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Authors: A Nichols

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BOOK: FlakJacket
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Madison held a tiny baby in her arms. “You are not going to die,” she whispered to the infant. “I want you to breathe and get some of this fluid in you.” She rubbed the infant’s back softly, crooning to it. Then she held a bottle to its lips as it began a weak sucking. “See. I knew you could do it.”

A nurse poked another in the arm. “That baby was said to be dead when it came in. She is amazing.”

Jordan worked consistently for two hours until the line of people who needed his help was gone, either sent home or sent for further tests. His eyes scanned the area for Madison. He needed to see her, to touch her, to know that she was all right. He messaged Tim for information on her whereabouts.

Tim was working with her, carrying children, getting bandages, and moving beds. He noted her tiredness and her slowing movements. He messaged Jordan their location, and Jordan was there in fifteen minutes. Madison looked up to see him crossing the triage area to her. She wondered what he would say; she wasn’t even supposed to be at the hospital, and she hated it when Jordan was angry with her. She was sitting with three babies who were ready to be admitted to the hospital. Before he could even reach her, a middle-aged woman grabbed his arm and said, “She saved them. She saved them all.”

Jordan patted the hand on his arm. “I know she did.” Then he moved to stand in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Jordan. I know what you said, but...”

“We’re leaving. You’re exhausted, and we’ve done all we can here for the time being. Get ready.” She couldn’t read his expression, and her shoulders slumped. He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. “Madison, I’m not upset with you. I just want to take care of you right now. Will you let me?” He tried a tentative smile now that he knew she was all right. Her answering one filled him with peace, and she nodded. He helped her to stand and motioned for another nurse to take the last child to care for. She made it three steps before her legs gave out, and he swung her up into his arms, just looking at her with new eyes.

“Jordan. What is it?” There was something different about him. He took her to his car and sat her in the front seat, buckling the seatbelt. She laid her head back, her eyes closed, trying to put some distance between all the pain, suffering and death she had seen that afternoon. After a series of commands to his men, Jordan climbed in and turned the car towards home. Her maternity top had bloodstains on it.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m just so tired, and I lost a child, Jordan. I couldn’t help him; he died in my arms. His mother was devastated, and I didn’t know what to do for her.”

“You did everything you could, Madison. That’s all any of us can do.” He touched her hand, and the warmth of it filled him with intense emotion.
He let it stampede into his being.

“I heard you were treating patients. Where did you learn to do that?”

“The war, the excursions into the jungles, my background in Jordan. I almost went to medical school.” Her eyes met his; there was a background story here that she wanted to know, but she was just too tired to ask.

He pulled the car up in front of the house and helped her up the steps. Then he swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom they shared, sitting her on the bed, taking off her shoes and gently massaging her feet. “That feels heavenly.” He sat down beside her and touched her face softly, watching her intently.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I’m thinking what an amazing woman you are.”

“You’re not angry with me for visiting the hospital then?” She sounded so hopeful.

“Oh, I’m angry all right, but at myself for not seeing what you are capable of doing. It’s going to take me awhile to wrap my hands around that, around YOU.” Then he walked into bathroom and filled the tub with hot water and oils, returning to her side. “Let’s get this top off you. I’m throwing it away.” He helped her to undress and steered her to the bathroom where she slipped her weary body into the warm water. “Just soak for awhile to get those strained muscles to relax.” She sat back, her eyes never leaving him, watching as he got towels for her and then collected her dirty clothes from the floor in the bedroom. The bloodied top went into the trash. The warm scented water was easing the aches and pains and tension from her body.

“Your son is kicking me again.” He looked at her. “I think you need to have a talk with him—soon.” He loved her comment –
his son.

“Feeling abused are you?”

Jordan was acting differently, and Madison was frightened, waiting for the shoe to drop. Was he done with her? Finally, she had to ask. “What do you know now that you didn’t know when you left the house this morning?” Jordan had to smile at her sharp intuition and her knowledge of him.

He turned, his hands on his hips, a serious expression on his face, and his eyes on hers. “I know now that I’m in love you, Madison.” She was stunned at his frank confession.

He turned and walked out of the bathroom as he processed the intense feelings that were running rampant in him. He stood in the bedroom collecting his thoughts when he felt small hands creep around his waist and a wet cheek lay on his back. She pulled him to her in a strong hug. He placed his hands on hers for seconds enjoying the connection, and then he turned and gathered her in. She was soaking wet from the tub and imprinting her wet image on his dry clothes, but he didn’t care. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips, finally accepting his fate.

“Get back in the tub before you catch a chill.” He needed to ground himself with some reason here, and she was soaking the floor; that was a safety matter. She giggled as he turned her, pushed her slightly and tapped her rear end, watching her body move gracefully towards the tub once again. He couldn’t take his eyes away.

CHAPTER 23

S
he lay in his arms, revisiting the past night. He was still sleeping, his body entwined with hers, and she was afraid to move fearing that she would wake him. She warned her son to be good as well; his kicking between them often caused his father some distress. She hadn’t made a mistake. Jordan was the right one, and she had hope for the first time for her own future.

His lovemaking, and that’s what it was, it wasn’t just sex any more, had blown her away. Where before he had made her body sing, now he captured her heart and made it fly as well. His hands had carefully memorized every part of her body. His fingers found her openings and claimed them; his mouth didn’t miss one centimeter of her skin, and when she exploded around him, he gave her everything he had to offer, marking her as his. His mouth left one mark on her, a claiming of sorts.

Not only did he claim her physically, he claimed her mentally as well, soothing her fears, whispering words of love to her, and letting her know that they were one. It was an intense coming together, and she would hold the memory close to her heart forever. He had declared that he loved her, he had claimed her body, and he had joined her spiritually as well.

She heard his low voice rumble. “You’re awake,
Witch.”
His hands tightened on her waist and then moved up to her breasts, palming them as his lips found hers. “We need to get up. I have to go to work.”

“Later?”

He thought for only a moment, and then her body was pulled over him to align with his, his hands following her ass as she lay atop him. “How’s my son?” The baby chose that time to kick hard to his laugh. “I think I will have my work cut out for me in regards to him.”

“Well, you could start touching me. If you wanted to sleep, you could have just stayed beside me?”

“Oh, I could, could I?” She nodded as she caught his lips with hers. “I guess work can wait for awhile,” and his hands were on her again.

The second man involved in Madison’s kidnapping was picked up that afternoon. Jordan had left the house with two of his men, telling Madison that he had a work related issue he had to address. She was manning a phone bank asking for money for her refugee cause. He kissed her softly as he grabbed his coat and took off.

Allen Michaels sat in a back room of a bar, two of Jordan’s men on guard.

“What do you guys want? Just tell me so I can answer you, and you can let me go. I haven’t done anything to have you drag me in here.”

No one answered him. The door opened, and Jordan came in. “Mr. Michaels?” His icy demeanor and disdain preceded him. “I’m Jordan Lassiter. I believe you abducted Madison Kelly two years ago, and right now, I’d like to kill you.”

“What? I wasn’t involved in that.” Jordan threw down the images taken from the security cameras in the venue. He was one of the people that were trying to pull Madison from the party.

“What did you say?” he said in a menacing voice.

The man bit his lip hard, trying to decide how serious Jordan was. The men he had with him were armed; he was not. “I was involved, but I never touched her.”

“I. Want. Every. Detail.” Allen swallowed hard.

“Could I have some water please?” Jordan nodded, and one of his men went to get the drink. He was back in seconds. Jordan hadn’t moved a muscle.

“I’m waiting.”

“Do you know the witch? If you do, you need to look at this. He pulled up his suit coat and shirtsleeve to point to a wound on his arm that didn’t seem to be healing. This happened that night. It’s been two damn years. I’ve had six doctors look at it, but no one can get it to heal. She scratched me that night and ripped the flesh here, fighting me to let her go. Every time I look at it, I wonder if it will ever go away.”

“The story?”

“We were sent to a party to pick up a woman. She was easy to spot because of her unique coloring, reddish hair, pale blue eyes and white skin. Nobody told me she was a witch until we got there. She didn’t exactly look like a witch, none that I ever saw, anyway. She was supposed to have healing hands and the ability to predict future events. She didn’t show any pain, and it was hinted that she could change men into other things—like Circe in that myth. The job looked like a piece of cake to me. She was just a little thing, easy to subdue.” Jordan’s fists tightened.

“Claude put stuff in her drink, you know, to knock her out. But she didn’t go out. I swear he put a dose in there that would have killed a horse.” He shook his head. “I was the one who got her moving towards the doors to the outside. That’s when she struggled with me and punctured my arm with her teeth, dragging her nails through it, those blue devil eyes boring into me. She only said one word to me: “Don’t,” and if looks could have killed, I’d be dead. We managed to get her through the doors and into the tree area as she really began to fight us, screaming. Claude hit her a couple of times to keep her quiet, and I, well I might have kicked her once or twice when she wouldn’t get up and walk. I had to pull her along. I didn’t really hurt her, cause she couldn’t feel pain, right? We took her to a dock where a ship was to pick her up. It never showed. Shit. We couldn’t keep her, and there were cops everywhere looking for her. We dumped her along the highway. Didn’t know what else to do with her.”

“She could have died; she was badly injured.”

“But, she didn’t, did she?”

“What if we do the same thing to you as you did to her?”

“What? No. There are three of you.”

“You get the message then—uneven fights aren’t really fair, are they?” One of Jordan’s men grabbed him and hauled him out of his chair. “Wait.” Jordan’s voice stopped him. “Who paid?”

“The man’s name was Hull, Thomas Hull, I swear.” Jordan nodded to his men and they took Allen out to the waiting police. Jordan was livid.

That was two down, and one to go
. Who had sponsored the party, and how had Madison gotten an invitation to it? He tapped his IT guy to look into the question for him. Then he squared his shoulders and took the steps into the house, two at a time. He met Tim in the great room.

“Where is she?”

“She went out, sir.”

Jordan felt his heart go into his throat. “Why aren’t you with her then?”

“She’s in the yard, picking out a Christmas tree for you to cut down, and she told me to
Get Lost
. I don’t know whom I answer to under conditions like that, but since I can see her through the patio doors, I opted to stay out of her way. She is very intent on this Christmas action. Fair warning, Sir.”

“Thomas Hull has become a person non grata here in this home. If you see him and can get a clear shot, get him to assault you so you can kill him.” Tim looked at Jordan. “OK, so I didn’t really mean that. He’s a threat, Tim.”

“Noted, Sir. I think you better put on gloves before you go out.” Jordan looked perplexed; it had been a long time since he had actually celebrated Christmas. “Trees are sticky things, Sir, and they can scratch as well.”

“Noted, Tim. I’ll get my gloves.” He looked out the patio doors to see Madison wrapped in plaid. “What in the hell is she dressed in?”

“She doesn’t have heavy winter clothes. She’s wearing a coat and hat of yours.”

“She’s swimming in them. That will change.” Madison tripped in the over-large coat as she tried to check the bottom branches of the fir she had selected for their tree; there was a whistling sound and then a bullet struck the ground behind her, blowing up snow.

Jordan was out the door, running and tackling her to the ground as a second shot was heard, and a bullet struck the tree. Jordan pulled her into the shelter of the large pines and covered her. Tim had raced out behind him following the trajectory of the bullets, firing a shot. Another bullet found him, and he crumpled to the ground, but rolled to shoot in the direction of the perpetrator again. A cry was heard, and then silence. Another one of Jordan’s men tore around the corner of the house and ran to Tim, rolling him over to check on him. Jordan was on his phone to his perimeter men, and they saw a suspect jump from a wall in the gated community and chased him. He was bleeding, so they hoped to get him.

Jordan turned Madison over in the snow, cradling her head and whispering, “Madison. Please.” She was struggling to get her breath as he picked her up and carried her inside, calling to his other man to bring Tim. He laid her carefully on one of the two couches in the room, and moved to help get Tim inside.

BOOK: FlakJacket
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