The Stranger Beside Me (3 page)

When he kissed her forehead again, Jo looked up into his eyes. She moved her lips towards his, then waited for him to make the next move. He hesitated. Not for the first time, Jo wondered what he was thinking. He’d said they’d been intimate before. Surely, he wouldn’t hesitate to be intimate with her again?

Jo pressed her lips to his lightly, then pulled away. She tried to remember the feeling, but her mind was blank. When his soft lips met her, the sensation felt entirely new.

“Jo…” he whispered.

She didn’t wait to hear the rest of what he had to say. She kissed him deeply. He ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the long red strands in knots. She pulled away from him, teasingly. She wanted him to take her. This time he didn’t hesitate.

John drew her face close to his and kissed her hard. Jo felt his tongue brush across her mouth. She bit his lower lip playfully.

He rolled on top of her. The weight of his body was instantly familiar and new at the same time.

Jo pulled his shirt over his head and was greeted by thick muscles and lightly tanned skin.

She ran her hands through his chest hair and down his abs. On his right side, a long scar cut across his waist and continued down his back. Jo traced it with her finger. She couldn’t imagine the sort of injury that would leave such a severe wound. He looked as if he’d nearly been cut in two.

John took her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her fingertips sweetly, then pressed her hand against the bed. His fingers interlocked with hers as he began to kiss her lips again.

Jo quickly forgot the strange scars. She felt her robe fall loose as John untied it. She lay beneath him completely exposed. He’d seen her naked before, but appearing nude in front of him now filled her with excitement and a feverish rush of anticipation.

John surveyed every inch of her body with his lips. Starting at her breasts, he kissed and gently pulled her nipples between his teeth. Jo arched her back and bit her lip.

His tongue ran around her areola, over her nipple and around her breast. He kissed her stomach gently.

A low giggle escaped her mouth. The way his lips lightly touched her skin tickled.

She could feel his hot breath on her lower stomach as he moved between her legs. He kissed the inside of her thighs. When he ran his tongue over her clit, Jo moaned.

She lifted her leg over his shoulder. John kissed and explored the most intimate part of her body with his tongue, while Jo writhed on the bed.

A deep warmth spread throughout her body; chills shot up and down her spine. She closed her eyes and let her body guide her. Her hips moved against him; her fingers found there way to his hair. She pulled it roughly.

Then, he was above her. Jo spread her legs wide. She was wet and ready for him. His hard cock entered her quickly. He cut through her like a hot knife. His eyes met hers as he entered her again and again.

His cock was thick, almost too big for her. It hit her g-spot perfectly.

Jo ran her nails down his back.

“Faster,” she cried.

His hard shoulders tensed and flexed as he moved in and out of her. A small drop of sweat ran down his chest and fell on her breasts.

His thrusts came harder and harder.

Jo arched her back and cried out.

John collapsed on top of her. They both breathed heavily, exhausted by the exertion.

“Nick,” Jo purred.

John looked up.

“What?” he said.

“What?” Jo asked, unaware of what she’d just said.

“You called me Nick.”

“Nick?” The name was unfamiliar to her. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“You don’t remember anyone by that name,” he corrected her.

John rolled off of her and ran his hands through his hair and over his face.

“Do you know someone named Nick?” Jo asked.

His answer was interrupted by the sound of a car approaching the house.

“Shit,” John said. “Get dressed.”

Jo scrambled to find her clothes. They were still damp with lake water. She shook them out and dressed quickly.

John fled the room and returned with the duffel bag full of guns. He handed her the shotgun.

“It’s easiest to use,” he said. “Just point and squeeze the trigger. It’s hard to miss with one of these.”

“I can’t,” Jo said. “I can’t kill someone.”

John paused. “You already have.”

Jo felt her throat close; her stomach swam. “What do you mean?”

John turned his back to her and headed down the hall.

“What do you mean?” she yelled after him.

He didn’t answer. What had she done in her previous life to warrant this response? It wasn’t just the men determined to kill her she found troubling, but John as well. He was holding back the full story from her, and he always had one eye trained on her whereabouts.

At times he seemed more suspicious of her, than she was of him. Maybe he has a good reason to be suspicious, she thought. According to John, she’d killed before. Jo couldn’t imagine killing someone, unless it was self-defense. Even if she had to choose between her own life and someone else’s, it would still be a difficult decision.

The sound of a second car approaching the house brought her back to reality. Whoever was coming, they weren’t friendly.

Jo swallowed hard. She could taste lake water in her mouth. The memory of being submerged in cold water overtook her. She began to shake.

Jo closed her eyes, took a deep breath and held it. She had to prepare herself for the fight to come. When she opened her eyes John was standing in front of her.

“Are you ready?” he asked. Jo nodded. “Good, I want you to-”

The crackle of a loudspeaker cut off his words. “John, I know you’re in there with her.

Release her to our care and we’ll let you walk away.”

“C’mon,” John said to Jo. He grabbed her hand and led her down the stairs to the first floor.

“Wait! You’re not handing me over!”

“Of course, not. I just don’t want to be trapped upstairs. Now listen, I want you to do as I say.”

He led her to a corner of the room and pushed her down to the floor. “Stay here. If anyone comes around this corner, shoot them.”

John kissed her hard, then turned and left without looking back. Jo looked down at the shotgun. She held it so tightly, her hands shook. She took a deep breath and waited.

“John, you don’t want to do this,” the voice over the loudspeaker said. “Are you really going to die for this girl? Some traitor?”

“You want her, come and get her,” John responded.

Jo saw a shadow pass in front of the window to her right. They were sending men around the back of the house. She hoped John had a plan to get them out of this. The odds didn’t look good. They were completely surrounded.

“I’ll give you to the count of ten,” the voice said.

A side door to her right slowly opened.

“One.”

A figure tiptoed inside. He hadn’t spotted Jo yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“Two.”

She raised the gun. Her finger found the trigger, but she couldn’t make herself squeeze.

“Three.”

The man caught sight of her. He lunged at her, pushing her gun away. Then something unexpected happened. Jo’s mind cleared. The cloud of fear and doubt lifted. It was as if a switch had been flipped. Her body reacted viciously. She head-butted the man, then grabbed his arm as he staggered back. She forced him to the ground and pulled hard on his wrist. She felt his shoulder dislocate.

He began to scream. Jo picked up the shotgun and hit him on the back of the head with it.

The man fell silent.

Jo crouched back in the corner, marveling at what she’d done. She’d taken down the man efficiently and expertly. Where had she learned to fight like that? She wondered. She looked down at her hands. They no longer shook.

She peeked around the corner, looking for John, but he was nowhere in sight. A shot rang out, then another. Had the man reached ten, yet? She wondered absently. She hadn’t been paying attention.

The sound of gunfire was deafening. To her surprise, it sounded as if it was all taking place outside. Had John snuck out and attacked them?

He’d told her not to move, but this could be an opportunity for her to flee out the back.

Just as she attempted to rise to her feet, a stray bullet passed inches in front of her face.

She quickly crouched back down in the corner and decided to wait for John.

“Stop!” a voice cried. “We’ve got him.”

The gun fire ceased. By him, did they mean John? she thought frantically. She looked around the corner. The house was silent.

“We’ve captured your friend,” the voice said. “It’s time to surrender.”

Jo’s mind raced. Could she escape through the woods? The forest was dense. It went on for miles. And, as far as she knew, she didn’t have the kind of survival skills you needed to live off the land in harsh conditions.

“If you do not surrender,” the voice continued, “we will execute him.”

“Shit,” Jo said. She was out of options.

“I gave you to the count of ten before. I’m not feeling so generous now. You have to the count of three, then I kill him.”

“Don’t do it,” John yelled. “You have to-”

John was quickly silenced. She hadn’t heard a gunshot so she assumed he was still alive.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I give up.”

She put down the gun and lifted her hands. She rose and made for the front of the house.

“I’m coming out,” she shouted. “I give up.”

The front door was open. When she passed out into the daylight, the first thing she noticed were several dead bodies. They were men dressed similarly to the man she’d taken out in her hiding space.

At least John was able to take a couple of the bastards out before he was captured, she thought. The idea jarred her. It sounded like someone else’s voice in her head. Was the old Jo coming back?

“Alison.”

Jo looked up sharply. A handsome man with short hair and a knowing smile stepped towards her. Jo stopped in her tracks when she saw him. It was the soldier from her memory. She felt dizzy.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

Suddenly, the world went dark and Jo was back at the bottom of the icy cold lake.

~

“Alison… Alison, wake up.”

Jo woke with a start. The room was gloomy. If not for a small window, she would be submerged in darkness. It was night. What little light she had was cast by a large full moon in the window. The light was an eerie orange color. It reminded her of Halloween.

Harvest moon, she thought, bad omen.

Long shadows danced across the floor and ceiling. Jo looked up. A large fan rotated slowly above her bed. The room resembled a cell. The ceiling was stained; paint peeled from the walls.

Where was she? She wondered. And whose voice had she heard? Was it in her head? Jo tried to lift her arms. She was strapped to a bed without a mattress. She laid on top of rusted box springs that cut into her skin painfully. Long white strips of cloth bound her wrist to the springs. She pulled and fought against them, but they wouldn’t give.

“That won’t work,” a voice said.

Jo froze. She squinted into the dark, but the room was empty.

“God, I really am going crazy,” she said out loud.

“Down here.”

A flash of movement caught her eye. A girl’s fingers poked out of a small grate in the corner of the room.

“Can you see me?” the girl asked.

“I- yes, I think so. Where are you?”

“I’m in the room next door. They’re holding me prisoner, like you.”

“Who are you?”

A high pitched giggle echoed and reverberated throughout the room. It gave Jo the chills.

“Alison, please, don’t play.”

“I’m not Alison.”

The girl laughed harder. “Oookkaaay,” she drew the word out in a way that made her sound very young, like a thirteen year old girl gossiping on her cell phone.

“Nick is so pissed at you.”

Nick, Jo thought. She reasoned that Nick was the soldier from her memory; the man she called out for in bed with John.

“Who’s Nick?”

The girl laughed mockingly. “The act’s not funny anymore, Alison. Just tell them where you hid it.”

“Hid what?”

“Who? What? Where? When? Why? You don’t know much, do you? Look,” she said

growing frustrated, “it would be easier if you just told me what you know.”

Could she trust this girl with her story? She wondered. No, she thought, she couldn’t; but she had nothing to lose. So, Jo told her everything. Starting at the lake and skipping over her intimate encounter with John, she relayed her story to this young girl.

“That’s it,” Jo said. “That’s all I remember.”

“Hmm, that was pretty detailed. I mean, you’re clever enough to come up with a good cover story, but not that clever.”

Jo ignored the insult. “You knew me before?”

“Again, with the questions. Yeah, I knew you.” The girl hesitated. “We used to work together.”

Jo didn’t know what to say to that. She had a feeling the girl was locked up because of something she’d done. “Tell me about our work.”

“Work… well, work was fun- for a while. We made lots of money, got rid of a few douche bags, made more money, then…” She trailed off. “Why don’t you answer some of my questions for a change?” she said, changing the subject. “Tell me about that guy you were with.”

“He’s just a guy I met.”

“Mm-hmm. You know how I know you’re lying? Because every bit of your story was painfully detailed, except for the part about your mystery man.”

The girl might have been young, but she was perceptive.

“We used to work together, apparently.”

“I didn’t recognize him.”

“You saw him? Where?” Jo grew excited; John was still alive.

“Earlier, they carried him past my little cage here.”

“Carried? Was he dead?”

She heard the girl sigh. “No, he was alive. You seriously care about this guy, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The ease with which her answer came surprised her. Jo did care about him, even if they had a history.

“So the two of you have been sleeping together for a while, eh?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jo said.