Honey Babe

by Nikki Bolvair

  “Good.”

  I climbed into the chopper and signaled to the pilot to take me back to the airport. From there, I hopped on a plane to New Mexico.

  The ex-military general, Bane, was top of our list to locate. He turned traitor and disappeared with the military’s secret H-15 serum, a drug that gave soldiers heightened speed, strength, and healing capabilities, along with unique powers. He planned to use the drug to create his own army of super soldiers, and it was our job to find and stop him.

  When I arrived, I discovered a fertility clinic that has recently shut down, equipment inside abandoned. A room in the back held a soiled mattress and stacks of bottled water and food, giving signs that at least one person, if not two, were held prisoner there at one point.

  When I hacked into the computer, the information Bane left behind was slim, but it was him. The files read like a scientific study on how to use the H-15 serum as a miracle drug to get women pregnant. All failed attempts. But was he really failing or was he harvesting fertilized eggs for his super army? His time in New Mexico never showed success, but he found a new city to play into his evil plan.

  From New Mexico, his trail led west.

  I called General Steel. “Arizona, Sir.”

  “Any signs of the girls?”

  I shifted, looking around. “Someone was held here. Maybe two. But they’re not here now.”

  He sighed over the line. “If you find the girls, either one, you bring them in. You find Bane, put a bullet through his head. He’s gone too far.”

  “Will do.”

  Meeting Seth

  Amber

  A little over a year passed without my memory returning. The Jameses took me into their home permanently. Made me one of their own. Early on in my stay, I met the rest of their family, who instantly welcomed me in. All of their children had sweet dispositions modeled after wonderful parents. Such a loving and caring home to grow up in.

  During the year I lived with them, I was able to get a license thanks to Mr. James, who wrestled up some connections. From there on, I took night classes to brush up on my education and got a part-time job at a library where I doubled up on studying and reading.

  I also volunteered weekly at the local food shelter for the homeless and needy. I shared a kinship with them, having been in the same situation once myself. For however long I had been on the streets.

  Over time, I came to the conclusion I was in an abusive relationship. I must've been alone in the world. Probably no family, just trying to get by doing what I had to do. It took me getting hurt to change things. Although I was making assumptions about my past history, it felt somewhat right, the feeling of abandonment.

  Everything in my life was going great. I still lived with the Jameses, helping out with them wherever I could, but I often considered getting a place of my own. I wasn't there yet, but soon.

  Always in the back of my mind, though, I wondered who I was before they found me.

  In an attempt to discover myself, I went to see counselors, and one suggested I keep a box. When items seemed familiar or sparked a memory, I was supposed to place that item in the box. The reasoning behind this was to possibly connect the dots. If I physically couldn't fit something in the box, or I couldn’t afford it, I took a picture.

  So far in the last year, I put my hospital bracelet in the box, a picture of a redhead with blue eyes, and a few other things. Those items sparked feelings within me. Other than that, nothing. I wasn’t even sure Amber was my name. Nothing brought back my memories.

  I also hadn’t held a relationship or been intimate with anyone, despite my healthy appetite for a release. Work at the library kept my mind full of fantasies.

  I started going to the gym the second I was healthy enough to. I had curves, and I was adding more. I needed to get a handle on it. Mrs. James loved to cook, and I loved to eat.

  It didn’t take long to get back in shape, though the love handles didn’t quite go away. My body became strong, my reflexes above average, and my running speed was exceptional. No one else knew, and I kept quiet for fear of being labeled crazy.

  I was on the treadmill at the gym when the most unusual sensation caressed my skin. A throbbing and tingling that flared through my body.

  At first, I thought my body was telling me I pushed myself too far, the fast rush of blood pumping through my limbs causing the sensitivity. Taking it easy on the treadmill, I rested, hoping fate hadn’t caught up to me with a stroke at the gym. But then, I felt a pull and realized it came from the bottom floor, where I glanced and caught a man staring at me. Brown hair with blond streaks and cerulean blue eyes that narrowed in confusion as his mouth pressed into a flat line.

  He wasn’t the only one confused.

  We stood eyeing each other for another minute before he made his way up to the second floor and took the open treadmill right beside mine. I started running again, letting the belt move beneath my feet.

  “Hey,” he greeted, and my cheeks tinted pink.

  I shot him a glance and gave a soft, “Hi,” in return.

  “Haven't seen you here before. You new?”

  I slowly shook my head, shyness creeping up. “No.”

  Did I know him before I lost my memory? And what was this tingling sensation that seemed linked to him? Some sort of connection? Looking at him closely, I wondered if he felt it, too.

  He gave me a grin. “What’s your name?”

  With that grin, my heart squeezed with an unknown emotion I couldn’t shake. “Amber.”

  He stumbled and caught himself. “What?”

  I gave him a side look and started to decrease the speed of my treadmill, planning to get off now that the conversation turned unusual. “I said my name's Amber.”

  The treadmill came to a stop, and I took the small towel I draped over the sidebar, plopping it around my neck.

  He kept jogging. “Amber,” he said slowly, “I’m Seth.”

  The name didn't bring with it a memory, but warmth settled in my stomach all the same. My girly hormones were on high alert.

  “I don't usually do this.” He shyly put his hand behind his neck. “Talk to girls in the gym. It should be a place to work out. It’s weird, though. With you, I couldn't help myself.”

  I smirked then chuckled at the absurdity of the whole situation. “I bet you say that to every girl you try to pick up.”

  “Actually, I don't.” He seemed thoughtful as he glanced out over the gym below before his cerulean blue eyes turned back to mine. “That's the first time I've ever used that line.”

  “Well”—I got off the treadmill—“today that line is not working.”

  “How about tomorrow? Will you be here?” he asked, undeterred as I walked past him.

  “Typically I would be, but I came today instead. It's an off week for me,” I threw over my shoulder.

  “Then, I'll just have to switch my days until I find you.”

  I gave him a wave as I headed toward the gym steps. “Bye, Seth.”

  “I’ll see you again, Amber.”

  I liked that he wanted to see me again. I liked how he was bold about it. Did he think I was too fat? No. He was interested in me. It almost seemed unreal.

  I paused at the top of the stairs. It had been a year since my incident. Maybe it was time to step out of my box and take a leap. I felt a connection to him. Could he be the one? I would never know unless I took a leap of faith.

  Spinning on my heel, I walked back to the treadmills only to find him getting off. He was blotting his neck with a towel and turned my way. His eyes open in surprise to find me there, and a slow grin curled around his lips. He ambled over, oblivious to everyone else in the gym, and stopped in front of me.

  I took a deep breath for encouragement. “You know that Mexican place, just off the 60?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m kinda new to the area.”

  I nodded. “Okay, then. It's called Costa Vida. Want to meet me and eat dinner there, tonight?”

 
; “Yes.” His response came immediately, not an ounce of hesitation.

  I liked that. “Okay. Seven good?”

  “I can do seven.”

  My heart warmed with his quick answers, then he held out a hand. “I think we should shake on it. You know, to seal the date. I wouldn’t want you skipping out on me.”

  Amused, I placed my hand in his large, warm one, and a jolt shot through my whole body, like I’d been burned. I gasped and jerked away.

  He didn't seem surprised.

  “W-what was that?” I demanded, rubbing my hand on my thigh.

  “I must have scuffed my shoes along the carpet. A little static electricity.” He shrugged. “We still good?”

  I shifted from foot to foot, glancing to the side as I considered. It was hard to look at him with all his buffness. At last, I turned back to him and tried not to blush. “Yeah, a sparks a spark, right?”

  Where I held onto my water bottle, he brushed his fingertips along my own, causing the same reaction. “Only if they’re the right ones.”

  I tugged away when what I really wanted to do was explore it and cleared my throat. “Tonight.”

  I turned and made it a few step away before he called out, “Hey, wait.”

  I twisted around.

  He jogged to my side. “Can I get your number?”

  I shook my head. “You'll get that tonight. If you show up.”

  He chuckled. “Alright, I'm holding you to it.”

  I turned and walked down the gym steps, listening to metal clank and the sound of machines running. My heart warmed. I had a date. I had a date with a hunky man at my favorite spot to eat. With a bubble of excitement, I went into the woman's locker room, got my things, showered and changed before I hurried out. I was relieved when I didn’t see him as I left. I didn’t want to hang around in case he changed his mind.

  After the gym, I called my best friend Maria on my way to work at the library. I usually hung out with Maria and Jannie at Pete’s bar, which was owned by James’s son, Pete. While I didn’t drink, I had an addiction. Sarsaparilla, cherry bomb, butterscotch fix. Pete let me indulge and mix his flavors.

  Even though we all hung out, Maria was the one I connected with the most.

  “Eh, yeah?” Her grumpy voice filtered over the line. It was early nearly seven in the morning.

  I winced at having woken her up. “Hey, Maria.”

  “Ugh, it’s seven, chica,” she responded.

  “I know, but something happened.”

  “Oh, hell. You remembered the asshole who screwed you over.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, and we don’t even know if there was an asshole involved or not.”

  “Do we have to go over this again, chica?” The sleep left her voice to be replaced with anger on my behalf. “You were pregnant, beaten, and left for dead. No one came to claim you. It was an asshole.”

  “Fine.”

  She yawned. “So what did you call me for?”

  “I have a date.”

  Silence

  I frowned. “Did you hear me?”

  “I was asking myself that same question,” she mumbled. “Where did you meet him?”

  “Gym.”

  “Was he one of the hot, buff dudes or one of the ones trying to get buff?”

  I wrinkled my nose as I wove through traffic. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re not ready.”

  I laughed. “What? You’re seriously going to tell me not to go based on buff or not?”

  “If he’s buff, he can hurt you. I’d rather you go out with a skinny, smart, going to be rich guy. Someone who will love you and spoil you. Only then would I be okay with the guy.”

  “He’s buff.”

  “Oh, hell, woman.” Maria sighed in resignation. “How buff?”

  The memory of Seth’s broad shoulders stretching the confines of his workout shirt filled my mind. “Boulders.”

  “I just got the shivers. Cute?”

  I blushed. “Fuckin hot.”

  “Damn. You play with him, get all the pent-up tension out of the way, and find yourself a skinny guy with money.” Her voice became firm. “Until then, you call in afterward. Gotta know your safe.”

  Touched by her concern, my hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I suspect Mrs. James will issue that rule as well.”

  Another yawn. “I need to get more sleep. Call me later. Congrats on the date.”

  “Thanks.” As I hung up, I wondered if I was making a mistake.

  Was this really the right thing to do? Was I ready? Well, it didn't matter. I made the date. I issued a ‘no cell phone giving’ policy, so I couldn’t call to back out even if I wanted to. I didn't want to back out, but now, with a clear head, my thoughts raced with possibilities.

  ***

  As I worked, and the day wore on, I dismissed my worries. I’d be fine.

  When I arrived home, I found Mrs. James in the kitchen cooking dinner. I dropped off my bag in the chair beside the couch and entered the kitchen where whatever she was cooking smelled divine.

  “Hey, dear,” she greeted me cheerfully. “How was your day at the library?”

  “Good.” I plopped into the barstool across from her.

  She nodded to some mail on the counter. “There’s a few things for you in there.”

  I leaned over and shuffled through the stack, taking out letters addressed to me. I paused on a red, card stock advertisement about a new fertility clinic in the area. For some reason, it struck a cord within me. It was the wording,or maybe the picture they used. Either way, it was going in my amnesia box.

  I lifted it up. “Okay if I take this?”

  She glanced at it. “Of course, dear. Why on earth would I need something like that? Going in your box?”

  “Um-hm. Something about it seems familiar.” I set it aside and peered over to see what she was making. The glass casserole dish showed layered cheese and tortillas. “Chicken enchiladas for tonight? Yum, but I kind of have a date.”

  She paused in the process of spreading the cheese on top of the tortillas in the dish, her eyes shooting to mine. “A date?” Her lips curled into a smile. “Well, who is it? Is it that young man I introduced you to a few weeks ago? He was such a pleasant man.”

  I laughed. “You’re talking about Frank, the guy who loved my nail color and asked what chapstick I use? Um, no. Last I heard, he and Henry have hit it off.”

  She stared at me with a blank expression before shrugging. “Well, he seemed to be into you.”

  “Yeah, into my style, not my body.”

  “So, tell me who you have a date with, then?”

  “Someone I met at the gym.” Hopping off the stool to go get ready, I added, “I picked Costa Vida. Lots of people and great food.”

  Worry filled her face. “This is a good step in the right direction, but I wish you would've considered someone you know first. Someone we know. Someone safe.”

  My enthusiasm diminished. She was talking about how I had come to live with them. “We kinda connected.” I eased, trying not to make a big deal out of it so she wouldn’t feel bad about all the other men she sent my way that didn’t work out. “I really like him so far.”

  This was a constant discussion between us. Mrs. James tried to set me up with several sons of her friends, but I was twenty—well, at least, that's what it said on my driver’s license—I still had time, right?

  Mrs. James knew I was one to take things carefully and nodded. “Well, if you feel like that, then good for you.” She walked over and gave me a hug. “We just worry for you, hun. You know that. Just be careful. I want you to have your phone on you at all times, and I want to you to call when you get there, and I want you to call when you leave.”

  I agreed, knowing the routine.

  Mr. James was very strict about safety, especially after what happened to me. Maybe being retired from the Navy had some play in it. He had all his children do the same thing with their dates. I rem
embered the stories they shared with me.

  In my room, I didn't bother changing. My dark wash jeans and green blouse were enough for the library, and it would do for a dinner date. I wasn't really there to impress, just to get to know him, right? I bit my lip, glancing at the array of clothes in my closet. Was I making the right decision?

  Going with my original plan, I squirted on some perfume, wrapped a bracelet Mrs. James gave me last year around my wrist, then swiped on some lip gloss and fluffed up my blond hair.

  Peeking at my phone, I rustled up my purse and things, headed out of my room, and waved goodbye to Mrs. James.

  “Remember the rule!” she reminded me.

  “I will!”

  Date

  Amber

  After arriving at the restaurant a little bit late, I sent a text to Mrs. James to let her know I made it. When I got out of the car, that tingling sensation from earlier in the day drew me to where Seth waited outside, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. He changed from his workout gear into faded jeans and a black button-up shirt. Spotting me, he shifted to stand and waited until I drew near before he opened the front door to the restaurant.

  He greeted me with, “Something smells good.”

  “This is my favorite place,” I answered as we went to wait in line.

  “You had me worried there. For a second, I thought you might not show.”

  I turned to him, embarrassed. “Sorry, it seemed like I hit every red light on the way here.”

  “No worries.” He put a hand on my back and turned me around as the line moved forward. “I’m just glad I was wrong. What do you usually eat here?”

  I felt bad he was leading with all of the questions. What would Maria think? She said things like they were, but that was Maria. It was what I loved about her. Honesty.

  When his hand left my back, I felt the loss of his touch and concern filled me at how much I liked it. He stood so close to my back that the heat from his body seeped into my own. The tingling sensation dulled to a simmer.

  “Hey, Amber?”

  I blinked out of my musings, embarrassed once again. “Sorry, I was thinking.” It took me a moment to remember his question, and I glanced up at the menu on the sidewall. “I usually get the pork burrito, smothered. I can never eat it all, but I save the other half for lunch the next day.”