My Kind Of Crazy (17 page)

Minutes pass by as we explore each other, and then the car
comes to a complete stop. The engine cuts off, and I push away from her violently,
and shove her into the back of the trunk, furthest from the opening. I use my
entire body to shield her, and wait patiently for someone to pop it open. It’s
an old car because our assailant uses a key to open up the trunk.

The first thing that hits me is the light, and then the
smell. We’re near a forest, and judging by the amount of time it took to get
here, we’re not that far out of town. I can still taste Anastasia’s kiss on my
lips, and that is what fuels me to kick out my feet first. My sneaker makes
contact with the smaller assailant’s face and sends him flying back to the
ground. His hands immediately go up to his nose as blood begins to spurt out,
but it’s not enough to have him down for long.

The second assailant, the large one, grabs me by the hair
and hauls me out of the trunk with the gun shoved into my face. I stare at the
hazel eyes, and realize that these are not the ones she saw the first time she
was kidnapped. They’re darker, more like green than hazel. And I recognize
them.

“Henry Cooper,” I spit out as a distraction. It’s not until
I hear Anastasia’s shoes pounding on the dirt road that I realize she’s made
it. My heart soars as I begin to laugh, and then I hear the sound of a gunshot.
For a moment, I believe that the burly one has shot me between the eyes, but
when I don’t lose my vision my heart sinks.

Her scream enrages me, and I ball up my hands into fists as
I try to punch my way out of Henry’s grasp. His grunt of pain notifies me that
I hit him somewhere delicate, and I bring up my knee in an attempt to get a
better shot. Another gunshot goes off, and this time Henry roars in my face as
he spins me around. Anastasia is nowhere in sight, and what must be Benjamin Cooper
is lying on the ground.

His chest jerks once as blood starts to gurgle from between
his lips, and then his eyes open wide as he stills. It was a precise kill shot
that took him down, and I look to the tree line at the back of the farmhouse to
see who fired the gunshots. It seems fitting that the Coopers will die here. With
that thought, I bring my foot up and try to slam free of Henry, but he tumbles
to the ground with me.

“I can’t get a clear shot!” I hear someone screaming, and
then I hear Anastasia begin to yell.

“Then don’t shoot! Don’t shoot for God’s sake!” But the
gunfire ricochets off the house above us. She must have diverted the person who
was shooting’s arm.

I get in a few good hits to Henry’s face, and the gun falls
out of his fingers. Scrambling to pick it up, I start to yell. “He’s unarmed!”
Over and over again I yell it, and finally someone is pulling me off Henry’s
body and yanking me to my feet.

Blindly, I swing at the third person with my hands balled
up. But Chief Robertson grabs my wrists before I can make contact with his face
and stares me down. My breaths are coming fast, and my mind is blank for the
first time in my life. I’m operating on survival mode.

“Jonah, it’s alright. Anastasia’s fine, and we have Henry in
custody. Ben’s dead. Why don’t you come with me and we can get your statement
at the station?” I know that voice. It’s the one that the nurses would use at
the psych ward when they were afraid I was on the verge of snapping. They were
right, and so is Chief Robertson. I’m about to snap.

“Jonah?” Her voice is like a cool summer’s rain on a hot,
muggy day. It releases me from the haze of murderous rage and washes over me. I
let that tenderness fill me until I’m sure that I won’t turn on whoever touches
me next. Thankfully, it’s her cool fingertips on my face as she turns my head.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Why aren’t getting the cuffs
off him?” Her voice rises with each question, and I feel a smile tugging at my
lips. The Chief holds up his hands in surrender and calls for someone to get
some wire cutters. As soon as he’s a few feet from me, I turn my full attention
to Anastasia.

“I’m fine, are you alright? No bullet wounds?” I know I have
a smile on my face because I’ve already glanced over her to make sure that
she’s okay. She nods, and before I can ask her anything else an officer taps me
on the shoulder gently. I let the woman cut off the cuffs, and rub at the raw,
sore spots.

“Do either of you need an ambulance?” I look myself over
once.

“No, I’m fine.” We both say at the same time. My hand snakes
out to take hers, and we make our way to a squad car. I want to get this done
and over with. After this is all settled, I think I’m going to ask this woman
out on a date.

“God, I feel like someone shoved a camera up my ass to look
for polyps while they were questioning me.” I rub my behind to make my point,
and her laughter tinkles through the room of the suite. I haven’t brought up
the fact that we should return to the farmhouse soon and fix it up so that it’s
livable. I’m not sure if she wants to stay here now that everything has been
finished, and I don’t want to hear her tell me that she’s not yet.

“I know, but thank God they were there when they were. We’d
both probably be dead if not for them.” I sling an arm around her shoulders and
pull her close just to confirm that she’s really beside me. Her stool teeters
and I release her, but my hand slides down to rest on her thigh.

“I wouldn’t have let you die. I promise.” She’s about to say
something, but someone knocks on the door. This time, I hop off my own stool to
head for it. I have to unlock the door knob, the deadbolt, and the chain lock
before I can open up the door to see who is at it. But before I swing it open,
I look out the peephole to make sure that it’s the pizza delivery kid.

“Mr. Quinton!” He says hurriedly as he hands over my pizza.
“Is it true that you singlehandedly took out three guys with guns?” His eyes
are alight with his excitement, and I wonder what other rumors have been flying
through the town only four hours after the incident.

“No, I barely took out one.” He looks disappointed, but I’m
not here to please the rumor mill. I hand the kid his cash and a little extra,
and close the door before he can ask me any more questions.

“This is going to be a mess for a while.” Anastasia mumbles
as I set the goods on the counter. Tonight, I grab us both glasses and plates.
For the next fifteen minutes, not one of us speaks as we dig into the greasy
pizza, cheese fries, and the appetizer sampler I ordered. I wait until she is
sipping on her water to ask my question.

“Hey, now that we’re not on the run from psychopaths
anymore, I was wondering if you’d want to see a movie with me.” At first I
think she might not answer me, and then I see the twinkle in her eyes and see
her swallow her water. Maybe I should have chosen a better moment.

“What movie?” The way she asks it makes it sound as if my
decision on the movie will determine her decision to go with me. I think about
for half a second before I see what this is.

“Any movie you’d like to see.” I tell her with a wicked
grin. Anastasia chuckles and pops a fry into her mouth. I don’t know if it’s to
make me feel the suspense or if she’s trying to make up her mind. I’m starting
to get sweaty palms.

“Alright, I want to see a sappy romance where the guy gets
the girl.”

“Done.” As we’re cleaning up dinner, her hip brushes me here
and there in the small kitchenette. I feel her arm brush across mine as she’s
putting away the chips. Each time we make contact, her body flushes in that
spot and her cheeks become rosier. As she’s putting away her half drained
bottle of water, I reach in behind her to put mine away.

Just the barest of touches makes her warm, and she turns
around while my hand is on the fridge handle and the other is against the
counter. I can feel her hot breath across my neck, and try to remind myself
that we haven’t gone on the actual date yet. But her next words seem to erase
my reasoning.

“Do you think we could just skip the date, and go right for
the goodnight kiss?” I pull away about two inches, which feels too far and look
down to see if she’s serious. I don’t think a person could look more serious
than this.

“I guess we could, but what if I don’t want it to be
goodnight?” Anastasia reads directly through my words to the meaning, and I
feel the air between us growing warmer. I can tell she doesn’t know where to
put her hands, so I pull mine away from their positions and take hers.

She lets me pull her up onto her tiptoes as I wrap her arms
around my neck, and I give her a goodnight kiss she’s sure to never forget. It
doesn’t start out chaste like in the trunk. This one is just like the time we
were in the farmhouse, and I mean to take advantage of the entire situation.
Tom doesn’t interject into my thoughts anymore, not even when I was in the
trunk. The medication appears to be working.

Having her arms around my neck is not enough, so I put my
hands on her waist and pull her up so that she’s plastered against the shelves
of the open fridge. It’s not until the alarm starts to go off that I realize
where we’re at and what we’re doing. Anastasia ignores the sound, but it’s
ruining my vibe. So I pull her away and close the door with my foot and lift
her up onto the kitchenette countertop.

Automatically, her legs are wrapping around my middle as I
pull her to me. I tear away from her lips to explore her neck, pulling her head
back with my hand in her hair. The other hand is busily trying to unsnap her
bra under her shirt. The damn things are much trickier when I’m distracted.

The material finally loosens, and she almost protests when I
start to pull off her shirt. It’s not because of the fact that she’s on the
countertop. She’s protesting because I’m going to see all of her if I have my
way, and that means I’ll see all the scars right along with the flawless flesh.
I pull away far enough that I can look into her eyes, and slide my hand up
under the front of her shirt.

“You’re more beautiful to me than anything on this planet.”
She still looks unsure, and gasps when my hand finally palms her breast.
Despite the way her eyes read hesitation, I can feel the evidence of her want
against my palm.

“You haven’t seen the worst yet.” She warns me in a quiet
voice. I let my other hand fall away from her hair and remove the one from her
chest. Her breath catches in her throat when I pull the shirt up over her head.
Next is her bra, and they both hit the kitchen floor.

“You’ll let me know if I’m going too far?” I don’t look at
her, not yet. I couldn’t stomach looking at her before me, wanting if she says
that this is too far.
Please God don’t say it’s too far.

“You won’t.” I’m not sure what that means in this moment,
but I take it as an affirmative to keep going. So I grip my hand in her hair
again like I thought of the first time I saw her, and I take her mouth with
mine gently at first. I’m trying to gauge her reaction to see if this is too
far for her, but it’s obviously not. So I push her back so that she’s leaning
with her hands behind her, and then I explore her neck.

I wait until she’s breathing quickly and her skin is hot to
the touch before I run my hands over her breasts again. The peaks of her
nipples brush against my flesh, and then she’s sitting up. I’m afraid she’s
going to tell me that this is far enough, but she’s reaching down to pull my
shirt off. It hits the floor with  her clothes, and I decide this is going to
move to the bedroom.

“Oh!” She laughs when I pull her back to me and put my hands
on her bottom, gripping her tight. I’m sure that she can feel how badly I want
her right now, and I like the way she involuntarily moves against me as I carry
her back to my room.

I pay attention to her breasts, ignoring the scars running
across them and down her stomach. Some of them are deep and look as if they
were extremely painful when they were self-inflicted, but I’m paying more
attention to the fact that she’s starting to wriggle under my touch. Her back
arches when I take her nipple into my mouth and suckle hard.

“Jonah,” She says, but it’s not to get me to stop. Her hands
are trying to unbutton my jeans, but I pull them away and hold them above her
head. When I look down into her eyes, I see complete trust staring back at me.
When I kiss her again, tenderly, it’s to erase everything that was ever done to
her at the hands of another.

I admit, when I shimmy off her jeans and her underwear, I
pause long enough that she looks unsure. A person really must hate themselves
to cut their inner thighs. I run my nose over the silky flesh and then my
tongue. Enjoying the teasing, I slip my hands up to brush across her scarred
breasts again. I’ll never let her hurt herself as she did again. Not in a
million years.

When I find her soft core, she shivers and almost melts into
the mattress as I blow across the swollen flesh. I want to know every inch of
her, so I don’t take her with my mouth just yet. I pull away with a grin on my
lips and gently roll her over, exploring the back of her legs and memorizing
where she giggles and where she sighs when I kiss. My jean clad hips roll
across her bottom as I explore the back of her neck, and then I pull her up a
few inches off the bed and massage her nipples again until they’re as hard as
little pebbles.

“You’re driving me crazy!” She mumbles with a laugh against
the pillow, and then gasps when I pinch one of her nipples hard enough to have
her bucking against me.

“Yeah? Which kind of crazy?” I ask her with a smile. I blow
on her earlobe and take it into my teeth. She doesn’t get a chance to answer
me.

I roll her onto her back again and gently pull apart her
legs. She’s ready for much more than my teasing tongue, but I want this last
forever. I lap and pull at her until she’s calling out partials of my name.
Then I make her do it over and over again until she finally gets it out fully.
Her entire body is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat by the time I pull
away from her. I flick my tongue over each nipple, and she moans beneath me as
if she can’t take anymore.