by Rob Horner
Travis let out an appreciative whistle as he entered, carrying the bags he’d retrieved from the Focus after completing check-in. Sherry wasted no time in such meaningless sounds, instead rushing to the bed, where she indulged in a childish display of playfulness by jumping backward onto the firm, yet deliciously resilient, surface.
Travis smiled at her spectacle yet made no move to join her. Letting her mind reach into his, she discovered the reason for his hesitancy. He wanted to have all their other business concluded first. And as much as Sherry was impatient to have him in her arms, she knew his decision to wait was the correct one.
“I could go with you,” Travis offered, drawing Sherry from her thoughts about the room.
Smiling, Sherry took the bags from Travis’s hands. “And waste all that wonderful time pining for me?” she asked lightly, grazing his lips with a soft kiss. “No, no, my dear Travis. You absolutely must spend the appropriate amount of time missing me.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, eh?”
“Exactly. Besides, if you get everything you want right away, you’ll be nothing more than a spoiled brat, completely unruly.”
“As if you haven’t already given me more than I could ever have hoped for,” he replied softly. His every statement sounded like pure poetry, and Sherry felt she might burst from the simple joy that filled her.
Good. I’ll try my best to keep you feeling that way, Travis thought to her.
“Uh uh,” Sherry said, still smiling, “no thought-speak in here. Deal?”
“I…sure,” Travis answered after a moment’s pause.
“Good. Because you’re doing more than enough with your words to win me, without adding your thoughts into the bargain.”
Following her to the glowing dressers, where Sherry set their purchases, Travis placed his hands on her shoulders. The contact was electrifying, even without the doubling of her vision and the appearance of the lines. His hands were strong but gentle, exerting no pressure except on her heart, which forced her to turn to face him.
“Do you mean that?” he asked, staring into her eyes. And those poetic fools always said brown eyes were the most arresting. His eyes seemed to glow in the light, like a cat’s, piercing her to the core and driving her rational thoughts away. All she could concentrate on was his nearness, the raw attraction she felt for him, which emanated not only from her body, but from something deep inside of her.
“More than I’ve ever meant anything,” she replied in a whisper. She was released from his gaze as he closed his eyes, only to be captured a moment later by the power of his kiss, which lit every nerve in her body, making her move closer to him, pressing her body to his. Sherry was aware of his arousal even through the thick fabric of his jeans, though that sensation did nothing but make her want him even more.
Yet Travis was a man of his values. He didn’t press his attack but instead released her—not without a gentle caress of his hand across her left cheek—so they might go about the separate errands they had set themselves.
Flustered, blushing, Sherry didn’t turn away from his eyes but met them directly, hoping he was as arrested by hers as she was by his. Judging by his reluctance to turn away, she guessed he was.
Who wouldn’t be arrested by sapphire eyes?
But he did turn away, pretending to be interested in his perusal of the room. Sherry had to exert an enormous amount of self-control to keep from reading his thoughts.
Reaching for her purse, Sherry told herself the trembling in her hands was excitement and nervousness about calling her mother. Opening the top, she retrieved the small piece of paper she’d written her mother’s new phone number on. Stuffing it into the front pocket of her jeans—firmly reminding herself not to forget its location—she turned back to Travis, who was just emerging from his inspection of the bathroom.
“Would you mind if I—”
“Borrow my car?” he asked with a smile.
“Hey!” Sherry protested. “You promised.”
“Don’t worry,” he replied, smiling. “I didn’t read your thoughts.”
“I…you didn’t?”
“No, it’s just that I know you can’t call your mother from the room, or from anywhere near here. I know how smart you are, and you’ve already figured that out for yourself. So, of course you need the car to get far enough away from the hotel to be able to successfully divert any phone-tappers…or something like that.”
“Good phraseology,” Sherry mumbled.
“Why thank you,” he replied with a small bow, which made Sherry smile all the wider. “Now then, can you drive a stick?”
“When I was learning to drive, my mom made me practice with my granddad’s old ‘86 Dodge Colt,” Sherry replied. “I think I can remember the basics.”
“Just look at the gear shift pattern on the shifter before you start. I think the Colt was a four-speed, and reverse was to the right and down. Mine is a six-speed, so reverse is toward you and up.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Sherry said, smiling.
“All right then,” Travis said, reaching into his pocket for his key ring. Pulling it free, he held it dangling in the air. Still smiling, he said, “You know what they say about a woman who drives a man’s car?”
“I…no, what do they say?” Sherry asked, honestly puzzled, though she figured some humorously sexist remark was forthcoming.
“I don’t know,” Travis replied, confusing Sherry even further. “I just hoped they did say something that you might know, which would ensure me a good time later tonight.”
Sherry stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. Laughing with her, Travis came to put his arms around her, embracing her at the same time he slid his keys into her hand.
“Be careful,” he said softly, and Sherry didn’t need to read his thoughts to know he didn’t care about the car.
“I will,” she replied.
2
By four-fifteen p.m., according to the in-dash clock in the Focus, Sherry was pulling out of the Highcastle’s parking lot, amazed at the quiet power of the small car and its sensitive handling. It was infinitely better than the sluggish responsiveness and slow pick-up of her Nissan, and Sherry found herself appreciating Travis for his taste. There was so much to appreciate about him, she thought. If they’d met under different circumstances, they’d still be drawn to each other.
As if anything could have kept them apart, she thought with a smile. She’d been doing a lot of that lately. Ever since she and Travis met face to face that morning, her features had been stretched with happy emotions. And after only a few hours! She smiled again to think how weary her facial muscles were going to be after days or weeks, maybe even after months, of being around Travis.
She didn’t dare think in terms of years, not yet. It wasn’t that she doubted their compatibility. It was more of a superstition. She feared if she began planning for the future, something would happen to rob her of him. So, she had to be careful with her thoughts and keep a restraining lid on her dreams.
But that didn’t mean she had to leash her happiness. No, she decided to enjoy it as much as possible, especially because it might be taken from her.
With that thought in mind, she pulled onto Atlantic Avenue, heading north towards Fort Story. She had no intention of setting foot on the Army base, or any other government property, but the route gave her time to think and plan.
Shifting smoothly into the left lane—the right led onto the base—she followed the curve of the road as it trended to the west. If she stayed on Shore Drive, she knew, she would eventually leave Virginia Beach for Norfolk, entering the area known as Ocean View. She had no need to go that far. About five miles up Shore Drive was another small tourist area called Chick’s Beach.
This was another strip of beachfront with a glut of chain hotels congregated in a small area, which would make a phone call originating from the location seem rational. With any luck, a surveillance team wouldn’t question the call’s origin and would focus a
ny search efforts in the area. Even if they didn’t fall for the ruse completely, they’d have to investigate, and there were two dozen hotels in and around Chick’s Beach.
Sherry smiled at her cleverness as she spotted the first lights of the tourist area. A brightly lit sign, glowing green, red, and white, called her attention to another matter she wanted to take care of. Flushing at her daring, she pulled the Focus into the right-hand lane, slowing for a turn into the parking lot of a busy convenience store. Feeling in her pockets, Sherry felt the two pieces of paper she’d brought with her. One of them, a ten-dollar bill she’d stashed away for this exact reason when she received her change in Kohl’s, would pay for the intended product as well as a cup of coffee to soothe her nerves.
Despite that she’d planned this little stop, she couldn’t keep her hands from trembling or her heart from fluttering. Taking a deep breath, she slipped the gear shift into first, killed the engine, and went into the bright store.
3
“That all, miss?” the clerk asked, indicating the large cup of coffee in front of the ginger-haired young woman.
“Uh, no.”
“What else?”
“I…uh—” The customer’s nervousness was almost funny, though she’d seen worse in other people. “A box of condoms, please.”
“What kind?”
The young lady’s face froze. “I…um—” The clerk noticed her bright blue eyes scanning the racks behind her. “Trojan,” she said, picking out the one brand name she recognized.
“Must be a special occasion,” the clerk remarked, feeling a small measure of sympathy for the young woman. She enjoyed torturing the young men, since most of them came in only because they knew they wouldn’t get what they wanted if they weren’t prepared. But this young lady had a different air about her, almost like she was planning to surprise someone.
“Yeah, it is,” she answered softly, her face crimson to her ears, and no one blushes like a ginger. She looked furtively around her, perhaps checking to see if any of the other customers were laughing at her. But all the other faces were a study in practiced indifference, most of them no doubt having been in this same predicament at least once in their lives.
“Hope he’s worth it,” the clerk said, choosing what she thought were the best buy for the money, rather than forcing the young lady to make another decision, something else she enjoyed having the young men do. She almost laughed, remembering one embarrassed youth, who’d run out of the store rather than face this clerk who made him so nervous. But that would be taken wrong by this young woman who was, after all, just being cautious.
“He is,” the ginger-haired girl answered, recovering slightly now that her ordeal was almost over.
“Six forty-five,” the clerk said.
The young lady handed her a creased ten-dollar bill.
Punching keys, the clerk waited until the register’s drawer opened. And three fifty-five is your change,” she concluded.
“Th…thank you,” the young lady replied, hastily shoving the change into the pockets of her tight jeans. Grabbing both coffee and condoms, she turned and hurried from the store.
Ah, the things one sees in a convenience store, the clerk thought, already forgetting the young woman and turning to her next customer.
4
Sherry spent the next several minutes collecting herself in the driver’s seat of the Focus. God, she’d had no idea buying condoms could be so embarrassing. No wonder so many people would rather just take their chances than do the right thing.
Truthfully though, she felt better for having taken the time. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Travis—hell, she could read his every thought! It was more a worry about becoming pregnant.
She didn’t want to worry about another life, not when her own was so precariously balanced. The thought of children was magical to her, as it was to most young women, but it would have to wait.
Besides, of all the things she and Travis had talked about, that was one topic which hadn’t come up. It was just too soon, no matter how deep their connection, to be discussing such things with each other.
It would wait, she decided, until a lot of other things were resolved.
The coffee helped calm her. Despite the natural effects of caffeine, there was something relaxing about the liquid’s heat, the way it spread warmth through her stomach. At least it wasn’t alcohol, she reflected gratefully, which was another of the things she and Travis had in common.
During their mental conversation over lunch she’d learned that, while Travis enjoyed a drink or two when he went out, he never overdid it. He didn’t smoke, which was a habit Sherry couldn’t stand. So many things they shared, so many beliefs they held in common—it was as if they’d been made for each other.
Sherry forced that thought away, afraid because it played so closely to her worries about their programming. What if they literally had been made for each other? True, as Travis pointed out, she’d been assigned a husband, but that one fact couldn’t alleviate all her doubts. Why couldn’t they have met normally, or on eHarmony or some other dating site?
Sighing, Sherry vowed to stop questioning Travis’s seeming perfection. If they were meant to be, they would be. Otherwise, all the worrying and doubting in the world wasn’t going to change things.
Inserting the key in the ignition, Sherry noticed it was almost five. Already the sky to the east was darkening, while the west claimed most of the remaining sun, and Sherry was anxious to be back with Travis before night claimed the world.
Their first night together, she thought giddily. How much sleep would they get?
5
Sherry’s next stop was a nearby Holiday Inn, which she entered in order to use one of their courtesy phones. It was exactly five o’clock. Her mother must be getting worried by now.
Sitting down before a small desk, almost like a telemarketer’s cubicle, she picked up the phone and punched in her mother’s new phone number with only a cursory glance at the piece of paper she’d brought.
The phone was answered on the third ring.
“Hello?” her mother’s voice came through, sounding insecure and worried. God, was that Sherry’s fault? She should’ve called sooner.
“Mom? Hi, it’s me.”
“Sherry? Listen to me. Don’t-worry-about-me-just-stay-away-as-long-as-you—"
The words, spoken in a rush so unlike her mother’s normal pattern of speech, brought Sherry to instant fear. “Mom? What?” Sherry didn’t register the way Victoria’s voice had been cut off mid-sentence.
The next thing she heard was something like a soft scream, more a yelp of surprise than anything else, but it still forced a shout of “Mom!” from Sherry. “Mom? What happened?”
A man’s voice came on the line, deep and commanding, overriding Sherry’s questions with its calm assurance.
“Listen to me, young lady.”
“I…who are you?”
“That’s the kind of question that could get you killed. You and your mother. Do you take my meaning?”
Sherry fought for air in a world that seemed to have lost all capacity to support her survival.
“I’ll take your silence as understanding. We have your mother, but it’s you and your boyfriend we want. And so, I propose a trade.”
“What are you talking about?” Sherry asked, forcing herself to calm down enough to understand what was happening. Her hysteria could wait for later.
“Why, your mother’s life in exchange for you and Travis turning yourselves in.”
“So you can brainwash us again?”
“If that’s what it takes. You really are very important to us, Sherry. In fact, you’re so important that your mother’s life means nothing to me. Though I’m sure it means quite a lot to you.”
What had her mother said? “Stay away as long as she could—” Was she just being protective and heroic? Or was there some other meaning implied in her words? God help her, because Sherry certainly couldn’t sort through h
er own fears and worries with this man breathing so heavily in her ear.
“What…do you want?” Sherry managed to ask.
“Now that’s better. If you cooperate, then everything will be all right.”
“Don’t listen to him!” Victoria shouted from somewhere close to the phone, her voice reaching through the line like a shout through a wall. “They’ll kill me anyway, I—” There was another brief shriek.
“Mom!” Sherry screamed, drawing the attention of everyone in the Holiday Inn lobby.
“Now, I didn’t want to have to do that,” the male voice said softly.
“What did you do to her?”
“Just shut her up, for now. Her rantings are hardly conducive to our reaching an understanding.”
“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll—”
“What? Wish me dead? Let’s be adult about this, Sherry. The only way for you to ensure her safety is to turn yourself in.”
“Just me? Is that all you want?”
The man laughed. “Let me rephrase that. I want both you and Travis. Just one of you isn’t good enough, though I’m sure you’d gladly turn yourself in to spare him. No, it’s both of you, or no deal.”
“Deal?” Sherry caught that one word, hung onto it.
“Yes, Sherry, a deal. I give you my word that if you bring yourself and Travis to me, here, at your mother’s house, then she’ll be allowed to live.”