No Time To Dream

by Treva Harte

  That wasn't his idea of marriage. Maybe he really did think marriage should happen because you were in love.

  Did he love her then?

  He'd been careful not to tell her that particular lie. He felt more for her than anyone he knew. But was that love?

  Whatever his feelings were, it was important to have her with him. Maybe marriage was the way he should handle it. Somehow he had messed things up—hell, what could she think if he acted like a sex maniac one day and tried to be a choir boy the next? She had a right to be mad and confused.

  She just couldn't stay mad. He couldn't stand it if that happened. Marriage was the honorable thing to do and, in this case, the honorable thing might also get her back.

  But what about the future? What if he hurt her even more than he had tonight?

  What if she hurt him again the way she had tonight?

  God, had he been backing away from her, not just for her sake but for his own?

  He'd always had her around, one way or another, all his life. If this didn't work, they could never go back to friendship. The bleakness of life without Jen was unimaginable. She was the only thing that had kept him going sometimes.

  She and her family would be gone if this didn't work. She and what was now his family. All or nothing.

  For an instant he remembered Victor laughing at him back in high school and saying those words in his easiest, most dangerous voice.

  He and Victor had met just recently back then and were testing each other's moves on the basketball court before the basketball tryouts. They had been about the same height even then, but Victor knew how to make his legs and arms work to his advantage. Jack hadn't played the American game of basketball in his European boarding schools and still hadn't really gotten the hang of it. But he wasn't going to let the new kid show him up.

  There were some seniors at the other end of the basketball court, ones who had already made the basketball team, hooting a little and offering rude suggestions. Both he and Victor had ignored them until Jen came in. She was a freshman, a little uncertain as to whether she belonged among the older boys. She walked up to Jack, who paused in the game. Truthfully, he had been glad of the excuse to catch his breath. Victor made you work for your points.

  "Hi, Jack." Jen greeted him in a soft voice. She glanced over at Victor and quickly glanced back at Jack. "I have a favor to ask. Could I get a ride back with you from school? I have some stuff to do for the yearbook. Would that be OK?"

  Jack put his skinny body between her and the catcalling seniors who had fallen silent for an ominous minute while they looked at her.

  "Yeah, sure," he said. "You know where the car is. I'll wait if you aren't there."

  "Thanks." Jen looked quickly at Victor again. "Hey, you're looking good. Both of you. Hope you make the team."

  She strolled out. Even then she had looked sexy in blue jeans. Her face got a little red at some of the calls from the older boys, but she ignored them until one reached out and grabbed her arm.

  "Hey, don't waste your time with them, little girl," he leered. "With a body like that, who needs little boys? Why don't you try hanging out with a real man?"

  Jen tried to jerk her arm away. Jack's head snapped up. He would have rather died than admit it, but his stomach knotted in fear. Most of the seniors weren't too much taller than he was, but they had a lot more muscle and weight. Still, he knew what he had to do, especially when the senior wouldn't let her go.

  "Leave her alone, Williams." Jack was grateful that his voice didn't crack.

  "Oh? Why?"

  "Or I'll make you leave her alone." Jack prayed that his years of karate would actually work for him.

  "Oh, this is terrifying. Euro trash boy is going to hurt me!" the senior said in a falsetto voice.

  Victor, without a word, pulled on his black leather jacket and placed himself next to Jack. Jen pulled away as the seniors, sensing more interesting prey, moved toward the two boys. Jack swallowed. He had been laughed at, shoved around some, and generally been given a hard time since he had started school here. He knew he didn't fit in. But if he backed down now, his life would be hell.

  More importantly, he knew he'd never be able to look Jennifer in the eyes again.

  "Hey, bean-eater, this isn't your fight. Why don't you run back on home?" one of the seniors yelled.

  "This isn't about you, Ruiz." Jack tried to sound firm. "I can handle it alone."

  Yeah. Right.

  "All or nothing, Logan. I'm in. Are you?"

  The two of them didn't do too badly. They managed to mark up a few of the older guys and not get their butts whipped before Jen found a coach to break it up. They'd had a huge lecture in the principal's office but the seniors were briefly banned from basketball practice.

  After that Jack had decided he wouldn't be on the same team with those guys even if he was paid to do it. Victor, being Victor, preferred to make the other guys pay. He went ahead and joined and then proceeded to hustle his way into being made the most valuable player on the team.

  He missed Victor.

  Someone knocked tentatively at the door. It was too late at night for it to be anyone but Jennifer. Jack jumped out of the easy chair and shoved the box in his pocket.

  But when he opened the door, he saw a rather rumpled, queasy-looking Molly. A surly man stood on the porch behind her, with his arms crossed.

  She looked pleadingly at him. "I'm sorry, Jack. Could you pay for the cab? I left my purse in the bar and I was afraid to go back in when I saw the police coming in—"

  "What?" Jack's hand automatically went to his back pocket where his wallet was.

  "I expect you'll be getting a call from the police station soon," Molly told him in a subdued voice. "I'm pretty sure they arrested Jen and Cee Cee—I saw Cee Cee slap one officer as they hustled them out and he handcuffed her."

  "What?" He paid the driver.

  "But look on the bright side, Jack. If I hadn't been throwing up beer outside, I would've been arrested and there would be all kinds of trouble for giving beer to a minor."

  On cue, the telephone rang. Jack marched to the phone. This should be a very interesting explanation.

  "Jeez, Jen, I think we solved your problem for you," Molly whispered in Jennifer's ear from the back seat. "Jack doesn't seem too remote now. He looks ready to murder all of us. But he looks a little different with you. I think he's ready to take you to bed first and then murder you."

  "Oh God, I hope he didn't hear that," Jen said.

  Jack turned sharply and stared at them both before giving a mirthless laugh. He slammed the car door shut as he climbed into the driver's seat. Jen knew that as overjoyed as she had been when Jack arrived to pick them up from the police station, her happiness might have been premature.

  "I plan to spank her first, then take her to bed and, after I get my energy back, murder all of you," he told them. "Or maybe I should just spank all of you."

  "Spank me first," Cee Cee murmured, still a little drunk and very amused, from the back seat. "Molly and I never get any fun, Daddy."

  Jen covered her face with her hands.

  "It's a wonder your parents lived long enough to see you all into puberty. Cee Cee, you are aware that resisting arrest upped your bail considerably? I'm just hoping that I can talk to enough people, including the bar owner, to get the charges dropped."

  "Jim—that's the bar owner—likes me," Cee Cee was unconcerned. "I can talk to him if you want. He'll probably forget the whole thing if you pay him for the damages."

  "If Jack pays—" Jen began.

  "Well, I don't have the money." Cee Cee now sounded very reasonable. "None of the rest of us has that kind of money."

  "Of course, assaulting the police will make it that much more difficult." Jack continued as if Cecilia hadn't spoken. "I may have to start using my father's old friendship with the police chief. I would really hate to have to do that."

  "But that—uh—that policeman was rude," Cee Cee said. "Stop sound
ing like a lawyer, Jack. Not that I don't appreciate the help and all."

  "We all appreciate it," Jen gave it her best I-am-the-big-sister-and-I-am-in-charge voice. "I'm sorry we had to drag you out at night like this. It—it has been quite an evening."

  The rest of the drive was ominously quiet. Once they got home, Jack opened the door for them all.

  "Girls, take a couple of aspirin and drink some water before you pass out. It may help with the hangover tomorrow. I speak from past, sad experience. And girls, pay Mrs. Jessup. Here's some cash. The poor woman must be exhausted. Jen, you and I have a little something to finish."

  "Thanks." Cee Cee gave him a kiss on the cheek before she strolled into the house. Molly followed behind, still looking a little green.

  Jack turned to Jennifer.

  "Jack, please. I really don't feel well," Jen got out. "I'm not used to drinking as much as I did—or being held in jail waiting for a lawyer."

  "Are you feeling a little less mad at me?" Jack asked.

  "I'm feeling more grateful to you and embarrassed about my own behavior than mad," Jen swallowed hard. "I'll have to talk to the girls, especially Molly. I don't know what made me drag her into it. That was tremendously irresponsible of me. I was just so hurt and angry and I needed to talk, to do something crazy for a change—"

  "Hey, I think you were crazy enough to make up for at least a couple of years of being a good girl." Jack smoothed some hair from her face. "I guess I had something to do with it. I know I made you mad. Shall we split the blame and start over?"

  For an answer, Jen put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  "You really are there for me, aren't you?" she asked. "Even when you want to wring my neck, you stand by me."

  "I'll try to always do that," he said. "But I won't be there for you tomorrow—no, early this morning. Since I won't be getting enough sleep anyhow, d'you want to come home with me and make sure I don't get any before I leave? Maybe you'll let me spank you after all?"

  They walked back to the house arm in arm.

  When they got inside, Jack scooped her up.

  "What?" Jen asked.

  She was placed over Jack's lap. His hand swept up her tiny skirt.

  "It really is a nice butt." Jen shivered as his hand stroked her. "Round, tempting."

  "Are you going to spank me, Jack?" Jen wasn't sure what she thought about the idea. As his hand stroked her again, lingering against her crotch, she shivered again. Maybe she liked it.

  The phone's ring made them both jump. Jack's finger didn't stop as it pressed against her clit. Jen shifted her weight, knowing he was staring at her butt and everything else she had exposed.

  The phone rang again.

  "Fuck off. Why doesn't the damn machine pick it up?" Jack muttered as he pinched her butt cheeks.

  Jen jumped and then very deliberately squirmed against him. His erection was already poking at her.

  "Are you going to do it or not, Jack?" she taunted. She wasn't sure which answer she wanted, but she could feel herself getting wet.

  "Logan?" A crisp male voice sounded through the voice message machine.

  Jack's hand stopped.

  "Damn!" Jack muttered. "I was enjoying this."

  Me, too.

  But Jack slid her gently away before he went to answer the call. Jen sniffed. He might dismiss her, but she was going to rattle his cage a little.

  "I might be even naughtier later," Jen whispered. "You probably should spank me. I deserve it."

  His eyes turned hot as he stood, his ear to the receiver. He opened his mouth. Then she saw his face set as he listened.

  "Go ahead, Jen," he told her. "I'll be there shortly."

  "I thought this couldn't wait until morning," George Instone said.

  "You found something?"

  "Someone found something. I have a source who says they want seventy thousand dollars for information."

  "What information?"

  "The source won't say. But, as I said, they have something. I have a jacket of his, the one you had described to me. Beat up black leather bomber. It has blood on it. The tests say it's Ruiz's blood."

  "Seventy thousand wasn't our original deal. Is that for him alive or dead?"

  "I don't know. We had to pay a few thousand for the jacket. We're still discussing what more we get for our money. Besides, it's getting a little more complicated than that. I hear the military is interested. You know that Ruiz was getting close to some story about drug smuggling before the 'copter crashed. The military would like to know more, too. They can be damned secretive. I think they may be blocking the flow of information."

  "You know I'll pay it if we can find out more."

  "I thought I knew that. And I'll find out more. I decided you'd want to know this much anyhow."

  "Yes. Thanks."

  Jack hung up and glanced upstairs. What the hell should he tell Jen? He thought about her, a little buzzed and mortified still, but ready to kiss and make up. He had nothing useful to tell her and he wasn't sure he could right now. Her reaction would be the icing on a very bad day.

  Probably that made him a coward. He took the first step up the stairs. When they knew more—knew anything besides a jacket of Vic's still existed—he would tell her. Victor was probably dead. Instone would know more soon and then he would say something. But not tonight.

  He felt the box in his coat pocket. It was just as well he had put off the idea of a proposal, too. Victor was probably gone forever but—what if he wasn't?

  Jack took the second step up the stairs. Yeah, he was a weak coward, no doubt about it. But he was going to be with Jen now.

  On the third step, Jack paused. He owed Jen and Victor both.

  "Jen," he began, softly. "Jen, I have something I need to tell you about that phone call. I want you to brace yourself."

  He'd known something was up when the military closed in on him. At least it was U.S. military, or looked to be. The Indians and the pilot who had gotten him out of the jungle had long since gone. They had seen he was "escorted," if that was the term, to the Brazilian capital and then dumped in a house with guards. That had puzzled him. It looked like the choice between ransom and death might be coming around again, just when he thought he was safe.

  At least he had been in Brazil rather than Colombia. That seemed marginally safer.

  As he learned soon after, Ramón hadn't been slick enough for the U.S. government. Someone had warned the powers that be that he might be alive and that the call to the embassy about a reward for his return could be expected.

  What he hadn't expected was to be interrogated afterwards by the military that was involved in joint anti-drug operations with the Colombian government. The U.S. soldiers were close-mouthed, but they were obviously interested in what he knew about the drug trade, even if he had been out of touch for over a year. Maybe they thought he had staged the crash and was in on what was going on with the smugglers. Maybe they were just fishing for information. The military sure seemed to imply that it wasn't an accident the helicopter had crashed. He didn't doubt it, but he still couldn't remember much from just before the accident, when he hit his head. The medical personnel who checked him over assured him that was a normal problem.

  Unfortunately, folks didn't want to believe that was why he couldn't tell them much about what he had seen. When the military was done, the DEA wanted a turn to ask questions. He figured the CIA and maybe some other acronymed agencies would give it a try next.

  Even on the plane going back to a hospital in the States, Victor realized he was being guarded. Sure, he had managed to keep the last few rolls of film he had shot before going down, and he had managed to get them out with him. They’d show some interesting sights once they were developed. He wasn't sure that was reason enough to keep him locked up and unable to communicate with anyone. So far no one seemed too anxious to let him use a telephone. He knew at some point the military and all the other official types, who kept trying to pry names and places of
drug caches he had seen, would have to give up. It was all old news.

  The faces in the photos must be what they found so interesting. Well, they were welcome to them if they'd just let him loose.

  On the other hand, he wasn't sure he wanted to communicate with anyone. He had a seriously injured leg, one that might not be worth keeping. If that happened, maybe it also wasn't worth telling anyone he was actually still alive.

  Most particularly, maybe it wasn't worth telling Jen. He wanted to be a complete man when he saw her again. He didn't need her to stay with him so she could wait on him and pity him for the rest of his life. He wanted things as they always had been. He would be the one in control of the situation.

  All or nothing.

  There was only one problem with that attitude. The possibility of nothing kept him awake at night, sweating. He couldn't sleep at night any more, much less dream.

  Jen sat up, rubbing her head. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she needed to talk to a shrink. She didn't want these dreams. She was over Vic. She'd made up her mind. Vic was gone, dead, no longer part of her life.

  It must have been Jack telling her about the found jacket that had started things up again.

  Damn it! Why'd Jack told her? Even if that was what had triggered the new dream, why did she have to keep having these new and strange dreams? This one had been less vivid, less intense, but still there.

  If she couldn't stop dreaming this, she'd do the next best thing. She would lie to Jack, to anyone if she had to. She'd tell them it had stopped.

  The dreams meant nothing to her any more. Nothing. She was sick of them! The new dreams, the old dreams—they had to end.

  She'd half-encouraged them in the past, trying to hold on to Victor. Not any more. She'd take drugs to make her sleep, she'd try hypnosis. She'd will them to stop bothering her. Please. Please let it be that she would will them away.

  Chapter Six

  The day didn't start out well. Jen woke up to discover that Jack had not only changed Vicky and given her a bottle, but he'd turned off the alarm clock. Vicky had settled back in for a snooze and let her mother sleep late.