect the other.

‶
Got any ideas how we get out of
this?″ he whispered in an ironic form of humor as the bullets stopped
shattering everything around them.

‶
No,″ she said flatly. Her
hands moved quickly over him, frisking him in their awkward position on the
floor. She found what she appeared to be looking for. Reaching inside his
pocket she pulled the cell phone out and smashed it against the wall next to
Jack′s head. He reached past her trying to halt her attack on the device,
but in his position he was no match for her determination. The phone fell in
pieces which Morgan picked up and pulverized until the electronic enemy could
no longer hurt her.

‶
That was our only link with
help.″

‶
Well it wasn′t working
properly if this is the help it summoned.″

‶
Follow me and stay down.″
He crouched into a crawling position and led her up the back stairs. Thank
goodness Michelle′s
‶
cabin″ was no cabin. Bullets plummeted the
house. They ran through the upstairs toward the front of the house. Abruptly
Jack stopped and looked at the ceiling. Morgan followed his gaze.

‶
It′s moving,″ she
said, tracing the path of the helicopter above their heads.

He didn′t speak, but pulled her faster
behind him. They ran down the front stairs and to the cellar door. Jack went
into the darkness. Morgan wondered what he was doing, but she didn′t take
time to ask. She followed him. As if he′d been here before, he went
straight to a panel and flipped several switches. Then they started back to the
cellar stairs. The sound of bullets became louder the closer they got to the
top. Jack stopped before barreling through the door.

‶
We′ve got to get
outside,″ he whispered. Morgan thought he talked more to himself than to
her.

‶
The helicopter is out
there.″

‶
I know,″ he answered.
‶
We
better hope there is only one of them.″

‶
What are we going to do?″

‶
Bring it down.″

***

The idea had come to him in a flash and he
wasn′t at all sure it would work, but he′d been in tight situations
before and knew he had to work with whatever tools presented themselves. In
this case the tool was water.

‶
I want you to stay here.″

‶
No!″

‶
I don′t have time to
argue with you.″

‶
Then don′t. I′m not
staying here. You might need me.″

‶
You don′t even know what
I′m going to do.″

‶
I don′t care. Whatever it
is you could only have thought of it in the last two minutes, so it can′t
be that well thought out. I′m not staying here, so stop wasting
time.″

‶
I knew you′d be trouble
the moment I saw you,″ he muttered.
‶
Stick close and keep your head
down.″

At the side door Jack listened until they knew
the helicopter was at the back of the house. Cautiously he looked out. Grabbing
her hand he quickly pulled her through the door and to the fire hose he′d
discovered earlier.

He pulled hose from the circular frame that
held it neatly out of the way. He touched the water pipe and could feel the
pressure there.

‶
Unroll this,″ he told
her, indicating the tan-colored hosing.
‶
Keep doing it until it′s
all off the frame. At my signal turn on the water.″ Again he touched the
knob which when opened would force water through the tubing.

Jack took the end of the hose and started
toward the back of the house. He stopped at the edge and looked for the
helicopter. The range of the hose was designed for the height of the house.
Jack glanced at the roof above him to gauge the distance. The helicopter had
been low enough to spray the kitchen with bullets. He only hoped when it came back
around, it was low enough for the water to impact it.

He listened as the sound grew louder, coming
toward him. The direction was right. His heart pounded. He was only going to
get one chance. Looking back, he saw Morgan. She had nearly unrolled all the hose.
He thought of her standing on her beam so many years ago. He′d put her in
danger that day and he′d done it again today. She only had him, even if
she didn′t realize it yet.

Turning his attention to the task, he spotted
the helicopter the moment it swung around the house. Like a giant bug the cabin
came into view, its windows smoky gray to prevent glare. Jack knew he would be
in plain view, and the guns mounted on the sides of the aircraft would have a
perfect target in his jean-clad body.