by Keri Hudson
Bazz turned the corner and walked, turning his ear to hear the footsteps of the other two. But they were still behind him, and getting closer fast. Bazz braced for an attack from behind. He knew Phoebe had clocked him, and that she’d warn him if she could. The footsteps got louder and closer before they walked past, Vinnie saying to Phoebe, “Just keep quiet and keep walking, we’ll be all right.”
Bazz turned and stormed the man. He knew where the gun was and just were to reach. He grabbed Vinnie’s gun hand and gave it a sharp twist, a loud crack punctuated by Vinnie’s grunt before the gun fell out of his hand and to the floor.
Phoebe backed away, but it was a narrow hallway and there wasn’t very far to go. She wasn’t about to run and abandon him, Bazz knew that, even if he felt it might be the smarter move for both of them.
Bazz threw two hard jabs into Vinnie’s face, sending the man staggering back. But he was ready to return the blows, a series of martial arts side kicks driving Bazz back and making the most of the limited space.
Bazz blocked the kicks and finally grabbed Vinnie’s leg. But Vinnie rained down a series of jabs and blows at Bazz’s face, who finally lost his grip on Vinnie’s leg.
In the corner of his eye, Bazz could see Phoebe trying to grab the fallen handgun, though Bazz did not want her to fire it. The gun would bring backup, and that would turn Bazz and Phoebe’s lucky break against them.
Bazz knew why the man was remaining silent and not calling for backup himself. He hoped to make a clean getaway, and had no authorization to take Phoebe out of her cell room to begin with. But that served Bazz’s purposes too, so there was little to think about other than disabling the man, and as soon as possible.
Bazz threw a series of jabs, but the man showed surprising skill and dexterity. Every strike was met and even bettered in some cases. Bazz grabbed Vinnie’s head and smashed it into the hallway wall, but Vinnie reversed the advantage with a hard kick into Bazz’ right knee. Pain shot up his leg and he lost his balance, Vinnie pushing him down and looming over him.
Bazz tried to pull Vinnie’s hands from his throat, but his adversary seemed possessed by some inner rage, a desperation Bazz didn’t expect from a hired thug. Clearly his own commitment to his new life with Phoebe, he was so effectively drawn into her ruse, that he seemed unable or unwilling to let her go.
Vinnie’s fingers pressed into Bazz’s throat, skin rising up on either side, no blood circulating. He looked up at Vinnie, whose eyes were lit up with his rage, more power flowing through him than he could handle.
Bazz considered a shift, just enough to throw his opponent off him. But with a heavy, wet crunch, Vinnie froze, eyes going wide, fingers suddenly losing their strength. Bazz refocused on Phoebe behind Vinnie, the black Colt semi-automatic in her hand. She brought it down again, the butt smashing into the back of Vinnie’s head. That strike sent Vinnie falling forward onto Bazz, dead weight.
Bazz shoved the useless Vinnie out of the way, Phoebe falling into his arms. They locked lips, tongues pressing together to share their mutual relief and gratitude. Bazz knew she’d been afraid for their reunion, for the destiny of their love.
“Oh, thank God,” Phoebe muttered low in her throat as she pulled herself closer to the man she loved. “Thank God thank God thank God—”
But they still had reason to be afraid and uncertain, their futures still a long and traumatic way off, if it would ever come at all.
“Thank God thank God—”
Bazz looked around. “Let’s thank Him later. We’ve got work to do.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Phoebe looked at Bazz with frightened urgency. “What do we do now? We have to get outta here!”
Bazz nodded and glanced around. “They’ve got my blood somewhere in here, and I’ve got to find it, destroy it, burn this whole damn place to the ground. But we’ll get you out, safe in the woods somewhere—”
“If we’re still in Colorado.” Once again, Phoebe’s intelligence and insight hadn’t failed them. It was true that Bazz had been unconscious on that trip, and it seemed Phoebe had too, so neither had any way of knowing how long they’d been out or how far a trip they’d taken. And as Bazz quickly reviewed the facts, it struck him as almost impossible that they would be in Colorado at all.
But he still had to get her out of that facility, at least until Phoebe said, “I’m staying with you, Bazz, no matter what.”
“Phoebe, you know how dangerous it—”
“It’s dangerous for me out there alone, Bazz, you know that too. And you may need my help. I helped with that asshole rapist back there.”
Bazz nodded, but quickly asked, “He didn’t—?”
“No, no, I’m… I’m fine.”
Bazz glanced around and sighed. “All right. Well, there’s not going to be time to search the whole place, obviously. The only real choice is to torch it. I haven’t seen any windows at all, that tells me we’re on the basement floor, maybe the first floor. We torch this and the rest goes up as the place burns.”
“What about the people trapped above?”
There was a long, cruel silence, the reality of their situation wrapping around them and bringing them even closer together.
“Phoebe, this is war, war to the death for all of us. If that DNA gets out, falls into the wrong hands, and it’s already in the wrong hands, that’s the end for everybody and everything on this earth. Anybody here is working on the wrong side. The place could be virtually empty in any case, except for that rat Brandon Malone. And if he dies, well, that’s a fate he’s chosen.”
Phoebe nodded, a steely resolve overtaking her expression. “Let’s burn this sucker down.” Bazz took her hand and led her down the hall.
They prowled down the hall, a series of offices offering little in the way of a good combustible source. There were files to burn, but no ready flame. And a pile of paper wasn’t likely to bring down a building of that size, built of concrete and steel.
They walked a bit further on, another pair of footsteps clicking louder as they approached a perpendicular hallway just a few yards away. Bazz knew by the sound that it was a single pair, one man approaching. Could it be Malone, coming to check on one or both of us? Isn’t he monitoring both rooms?
There was nowhere to duck or hide, and Bazz and Phoebe looked at each other in a moment of quick decision. Bazz pressed his back against the wall around the corner from the perpendicular hallway and jutted his head to indicate what Phoebe’s part would be. She seemed to understand, stepping out where the two hallways met and directly into her enemy’s line of sight.
In another heavy New Jersey accent, the man still unseen to Bazz said to Phoebe, “Hey, where’s Vinnie? You ain’t supposed to be out alone!”
“I know, I... Vinnie was here, but then he... he ran off, and I’m all alone.” Phoebe was clearly pumping up the appearance of her vulnerability, a little girl lost, a damsel in distress. “I don’t know where I should be, I just wanna get back to my room!” She pouted and batted her eyes.
By the quickening footsteps, Bazz knew the man was taking the bait. “What the hell’s goin’ on ova he’e?”
“I’m scared… I think the monster got out!”
Phoebe pointed down the hallway, past where Bazz was waiting in ambush. The footsteps became a run and they approached and turned the corner. As soon as he came into Bazz’s line of sight, he threw a hard punch to send the man snapping hard to the side. He smashed into the far wall of the hallway, stunned, and Bazz attacked again. He could feel residual anger from his fight with Vinnie, surprised at the man’s strength, frustrated by his assault. This time Bazz knew he had to strike fast and hard, a series of pummeling blows to bash into the man’s face again and again. He slid slowly to the floor, Bazz’s punches continuing to drive him into unconsciousness. Bazz picked up the man’s fallen .36 and turned to lead Phoebe further down the hall, every step bringing them closer to destruction, perhaps complete and utter destruction.
Two more pairs of
footsteps walked around the corner in front of them just as Bazz spotted a small office door. He grabbed the knob and pushed it open, ushering Phoebe in quickly and closing the door behind them.
They stood close to each other, standing in complete silence as the men’s footsteps approached.
The first voice Bazz heard was a man’s voice, one of those New Jersey accents. “So you’s in reception.”
The other voice was a woman’s, high and squeaky. “Are you sure we’re supposed to be down here?”
“Oh yeah, I’m like… in charge o’ dis whole place… down here, I mean.”
“Yeah,” the woman said, “I’ll make sure not to ask Mr. Malone about it.”
“Yeah, you just don’t.” They shared a little chuckle and the doorknob turned. “In the meantime, step into my office.”
Bazz looked around, seeing a small closet in the office and ushering Phoebe quickly into it, closing the door behind him just as the office door opened on the other side.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bazz and Phoebe were trapped in a tiny closet with no light, no room behind them. What felt like shelves pushed against Bazz’s back, Phoebe’s back against the closet door separating them from the man and the prey of his seduction.
“Get your ass up here,” he said. A clamor outside that closet door sounded to Bazz like things falling off the desk, the two positioning themselves on it for a riotous fuck. “That’s right, oh yeah… first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you.”
Bazz and Phoebe were pressed against each other, having no choice but to remain still and quiet. But the sexual vibe on the other side of the door was hard to resist, and the proximity to the woman he loved, whom he lusted after with every fiber of his being, was creating a combined effect that Bazz could hardly ignore.
And Phoebe seemed to be sharing his sexual tension, her face looking up at his, her breath hot and sweet, her breasts pushing against his chest. Their bodies melded, his erection growing hard and ready despite the peril around them, or perhaps even because of it.
Phoebe seemed overwhelmed by the moment, and Bazz knew just how she felt. Her hands were quick and eager, finding his chest, hard and strong, his lean and taut belly. Her fine little fist found his huge cock, grabbing hard and squeezing, giving it a little twist and groaning into his lips, a wordless promise of what was to come.
They kissed, passion rising with the urgency and danger of the moment. Hearing the other two begin their coupling infected the little closet with a sexual energy that was impossible to contain. Her legs spread, her breasts heaved, nipples hard against his chest, her hand guiding his manhood to her hot, engorged lips, ready to take him in.
In the small office outside the even smaller closet, more objects fell to the floor and a few moments passed of meek mewing and heavy wood squeaking just a bit in a slow, rhythmic pace.
“That feel good, baby? You like that?”
“Oh yeah, so good…”
Bazz slid slowly up and into Phoebe, her body trembling to take him in. He moved slow, sensual, silent, drawing himself back and then pushing himself in with even strokes. Phoebe clenched down tight, clearly savoring every bit of sweet, slow pressure.
Outside, the man said to his new lover, “You been waitin’ for this, I know you have.”
She gasped, “Yeah… yeah…”
In the closet, the same was true. Bazz had been close to thinking that he’d never be able to have that experience again, that he might lose his Phoebe altogether. And that miracle only ratcheted up his intensity, even if he couldn’t express it with a more fervent pump. He moved deeper and just a bit faster, a taunting temptation for the two of them. But neither could resist the mutual draw, the potency of the moment, their overwhelming chemical attraction to one another.
Bazz had never had such an experience, pressure from outside much stronger than from within. He was already close to coming, that unique moment creating something special and explosive inside him, around him, bonding the two together in what could easily be their last moments together.
“There you go… yeah, take it, take it!”
“Yes, give it to me,” she answered him, “oh, baby, that’s so good, so good!” A wooden creak began to leak up behind them, the desk taking the strain of their slowly heating intercourse.
Bazz increased his pace, faster and deeper, pulling Phoebe closer to him, her breathing becoming faster and hotter in the nape of his neck. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself closer, fingers digging in for an even better grip. Unable to speak or to moan or scream, she could only release that pressure through quiet strength, fingers and lips and arms and legs squeezing tighter with increasing silence and desperation.
“I’m the best,” the man outside the closet said, “tell me I’m the best!” The wooden desk creaked louder and faster to match the pace of their screwing.
“You’re the best, baby,” she gasped, “so good, the b-b-b-b-beeeeeessssst!”
Going in a bit faster and deeper, Bazz held Phoebe closer to prevent her back from banging against the door. Their thrusts grew stronger, harder, deeper, but they held themselves back. This kept them both on the delicate edge between safety and risk, between tension and release, a no-man’s-land that could sustain them forever or destroy them there and then.
“Yeah, baby, yeah,” the man said louder, his voice clenched as if forced through gritted teeth. “Oooooh, fuck yeah!”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh… ” She followed her grunts with a long moan, starting low and rising up from the bottom of her throat to the very top, escalating into a high squeal. Her voice was suddenly muffled, as if his hand were pressing over it.
“Shshshshshshsh, baby, yeah, that’s right, nice and quiet…” A shifting sound shuffled beneath their rising pants, desk squeaking louder and faster. Bazz could imagine her sitting or lying on the desk, the guy railing into her from the desk’s side.
Bazz and Phoebe moved faster, grinding and wriggling and shaking to make the most of their quiet intercourse, knowing the slightest indiscretion could cost them their lives. But the other two were fucking hard, and that energy seemed to be pouring into both Bazz and Phoebe. It was as if the two outside that closet door were speaking for them, both inspiring and expressing their hidden intimacy without even knowing it.
The two outside the closet kept up a furious pace, Bazz and Phoebe keeping up in almost exact sync, Bazz knowing that the two would never be able to hear them above their own reckless intercourse. Bazz could hear their banging, the desk not only squeaking but hitting the wall in sync with their unseen pounding.
Bazz was struck by the recollection of his previous session with Phoebe, their first together. They’d been exposed to the dark wilds around them, the woods and everything and everyone in them free to look at their intercourse, the loving energy passing between them.
There, in that dark closet, they could not be seen, but they could still be heard and be discovered. It was the other side of the same sexy coin, and the risk of it touched Bazz deep in his core. For a man who was rarely at risk, a god in his heaven, Bazz was reminded of just how delicate the balance of life could be, how precious each moment was. It was a delicious reminder, one he’d never forget.
His orgasm was irresistible. It seemed to overwhelm him much as the circumstance had. The pressure of being closed in seemed to increase the pressure of keeping in his own pearlescent package. It was going to explode in Phoebe no matter what he tried. For the first time in his memory, Bazz was not in complete control, and that sensation drove him over the edge. And Phoebe seemed to be reacting the same way, her body starting to quiver and tremble in front of him. She clung tighter, her fingers digging into his back, his own strong hands pulling her closer and pushing himself deeper.
The sense of risk welled up in him, in them both. It only struck Bazz then that he was in hiding then as he’d been in hiding his entire life. Despite his strength and power, he’d always been vulnerable, then more than ever. Love made him ev
en more vulnerable, revealed despite himself.
And he was glad, no longer wanting to remain in the dark but to scream out his love of life, his love of love, his love of Phoebe. He wanted to break free of the decades of repression, to roar out the battle cry of his soul. But that would bring chaos and horror, while Bazz and Phoebe were in the grip of a tightly controlled ecstasy. The conflict and contrast created an overwhelming sensation for Bazz, intellect and instinct colliding, emotion nearly overwhelming his sense of self-control. Suppressing it made it stronger, more explosive when the release was finally expressed, racing down the length of his cock to launch in an incredible explosion.
“That’s it, baby,” the man outside said, “that’ssssss… that’sssssss… ” The banging outside came to a sudden stop, the two lovers reaching a climax to their fucking, and at least the guy was coming.
But in the closet, Bazz and Phoebe’s orgasms burst together, shaking their bodies in that dark silence, energy almost too much for either of them to endure. But she held tight and so did he, the two of them clinging to one another like two lost souls in a world of their own.
Outside, the clamor was replaced by a few bumps and sighs, a chair being pushed across the tile floor.
“Okay,” the girl said, “I have to get back upstairs.”
“Right, good.”
“But... y’know, we’ll talk later.”
Their voices got softer as the door opened and they stepped out. “Yeah, y’know, sure, whatevuh.” He closed the door behind them.
Bazz and Phoebe stood locked together, their own mutual tension loosening slowly. She seemed to know, as Bazz did, that they’d just enjoyed what could well be their last intimate moments together. It could have been a suggestion of what was to come or a warning of what they could both lose. But it had passed in any case, and both knew they still had work to do and destinies to face. After one last luscious moment of silence together, Bazz pushed the closet door open and the two resumed their fight for survival—theirs, and that of the entire human race.