I'll Remember You (Hell Yeah!) (16 page)

He didn’t respond to her. Instead, he glared at the woman who he considered to be his greatest enemy. “You won’t get away with this. My brothers will find you.”

All of this was getting to Martina, because she sneered at Aron. “They haven’t found you, yet. And you’ve been missing for over a month. Perhaps you are dead to them.”

“I’d rather be dead than have anything to do with you,” Aron spat out the words. He’d pulled so hard at the ropes binding his wrist that blood was running down his fingers.

“Are you in pain?” Emily asked, touching his shoulder.

“What does it matter?” He didn’t take his eyes off Martina. “There’s no telling what she’s done to me already.”

“I think it would be better if you left us.” Emily told Martina, giving her a meaningful look. “He has to be calm for this pain medication to be effective.” When no one moved, she tried again. “You can guard both exits. There is no other way out of the lab.”

“All right.” Martina motioned for the guards to go before her.

Emily stood up, following them to the door, then she turned to see the big man hunched in the chair, his head bowed. She debated on how to play this. There was no doubt she had to give him the drugs, her life depended on it. But she could be merciful. She decided to play both ends against the middle. Having her cake and eating it too was something she had always wanted to do. Lord, she could have looked at this man forever. He was truly a handsome specimen. But it wasn’t because of his looks she wanted to help him. Oh, that might have played a small role, but she liked to think it didn’t. No dog deserved to be treated this way. “I’m going to give you something to take those headaches away.” That much was true. One of the injections would be a dose of steroids laced with mannitol to reduce the swelling in his brain. But the other would be the cocktail to harness his memories. For a season at least.

Aron followed her movements. “Help me get out of here.”

She grimaced at him and got close enough he could hear her whisper. “You know as well as I do what those people are capable of. Our only hope is to cooperate, or at least pretend to.”

She could tell Aron was considering her words. “Why am I having so much pain? Is it normal?”

She considered her answer. Piling one more lie on her list of sins wasn’t her first choice, but she could give him information, even though she wasn’t a medical doctor. “It is not uncommon and your stress levels have aggravated the situation.”

“I have never experienced pain like this. At time it’s debilitating.” Aron’s voice changed, almost confiding. “If you could help me, I’d welcome it.”

She took his reasonable tone as permission. Picking up a syringe, she approached him. Lying it down on the table next to him, she reached out to touch him, then drew back. It seemed so personal. When he didn’t jerk away, she rolled up his sleeve high enough for her to be able to give him a shot.

“Just a pinch.” Something she’d heard the pediatrician say to Hadley numerous times. Her son was alive and for that miracle, she owed the Diosa. And now she was betraying her. Actually there were no right answers in this conundrum. With care, she let the drug feed into the strong muscle of his arm. He did not react.

Now, for step two. “You have remembered your past.” She did not ask a question, she stated a fact.

“Yes.”

In order for the Zip elixir to work, she needed for him to speak of what had come into his mind. “You are Aron McCoy of Texas?” She tried to modulate her voice to an easy conversational tone. Not waiting for an answer, she asked another question. “Where in Texas did you live?”

Aron looked over her head as if he were looking at something a great distance away.  “Tebow Ranch is a beautiful place on the Guadalupe River near Kerrville, deep in the heart of Texas.”

“I’ve been to San Antonio.” She smiled. “The River Walk is a very fascinating place.” Discarding the used syringe, she stood to retrieve the other one. “Do you miss your family?” She was attempting to word her questions to sound as little like an inquisition as possible.

“I miss my family. I ache for my wife.” He smiled. “She is the sweetest, most loving woman in the world.”

“What’s her name?” Emily retrieved the syringe filled with Zip and the other elements.

“Libby, her name is Libby.”

She took his arm.

“What are you doing?” He stiffened and drew back.

Emily lowered her voice. “This will save your life and mine.”

“I don’t believe you!” he stage whispered and Emily heard movement in the hall.

“Shush!” she mouthed harshly as she pressed the needle into his flesh. “I have risked my life to preserve your past. This is not permanent. This drug will wear off. Your memory will return.” He tried to pull away, but the ropes that bound him to the chair held steadfast.

“No! No!” he screamed. His shouts brought the others back into the room, but the injection was complete. “You are all insane!” Aron screamed. “I want to go home! I want Libby!”

“Ms. Gadwah, what is amiss?” Martina rushed to their side.

Emily held her breath. If Aron gave her away, she’d be dead before nightfall. “He resisted, Diosa.”

“Did you tell him what you were doing?” She was aghast.

“I had to make him talk or the drug wouldn’t work on the memories you wanted eliminated.”

“Bitches,” Aron barked, but his words weren’t as loud or as clear as they had been. “You’ve drugged me.” He shook his head.

“Yes,” Emily admitted. “There is a relaxant included. It will make the transition easier for you.” Forgetting would be as hard as remembering for Aron McCoy.

“No,” he groaned. “I will not forget.” With every bit of strength and determination he had, Aron desperately tried to hold on to his thoughts. “Libby, my love,” he mourned, whispering her name like a prayer. “I won’t forget. I won’t forget. I will remember you.” The drug began to take hold. Valiantly he fought to keep his eyes open, to keep his mind clear, but a haze began to form, a cloud rose in his mind. It was as if a curtain was falling behind his eyes. “Oh, Libby. I love you, Libby.”

His eyelids drooped and blackness engulfed him.

Emily watched as he tossed and turned, mumbling and thrashing. Guilt tore at her conscience. This drug was not fully tested; all of the ramifications as yet were unknown. Soon, he quieted. Settled down. But he still groaned; a sound full of sorrow and loss. “Libby.” Was the last word he said…

Dreams turned into a nightmare. It was as if everything he held dear was being ripped from his grasp. Visions which had been clear were receding, going farther and farther from his reaching hand. “Aron, please.” The plea of a dear voice seemed to echo through eternity.

“I’ll remember you. I’ll remember you. I promise.” He stared at her until she faded from sight, and when she did, he was left with nothing.

Blankness. Hopelessness. An empty, dark despair.

Chapter Eight

Hardbodies Bar – Kerrville, TX

Isaac put the pedal to the metal. He raced into the wind like there was no tomorrow. Sometimes there was just nothing else to do but ride his Harley as hard and fast as he could. The roar of the engine was almost loud enough to drown out the horrible thoughts racing through his head. When he’d been notified that a bloody, shredded portion of Aron’s wet suit had been found with a piece of bone lodged in the face mask, he had wanted to break something. Was this it? He’d kept his cool and asked how long it would be before DNA tests would either confirm or deny that the remains were Aron. The lab was putting a rush on the work, but the waiting would be almost unbearable.

Putting on his brakes, he slid into the parking lot of Hardbodies. He needed Avery, nothing else would do. Between the DNA tests and finding out Noah wasn’t his full brother, he’d had as much as he could handle. A trip to his dungeon and a chance to lose himself in her sweet submission was all that was going to keep him sane. His church girl was meeting him here, he’d called her.

Cause when his good girl was bad, there was nothing any better in the whole damn world.

“Hey, Badass, Sir.” Her sweet voice ran over his senses like sugar cane syrup. Just the thought of loving on Avery gave him a hard-on the size of a Louisville slugger.

Lord, she had dressed up for him. All black, a halter dress, cut short with heels that made her legs look a mile long. “Inside, now,” he growled at her. They went in the back to his private domain and when the light hit her body, he saw she had dusted herself with that vanilla flavored body glitter which drove him mad. She would shimmer for him—his favorite place to lick the powder off her body was those succulent, bouncy tits. God Almighty!

He started shedding clothes. Avery went ahead of him and he followed, tossing his leather jacket, vest, leather pants, and motorcycle boots. The clink of chains sounded loudly as they hit the floor. She knew right where she was going. She had been there before. In fact, she loved it, he could tell. And Isaac hadn’t touched another woman since the day Avery had waltzed into this bar and informed him she had decided the bad-boy of Kerr County was the right man for the preacher’s daughter.

And when he flipped on the light and started walking down the stairs, the sight below him caused his heart to stop. She was on her knees in front of him, head bowed, her legs spread with her hands behind her back. “Sweet Jesus.” Would he ever tire of looking at her? Touching her? Loving her? Not in this lifetime.

“Stand up.” She did.

“Strip.” She reached down to the hem of her dress and slipped it over her head. And there she stood—lush, curvy, hour-glass perfect and all his. “Beautiful.” Her nipples were already tightly puckered, so hard and distended he couldn’t help but reach out and rub them. A whimper of gratitude whispered from her lips. His Avery loved to have her tits touched and sucked. He could make her cum just from playing with her breasts, and he did it, often. Some night, they’d sit and watch television on the couch, or it would start out that way. But he would put his head in her lap after a bit, undo her shirt and while she tried to watch one of those lifetime movies, he would mold and shape and fondle and suck those gorgeous mounds until she was moaning. Oh, she never left him out...her hand would stray down to his cock and she would massage him through his pants until they couldn’t stand it another moment and he would tear off her clothes and bury his dick deep into her pussy, trying to slake the lust that rose between them several times a day. She was his woman, his submissive, soon to be his wife, and he would die for her in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Her body was perfection, from that wealth of dark hair which spiraled in big bouncy curls to her tiny waist, to generous hips, the face of Aphrodite, and the prettiest, pink pussy in the world. “Command me, Master.”

A rumble of approval rose from his chest and he stepped up to her close, so he could feel her bottom pressing against him from breast to thigh. “Not tonight.” He needed her too much. With one powerful movement, he put his arm beneath her knees, swept her up and walked over to the king size bed. Laying her down, he gave her one more directive. “Watch me, eyes on me.”

Like she could look anywhere else. He didn’t have a clue how much she loved him. Oh, yea, he felt loved, but he didn’t know she worshiped him, adored him, would give herself over to any manner of punishment to save him one moment of heartache. This thing with Aron was killing him and she felt so helpless, so desperate to ease his pain. So, whatever he asked, he got. Avery would turn the world upside down for him if she could. “Yes, sir,” she answered, mesmerized, watching him shed the last of his clothing—a pair of briefs which had been straining to bare threads trying to contain his cock. He was beautiful. His chest was twice as wide as hers and covered in slabs of muscles which she could have spent hours tracing and licking. But what lay between his legs was magnificent—long and thick, jutting upward toward his middle with a heavy sac hanging down that she loved to tongue.

To her absolute delight, he stood in front of her and touched himself, weighing his sac, then fisting over his length, pumping once or twice. A sigh of pure longing floated from her lips, making his eyes darken with desire. She wanted to touch him, but that wasn’t to be—not yet. “Hands over your head, Sable.” He called her by her penname and she smiled. The fact she wrote erotic romance turned her man on. He knew he had no reason to be jealous. Isaac McCoy was her inspiration. Every book she’d ever written cast him in a starring role. He came down on top of her, covering her, his body touching her all the way up and down. The sensation made Avery feel faint. She craved to be taken by him anyway he cared, but old-fashioned missionary where he pressed her down into the mattress, let her bare his weight as he powered between her thighs was her absolute favorite. She would do anything for him—and she did—but when he wanted to reward her for good behavior, this is how he took her—hard, deep and all night long.

Covering her mouth with his, they kissed. Mild term. Isaac consumed her, he licked her lips, sucked on the bottom one, teased the seam with his tongue then thrust inside, lapping and caressing the inside of her mouth like it was made of pure candy. “I know what you want.” He smiled a devil-may-care grin, making her quiver. Sitting up over her, straddling her hips, he took her breasts in both of his palms and set out to drive her nuts. Rubbing them with a circular motion, he massaged the nipples, fondling, kneading, lifting, shaping until he had her moaning, lifting her hips, making the sexiest little kitten whimpers he had ever heard. “Are you wet?”

“What do you think?” she said before she thought, then she tried to look repentant, but she giggled and he growled. Sometimes her sub slipped and she let her bad-girl out.

At his raised eyebrow, she lowered her eyes and answered, “Creamy wet.”

“Damn.” He bent over and began sucking at her tits—voracious pulls, mouth wide, chewing on the flesh, tugging at the nipples—first one breast and then the other until she was sobbing his name.

“Open your legs.” He rolled to one side, so he could still suckle from her tits while he slid a hand between her legs and began to massage her vulva, covering the whole thing with his hand, the heel pressing against her clit and two fingers fucking in and out of her pussy. Avery lifted her hips, moaning and begging, needing him more than she needed air.