Unchained Memory (The Interstellar Rescue Series Book 1)

by Donna S. Frelick

  “Hey, good lookin’. You want some company in there?” Her amber eyes sparkled. She was irresistible. And thank God he no longer had to try.

  He held out a hand to her and pulled her in under the hot shower, laughing as she giggled and sputtered under the spray. He gathered her to him and took the force of the water on his back so he could tip her face back and kiss her. Her lips parted to receive him, and his tongue slipped inside to caress and explore and tease her sweet mouth. He could have gone on kissing her forever, while the water pounded down and his heart pumped blood into his growing erection. But he retreated at last, with a lingering pull at her lower lip.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “Oh, my God,” she murmured. “You are like some kind of drug.” She pushed back from him just enough for the water to hit her body. Then she reached for the soap. She began at his chest, rubbing the slippery square of cheap motel soap across his skin, working up the lather with her hands, licking and nibbling at his taut nipples once the water had rinsed him clean. Then she turned him around and repeated the process on his back, down his legs—he held his breath as she skimmed the scars on his ravaged right leg, but she didn’t pause and he relaxed again—and his buttocks.

  She turned him back to face her and began on his belly, his thighs and—Jesus Christ!—he was so fucking hard he was this close to coming! Her hands were between his legs and they were warm and slick and wet and slippery and squeezing him tight just like she did when he was inside and it was all he could do to keep from letting go, but she whispered, “Not yet,” and he held on.

  Asia handed him the soap and smiled. Then, because the shower was running into her face, she turned her back to him. With a shock, he saw again the jagged scar ripping across her shoulder blade, saw clearly in the glaring light of the bathroom how cruelly the skin had been torn, how deeply the muscle had been gouged, in how many places the bone had been broken. And he saw something else.

  Higher up, on the nape her neck, was another, smaller, rectangular scar, one similar in shape to a scar he’d seen on a patient years before. One of his first patients, and another of those he’d failed to help. He stopped breathing, and the soap slipped from his hands.

  Asia laughed and stooped to fish it out of the bottom of the tub. “Hey, I’m not falling for that old trick.” She handed the tiny square back to Ethan. “I want the full sensual treatment, mister, just like you got.”

  He laughed softly and put his questions on hold. She was beautiful, she wanted him, and he was still hard enough to hammer nails. Everything else could wait. He began with her back, took special pleasure in working the lather over her perfect, heart-shaped ass. Then he leaned her body back against his and slathered the creamy foam down from her luscious breasts to her thighs and worked it between her legs with both hands until she whimpered with the same need she had created in him.

  He wanted her now and the hot water continued to flow, so he gave no thought to moving to the bed. When the soap had been rinsed away, he turned her toward him and in one smooth movement, joined them. The position was awkward, perhaps even precarious, but it didn’t matter. Her core was liquid fire, already closing on him in orgasm. He gripped her buttocks, pulled her into him and drove hard and deep into her yielding center. Asia arched up into him, lost and crying out in desperate pleasure. He rode it out with her, giving her the sweet-hot friction and satisfying penetration she needed, until it all became too much for him and he came, shuddering, spilling what was left of his seed after a long night of love deep inside her.

  He stood motionless for a few shaky breaths, his heartbeat slowing, the tension of need falling from his muscles like the water. He looked down into Asia’s upturned face, still caught in the transcendently beautiful moment of orgasm, lips parted and eyes closed, her skin wet and glowing. He bent to kiss her, just touching the tip of his tongue to hers. He felt her breath as she sighed.

  “You know, I have never been loved the way you’ve loved me.” Her eyes were still closed, as if she was savoring something sweet. “Never in all my life.” She took a deep breath, then she smiled and looked up at him. “But I have to say this is enough for a while. Any more and I won’t be able to walk.”

  Ethan laughed and moved at last, slipping from her warm body and releasing her. “I’m not sure, but I think that was more sex in one night than I’ve had in three years.”

  Asia giggled. “Aw, now, that’s just a damn shame. All that gorgeous manhood gone to waste.” She pulled him in and gave him a quick, teasing kiss. “Now, go on. A girl needs some privacy, after all. And would you grab my overnight bag out of the other room for me? God, this feels terrific. I can’t believe there’s still some hot water.”

  Grinning, he rinsed efficiently and stepped out of the shower into the steamy bathroom. He dried off with one of the coarse, too-small motel towels from the stack over the toilet, pleased that despite the shower the slight trace of Asia’s scent still lingered on his skin. He snagged another towel to wrap around his hips and went to retrieve her bag from the next room.

  “What the hell are you hauling in here, girl?” He hefted the bag, curious. “Thing weighs a ton.”

  She answered him from behind the shower curtain. “Oh, you know, the usual—breaking and entering tools, gold bullion, spare refrigerator.”

  “Good thing you left the jet engine at home.”

  “It was just a weekend trip.”

  Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this lighthearted, this—he almost couldn’t recognize the feeling—playful. He hadn’t always been grim and serious, had he? No. But once Elizabeth became part of his life, playtime was over. She’d sneered at his so-called immaturity until he stopped bothering to tease or joke and eventually rarely smiled. She’d liked him better that way—“brooding and dark.”

  He shook his head to clear it of painful memories as he padded back into the bedroom and reached for his clothes. He got dressed and had just finished tying his boots when someone knocked at the door.

  The hair rose on the back of Ethan’s neck. There was no reason for it—the knock was probably just housekeeping. Still . . . He heard the shower stop, so he stepped to the bathroom door and warned Asia in a low voice, “Hey, there’s someone at the door. I’m going to get it.”

  “Sure.”

  The knock came again, louder this time. Ethan was even less inclined to answer it, but the logical part of his mind refused to let his fear win the argument. He looked out the peephole. Nothing. He took a breath and unlocked the door.

  Two men slammed in through the entry. “What the fuck?” he shouted as the charge knocked him backward. Somehow he kept his feet, but then they were on him in a maelstrom of fists and elbows and knees. He lashed out and clipped one of his attackers on the chin. Blinding pain exploded as rough knuckles connected with his cheek, his temple, his ribs. He tasted blood.

  Someone tried to pin his arms, and he grappled with him, twisting first right, then left. He caught the bastard in the nose with an elbow and heard a grunt. It wasn’t just his blood flying now. The man’s partner barreled into him, and all three catapulted into the bedside table. Ethan’s hand closed on the lamp, and he smashed it into the side of the little guy’s face. The man collapsed, moaning, but his friend kept coming, driving Ethan to the floor with a punishing knee to the ribs. He heard a snarled “motherfucker,” before the bastard punched him twice across the face and ended it.

  Stunned and sick, Ethan had no defense as the man swung toward him with something sharp and shiny. It jabbed into the top of Ethan’s shoulder, sending a hot burn up his neck. He fought for consciousness in the time he had left.

  His blood roared in his ears. A fall of heavy snow descended over his vision. Still Ethan struggled, twisting under the big man’s weight until the man pushed off him without a word and stood up. He dropped the injector and backed away, his hands held out away from his body, his face full of angry surprise.

  Ethan stared blearily up at him
. What the hell?

  “I said get away from him, you sonofabitch.” I held the gun as steady as I could, given all the adrenaline that was running through my system.

  Everything had happened so fast, I’d barely had time to pull a tee-shirt over my head, put a mag in the gun and get my ass out of the bathroom in time to be of any use.

  “Back against the wall.” My voice shook. I tried hard to put some steel in it. “Now.”

  The asshole grinned at me. “Now, honey, you ain’t gonna shoot me, are you?”

  “Wanna find out?” I slipped off the safety and made sure a bullet was in the chamber. He lost his grin and settled back against the wall. I spared a glance at his companion, still napping under a blanket of broken glass from the lamp Ethan had shattered over his head.

  Ethan rolled to his hands and knees and grinned lopsidedly up at me. “Guess I know what’s in that bag now.” He started to collapse back down on his face and caught himself with one arm. “Close the door.”

  I did what he said, instinct telling me my next question wouldn’t be the right one. “Shouldn’t we be calling the cops?”

  “No.” With considerable effort, Ethan grasped at some device on the floor. The man against the wall squirmed. “This-s-s no robbery.” He stared muzzily at the thing in his hand. “Fucker drugged me. Lasts four-five hours.” He blinked, wavered. “Use . . . use it. Drive. She’s not safe.” And he was out. Just like that, leaving me alone with two guys who looked like they might have stepped out of one of Ida Mickens’s paperbacks.

  Asshole Number One grinned again. “Well, well, little lady. Looks like it’s just me and you.” He started to move.

  “Don’t.” I lifted the gun to point to his right eye. I was steadier now, despite the breath heaving in my chest. “I grew up in the country. My daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little bitty thing, and I’ve been around guns all my life. Still, it wouldn’t take much for this thing to just go off in my hand, you know.”

  He glared, but it seemed like he believed me. He sank back again.

  “Your boyfriend’s crazy, you know. You should call the cops.”

  Why did I have the feeling I was talking to Br’er Rabbit, wanting me to throw him in the briar patch? I glanced at the phone.

  The thug kept talking. “Yeah. Go ahead. We should get all this sorted out. I mean, he barely gave us a chance to explain before he started swinging.”

  “Uh-huh. And this?” I took the device from Ethan’s slack hand and scanned it. There were three ampules left in the grip of what was apparently an injector.

  “Just a little insurance. We needed you to come with us.”

  “Why?”

  “Sorry. That’s classified.”

  “Right. You got a badge or anything?” The bastard wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I made up my mind. Badge or no badge, I wasn’t inclined to let the police sort out this mystery. There was a reason Ethan didn’t want the police involved, though I was damned if I could figure it out at the moment, and I was going with what he’d told me.

  With a little investigation, I could probably have figured out how to load the injector and use it, but I saved myself the trouble. I slid it across the floor to my captive.

  “Load ‘er up, doc.”

  He glanced up at me, running the scenarios.

  I shook my head. “Ah-ah, easy does it. I don’t think you can cross the room before I can pull this trigger, do you? Just show me how it’s done.”

  When he was done loading one of the ampules, I praised him. “Good. Now inject yourself.”

  “What? You think I’m nuts?”

  I raised the gun again. “No, I think you’d rather go to sleep and wake up embarrassed than get your ass shot and not wake up at all. But first, I don’t guess you’d like to tell me who hired you?”

  “Fuck you.”

  It figured that my lame tough-guy routine wouldn’t work on this tough guy. He seemed like the real deal. I gave it up with a shrug.

  “Okay, I’m waiting.”

  He didn’t move.

  Recognizing a showdown when I saw one, I took a step and pointed the gun at his left eye. “Officer, these two men broke into our room, they attacked me, my boyfriend tried to defend me. I only shot the man in self-defense—”

  “Okay, okay, shut the fuck up.” He glared at me, then raised the injector to his neck and squeezed the trigger. He was out within seconds.

  After I made sure he was truly unconscious, I took the injector from his hand, reloaded it and used it on his partner. I had to roll the man over to reach the right spot on his neck and as I did, a set of handcuffs fell out of his pocket. I looked from one slumbering body to another and weighed my options. It would require a lot of heavy lifting, but it would be worth it for the sheer evil fun of it, not to mention the head start it would give us to leave the two thugs handcuffed to the plumbing. I set to work.

  An hour later, the boys were stashed under the sink, there was a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door, and I had informed the Front Desk that we’d be using one room an extra night, just charge it to the same credit card, please. Frank at the Front Desk was happy to oblige.

  I stretched poor Ethan out in the passenger seat of the BMW with a pillow, a blanket, and a couple of ice packs for his bruises and drove to the outskirts of town before I pulled off the road to get breakfast. It had been a rigorous night and an eventful morning, and I was ravenous. I parked where I could watch the car, went inside, and ordered the Farmhouse Breakfast with black coffee, stat.

  “Drive,” he’d said. “She’s not safe.” What was that supposed to mean? Who the hell were these goons anyway? What did they want? Ethan sure didn’t look like the kind of guy who owed the wrong people money. I tried really considering that and found myself smiling. No, not a chance.

  So, if they weren’t after him, they had to be after me. Shit. Ice slid down my spinal column and froze it in place. That guy in the white Impala—I’d never been close enough to really get a look at him, but it hardly mattered anyway. This was all part of the same puzzle.

  And, oh, my God! “She’s not safe.” Oh, my God, Ida’s not safe! We had something in common, though it made no sense to any of us. Her visions hadn’t been anything like my dreams. Except . . . whatever we saw was not of this Earth. And Ethan was convinced we weren’t crazy. Maybe these guys worked for someone who thought the same thing. They’d been dressed alike in identical cheap suits, so I’d already started thinking of them as the Men in Black. Now it didn’t seem very damn funny.

  My breakfast arrived, and I made quick work of it—eggs, grits, bacon, biscuits, and all. I swallowed the last of my third cup of coffee and called for the waitress.

  “Hey, could you wrap up a couple of ham biscuits to go, please? And I’ll take the check.”

  “Well, somebody’s hungry this morning.” She grinned. “Are we eatin’ for two, honey?”

  A fist squeezed my suddenly tender heart. I swallowed hard and tried for a sigh of resignation.

  “My boyfriend’s sleeping one off in the car. He’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

  “Oh, okay.” She winked at me and whisked off to get what I’d asked for.

  One thing I knew for sure. If we were going up to Clay Fork today, we wouldn’t be getting back to Nashville tonight. That meant I wouldn’t be at work Monday morning. I dug out my phone to call Rita.

  I put on my best girlfriend voice when I heard her pick up. “Hey, girl, what you doin’?”

  “Well, that ain’t hardly the question, is it?” There was laughter in her familiar voice. “If you’re calling me on a Sunday morning when you’re supposed to be on a hot weekend out of town, either things are going real good with you and Dr. Dreamy or they’re going real bad. Which is it?”

  “I’m just calling to say I won’t be in to work tomorrow. I’m, uh—cough, cough—not feeling well.”

  “I knew it!” Rita screamed with laughter. “Yeah, you’re sick all right and that hot doc has got
the cure for what ails ya, hasn’t he?”

  “You better believe it.” That much of the story was true, at least. “It’s not going to put you out too much if I take an extra day, is it?”

  “Hell, no. I’ll cover for you with JW. You should be good until Wednesday, anyway, when those guys come in from L.A. Take your time. Have some fun. You sure do deserve it, honey.”

  “Thanks, Rita, I appreciate it. I hate to ask, but could you stop by the apartment on your way to work and check on JJ? He should have plenty of food, but he likes the attention.”

  “Oh, he’s my boy. I’ll be glad to do it.”

  “And, hey, by the way, if anybody comes by the office looking for me, could you maybe put them off and give me a call?”

  “Anybody like who?” I could practically hear Rita’s hackles rise. “Don’t tell me this guy turned out to be married.”

  “Oh, hell, no, nothing like that.” My life was never that simple. “I’m just a little late on my car payment is all. You know how those guys can be.”

  “Oh, I getcha.” She sounded relieved now. “I’ll take care of ’em.”

  “Rita, you are the best.”

  “I know. Say hi to Handsome for me—and don’t hurt yourself!”

  “Oh, believe me, it don’t hurt a bit. Bye, sweetie.”

  Rita was still laughing when the phone clicked off. I brushed off the guilt I felt at lying to her—much better for her to know I was knocking boots with Ethan than to worry about me being knocked in the head by some goon, at least for now.

  The waitress came back with my biscuits to go and the check. I paid for the food and went back out into the gray drizzle of late morning. I checked on Ethan, still motionless and pale in the side seat of the BMW. Then I slipped behind the wheel of the car and drove like hell back up into the mountains.

  Two hours later I was closing in on Clay Fork and I really had to take a bathroom break. I was getting worried about Ethan. He hadn’t moved from the position I’d put him in three hours before, despite the curves in the road and the approach of the supposed four-hour limit on the sedative he’d gotten. And there was the matter of the little red needle pushing “E” on the gas gauge.