Burn Chapter 11
I come bearing the next chapter of Burn. This wip is rapidly drawing to a close. Whoopie. I feel really good about that. This particular chapter, however, comes with warnings: torture and rape to be specific. Please if that offends you, give this part a miss. It's necessary for the story I'm writing, though, so I couldn't not do it.
Title: Burn
Author: englishblue
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Rape, torture this chapter. Please be advised.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn it!
Summary: It’s a nowhere little town south of the border. You’d think nothing ever happened there. But when passion and obsession collide, all bets are off. They couldn’t keep away from each other. Now Jensen and Jared will have to run for their lives or die for their sins because of it.
Saw this pic by maryano4ka and it's the way I pictured Burn's Jensen. So here he is. God, the man is so pretty.
Chapter 11
The erupting chatter of gunfire sewed a line in the sand near the helicopter. Jared flung himself flat on the ground behind the cover of the SUV’s blocky body, his forearms and elbows scraped raw at the rough landing. The border guards, who had been lounging in their watchtowers until the copter dove onto the road, were shooting at a crouching run on the far side of the fence, shouting for the intruders to drop their weapons. There were at least six of them, their faces painted white in the sun’s glare, khaki uniforms dusted into pale shrouds by the clouds of sand thrown up from the helicopter blades. They were too far away, not even to the inner gate yet that would allow them access to the playing field. Ignoring them as irrelevant, Jared swung his gaze back to the action in front of him.
From where Jared lay, he could see Morgan struggling with Paloma, the woman twisting and kicking under his grip, his gun hand thrown off, but now pointing at Jensen, while he dragged her by the thick braid at the back of her head across the uneven terrain. The noise of the battle was deafening, but Jared could see Morgan’s mouth moving, see him gesturing towards the copter and Jensen nod, ducking low as he scrambled aboard, Morgan and Paloma right behind him.
Jared’s “Noooo,” was drowned in the engine’s rising whine.
He sprang up, but it was too late, the bird’s rotors spinning faster as it lifted off. Charging forward, Jared took the first bullet in the chest, the second in the arm. It was like slamming into a wall at full speed. Body snapping helplessly, he was flung backwards by the impact, a marionette with cut strings. He tottered, fighting it, managing to keep his eyes on the retreating helicopter even as he dropped forward heavily onto his knees, hair whipping across his face.
A mild burn caught his attention, pulling it back into himself. Spreading numbness cocooned the savage pain to a distant throb that beat in time with his heart. Vision telescoping suddenly to nothing, silence reached up from the chaos around Jared to wrap him in its arms and guide him into the dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Stupid mother fucking asshole.” Mike’s aggrieved voice cut through the lingering fog that clogged Jared’s head. “Call yourself a doctor? Look at him for Christ sake. He’s a.... Oh.’
Jared’s eyelids weighed fifty pounds apiece. But he forced them open in time to see Mike’s face hovering above him, his usual backwards baseball cap and flak jacket curiously reassuring when accompanied by a sharkish grin. Everything was white and too bright. Jared squinted, tried to move his arms, but found them tied to the bed he was laying on with tubes snaking into his wrists and elbows. Mike leaned closer, taking up Jared’s entire field of vision, and kissed him full on the mouth.
“You’re awake! Goddamn, it’s good to see those peepers of yours open, babe. Thought we were gonna lose you.”
Jared blinked and spat, making gagging noises at the kiss and the bitter tasted painted on the back of his throat as he swallowed. Thrashing to get loose from his restraints only provoked Mike’s amused chuckle.
“Cool it, wonder kid. You ain’t getting out of here anytime soon.” He laid a restraining hand gently against Jared’s shoulder to emphasize his point. “They put you down for the count. Ref nearly called the game.”
“Yeah? Well, I ain’t that easy to get rid of,” Jared mumbled, marble-mouthed and still feeling woozy.“And don’t ever fucking kiss me again, Rosey. It’s disgusting. Now get my shit together. I’m out of this joint.”
Jared ran an eye around the perimeter of the room, looking for a closet to point Mike at. He couldn’t help but take in the muted afternoon sunlight coming through the blind-covered windows and the I.V.’s strange gantry, looking weirdly Martian and sinister to his fuzzy mind. He swallowed deeply in an attempt to stave off dizziness as the room took a slow spin.
“Out of here,” he repeated, trying to convince himself. It was a hard sell.
Coupled with the pain that ricocheted across his ribs and down his left arm, where he’d taken the second bullet, it was nearly impossible. He fell back, gasping for air, regrouping as sweat stung his eyes. The medication was wearing off. Abrupt movement meant screaming aloud.
“Son of a fucking bitch.” His gaze flicked to Mike. It was apparent Jared wasn’t getting loose without a little help from his friend.
“Okay,” he panted. “Give me a minute. While I’m playing damsel in distress, you can get me up to speed. I don’t exactly remember the whole deal. Head’s kind of muzzy. How’d I end up here?”
Lips cracked from breathing through his mouth while he was unconscious, Jared licked the tip of his tongue across the dry skin. He felt dehydrated, like the last drop of fluid had been leached from his body along with all his memories of the past twenty four hours.
Mike pulled a chair closer to the bed and plunked his ass down, looking wary. “Come on, pal. Take it easy. You’re not doing yourself any favors going all bug shit over this. Doctors say you’ll be out of here in maybe a week. If you’re a good boy.”
“A week?”
Jared’s stomach did a nasty rollover. Something pushed at the back of his brain, something he’d forgotten, struggling to work itself out where he could see it. Little bits and pieces began to float up hazily; loud roars that turned into the crackle of gunfire; bright light that flickered, revolving into rotors spinning against a harsh blue sky.
Mike held a straw to Jared’s lips and urged him to drink. “Take a sip.”
“Oh God, I’m gonna die, aren’t I,” Jared managed to croak, dodging the plastic tube. “Cause why else would you be playing Nurse Rosenbaum?”
Mike snorted, managing to look offended and entertained simultaneously. He set the glass down with a phony huff, wrapped a hand around Jared’s biceps and squeezed.
“I don’t mind telling you, Jay, you scared the shit out of me. We thought you’d had it. You know how the spiel goes.” Mike’s doctor voice was so damned near perfect, it gave Jared chills. “If that first bullet had been a couple of inches over, it would have blown your goddamn heart out right through your spine. The border guards thought you were one of the bad guys. What can I say? Friendly fire’s a bitch.” Spreading his hands, Mike shrugged.
The muscles holding Jared’s body stiff with dismay suddenly went lax from shock. He slumped back farther onto the pillows, remembering being shot, the hot punch of expanding metal tearing into the walls of his chest, then everything going far away down an ever-narrowing tunnel of black. Staring at the white ceiling, Jared drew air in slowly, painfully aware of the way it filled his lungs. The reality of being alive flushed through his veins with a shock of pure adrenalin.
“Christ. Remind me never to do that again,” he rasped, eyes closing tiredly before they popped open at a new thought. “Did we get ‘em? All the bad guys?”
Jared felt a little groggy on the details. He’d been after a major drug and arms dealer that much he remembered. The name of the guy eluded him. And something else that nagged uncomfortably at the forefront of his brain. He wished the drugs were out of his system. It felt impossible to think straight through their hazy filter.
“Got most of them,” Mike confirmed, patting Jared amiably on the shoulder above his bandaged chest. “You’ll be getting another commendation, the way I hear it. Big hero foils the villains again. It’s in all the papers.”
“Yeah. I bet. With your name above the headline.”
“Maybe. You wouldn’t begrudge me a little of your reflected glory now, would you, Paddy?”
Jared’s “Don’t call me that,” was only half-hearted. He could see the deep hollows of exhaustion under Mike’s eyes and the way his shoulders slumped. They’d been friends for a long time. The strain of waiting for Jared to wake up was written all over the man, from his tired face to the flak jacket and cap he hadn’t taken the time to change out of after the bust went down.
“How long you been sitting shotgun,” Jared asked gently, guilt welling up in his throat.
“Not long. Day and a half tops.”
“Shit.” Jared rubbed distractedly at his eyes. “I’ve been in here that long? I...I don’t remember any of it. Just the slap in the chest and feeling strange. Falling over. But we got ‘em, right?” Jared didn’t know why he was asking the same question again. Why his gut was snarled in a knot every time he pictured a helicopter lifting into the hot, high haze of the desert sun.
“Pretty much everybody except Morgan. He made it back to Baja in that fucking helicopter of his before we could stop him.”
The memories rode in on Morgan’s name like a runner sliding for home. There was Jensen in his thin shirt and bare feet, stumbling to save Paloma, one swift glance back at Jared, full of heart-felt apology. The wind thrown off by the copter’s spinning rotors veiled the scene in clouds of swirling sand. Through it all, Jared could see Morgan’s face twisted into a savage grin of triumph as Jared collapsed to his knees, incapable of stopping the tragedy unfolding before of him.
“Mike.” Jared snagged Mike’s arm in a painful grip. “Get me loose. Morgan’s got Jensen.”
“Jay, calm down. Whatever was going to happen to the guy has happened already. He’s probably dead. And even if he isn’t, you can’t do him any good killing yourself.”
Jared wasn’t listening. This time the pain served as a spur to get him moving. He ripped the I.V. and monitor lines from his arm, buzzers going off like fire alarms as he strode to the blank door that must be the closet and jerked it open. Inside his jeans and boots were the only occupants. Jared figured they’d tossed his bloody shirt. With swift jabs of a fist, he tucked the hospital johnny into his pants one-handed, then awkwardly toed on his boots. Straightening, jaw gritted, he found Mike blocking his path.
“Jared. Don’t do this,” was the only thing Mike said, but he looked determined enough to stop the entire Pittsburgh Steelers offensive line.
“You don’t know that guy, dude. He makes Hannibal Lector look like the Good Fairy. Now get out of my way, Mike, before I have to hurt you. He’s going to rip Jensen apart before he kills him, and I’m not letting that happen.”
It turned out Jared knew what he was talking about. But even he couldn’t have imagined the worst of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jensen’s head drooped exhaustedly between his shoulders, the strain on his arms having turned to agony what felt like weeks ago. The muscles of his biceps and forearms were stretched taut, bulging from the effort to keep his toes on the ground. Tremors shook through his thighs and calves. Sweat blinded his eyes. When he lost purchase, the pain whited-out his vision, joint and sinew straining close to dislocation. Blood dripped from his bitten lips past loose teeth. His face felt like raw hamburger.
Jared wouldn’t find him so pretty anymore, Jensen thought blearily, sorry for that. He liked the way Jared’s eyes ate him up, touching his skin in sensual little flickers that made Jensen's belly heat with lust. Allowing his concentration to lose focus and drift into remembering the thick punch of Jared’s cock in his asshole, Jensen’s toes slipped on the wet floorboards and his body swayed free for few seconds before righting itself.
“Fuck! Ummph.”
Jensen couldn’t hold back the deep grunts no matter how hard he gritted his teeth or bit his tongue. The copper tang filling his throat made him choke and cough, spit the muck out to keep from strangling on it. He squeezed his eyes closed, concentrating. His hatred of Jeff was so fierce it filled him from head to toe with a manic need to survive-if only long enough to get his hands around that thick neck and squeeze and squeeze until Jeff’s face turned purple and his eyes rolled up. Jensen would do it-for Jared as well as himself.
Struggling to keep from passing out, Jensen watched through slitted eyes as Jeff prowled back into his line of sight, roaming the room in predatory strides, waiting to pounce again, letting his fury build up for the next assault.
“We should have done this ages ago, Jenny,” he snickered, stopping in front of Jensen’s naked, swaying body. Jensen was strung up in the empty bunkhouse, away from the hacienda where they’d taken Paloma. Chains looped over the broad crossbeams supporting the building’s roof. “I like you this way.”
Morgan closed his fingers on Jensen’s nipple, squeezing the abused flesh until Jensen was twisting away, despite the pull on his arms, his cheeks silently bathed in tears. Harsh gasps filled the space from wall to wall with their agony. The pinch brought a fresh well of blood from the pebbled surface where Jeff had plunged needles into the tender button of Jensen’s erect nipple, when his fury at Jensen’s betrayal was white hot.
That was before he’d raped him. Had one of the few bodyguards still around pin Jensen in a choke hold, laughing, while Jensen fought as best he could to no avail. Jeff pried his ass cheeks apart and rammed it to him as hard as he could. Mouth under the gag of a ham-sized hand, Jensen’s roar of pain still managed to reverberate down the hacienda’s indifferent corridors.
His thighs banded to steel, he pushed up, almost managing to wrench himself free before he was pushed face first into the smothering surface of a pillow. Air clogged inside his head, nostrils flaring vainly for oxygen. Vision gone, he suffocated against the clinging wrap of feathers, while inside his rectum, balls deep, Jeff shot his load with a triumphant roar. The thick gush stung brightly against the torn muscle. Jensen’s body went slack, and he collapsed insensate.
Brought back to the present by another savage twist to his bleeding chest, Jensen stared into Jeff’s eyes.
“Too bad your lover can’t see you now,” Jeff purred. Leaning forward, he licked a swath through the salt stream dripping down Jensen’s chin. “But he’s dead, so you can forget that.”
Jensen’s eyes widened, their ocean depths glittering dangerously. “You’re lying. I’d know if he were dead. I’d feel it. He’s coming for you, Jeff. It won’t be long. He’s going to rip you heart out with his teeth and eat it.”
The reaction Jensen’s had hoped for didn’t come. Instead, Jeff threw his head back and guffawed with honest hilarity.
“You keep on believing that, baby. Maybe it will keep you alive a little longer. So I can play with you some more. Before I cut your tongue out and slit your throat.”
Jeff moved around behind Jensen, running a hand down the slashed and bloody curve of his spine.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured, pressing close, breathing the sentiment into the shell of Jensen’s ear. “Makes me hard just looking at you. All ready for it.”
Fingers pried at Jensen’s backside, slipping down between the two rounded cheeks to where his anus still leaked blood and cum from the last violation.
“You feel good down here. I don’t mind sloppy seconds when they’re my own.” Jeff snugged his hips up against Jensen’s bare ass, pulling his cock out of his pants. The hard erection pushed forward until it was sandwiched tightly between quivering globes. “Come on. Show me you’ve still got some fight left. It’s no fun if you like it.”
The move was lighting quick, so quick Jeff couldn’t get out of the way in time. Jensen’s teeth sank into the fleshy part of his cheek, ripping skin and grazing nearly to the bone. Biting down savagely, he shook his head, worrying out a chunk of gore. His jaws ran red with the spurt of blood.
“That enough fight for you,” Jensen taunted, spitting the hunk of meat onto the floor.
Jeff staggered back, a hand clamped to his face.“You mother fucking little bastard! I’ll make you sorry for that!”
His fist pounded into Jensen’s mouth. Over and over again, the flesh finally squelching, going mushy until consciousness slipped free, and Jensen gratefully fell away into blackness. Turning on his heel, Jeff rushed from the building, leaving Jensen’s lax body to sway in its bonds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pip Karmel was a helicopter pilot in Viet Nam, one of the best. He could bring his bird in on a dime, skim the treetops so low you’d be picking palm fronds out of your jockey shorts for days. The VC ran like hell at the first low buzz of him coming in on a strafing run. The wet-backs weren’t any different.
Pip liked taking chances, and as he was fond of saying, “A little snow on the roof don’t mean the fire’s ain't still burning to beat the band.”
“Hold your dick on, kid,” he groused now, giving Jared the fisheye. “We’ll get there. When have I ever let you down?”
Jared pressed a hand to his chest over the burn of his bullet wound, the other cradling a machine gun he’d appropriated along his mad dash to rescue Jensen.
“Never, Pip.”
Jared did his best to breath out some of his tension. Catching Pip at the border helicopter pad was the first piece of good luck he’d had in what felt like forever. They’d met a few years back. Jared, a wet-behind-the-ears rookie, and the sharp-eyed veteran making an effective team from the start. Since that first day spent learning the ropes under his tutelage, Jared never doubted for a moment that Pip knew what he was doing, and wouldn't stop until he’d achieved whatever goal he’d set for himself.
The stars were beginning to prick their way through the dusty velvet of twilight as Jared spotted the hacienda’s outline against the horizon. Pip brought them in low and swift, swinging off to land at a discreet distance before the copter’s buzz gave them away. They settled delicately on the churning sand, Jared on the edge of his seat, already reaching to open the hatch.
Before he could spring out, Pip caught his arm. “Be careful, kid. Don’t want to haul your ass back in pieces.”
“You know me.” Jared flashed a toothy grin. “The original little old lady from Pasadena.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of, bud. That woman was a goddamn terror.”
Jared took a deep breath, pushing the bubbled plastic out of his way, shifting the machine gun up against his belly. “Five bucks in it for you if you give us a lift back.”
“You’re on.” Pip waved him away with an attempt at a jaunty salute.
Jared, crouching down to hide his approached, dodged behind rocks and cacti until he was close enough to see Morgan’s own helicopter sitting silently off to one side. The warm honey of lighted windows gave the hacienda a festive appearance. Even the bunkhouse was lit up. Jared wavered, wondering how many he’d have to face and which one of the two buildings would be his best bet for finding Jensen.
Title: Burn
Author: englishblue
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Rape, torture this chapter. Please be advised.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn it!
Summary: It’s a nowhere little town south of the border. You’d think nothing ever happened there. But when passion and obsession collide, all bets are off. They couldn’t keep away from each other. Now Jensen and Jared will have to run for their lives or die for their sins because of it.
Saw this pic by maryano4ka and it's the way I pictured Burn's Jensen. So here he is. God, the man is so pretty.
Chapter 11
The erupting chatter of gunfire sewed a line in the sand near the helicopter. Jared flung himself flat on the ground behind the cover of the SUV’s blocky body, his forearms and elbows scraped raw at the rough landing. The border guards, who had been lounging in their watchtowers until the copter dove onto the road, were shooting at a crouching run on the far side of the fence, shouting for the intruders to drop their weapons. There were at least six of them, their faces painted white in the sun’s glare, khaki uniforms dusted into pale shrouds by the clouds of sand thrown up from the helicopter blades. They were too far away, not even to the inner gate yet that would allow them access to the playing field. Ignoring them as irrelevant, Jared swung his gaze back to the action in front of him.
From where Jared lay, he could see Morgan struggling with Paloma, the woman twisting and kicking under his grip, his gun hand thrown off, but now pointing at Jensen, while he dragged her by the thick braid at the back of her head across the uneven terrain. The noise of the battle was deafening, but Jared could see Morgan’s mouth moving, see him gesturing towards the copter and Jensen nod, ducking low as he scrambled aboard, Morgan and Paloma right behind him.
Jared’s “Noooo,” was drowned in the engine’s rising whine.
He sprang up, but it was too late, the bird’s rotors spinning faster as it lifted off. Charging forward, Jared took the first bullet in the chest, the second in the arm. It was like slamming into a wall at full speed. Body snapping helplessly, he was flung backwards by the impact, a marionette with cut strings. He tottered, fighting it, managing to keep his eyes on the retreating helicopter even as he dropped forward heavily onto his knees, hair whipping across his face.
A mild burn caught his attention, pulling it back into himself. Spreading numbness cocooned the savage pain to a distant throb that beat in time with his heart. Vision telescoping suddenly to nothing, silence reached up from the chaos around Jared to wrap him in its arms and guide him into the dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Stupid mother fucking asshole.” Mike’s aggrieved voice cut through the lingering fog that clogged Jared’s head. “Call yourself a doctor? Look at him for Christ sake. He’s a.... Oh.’
Jared’s eyelids weighed fifty pounds apiece. But he forced them open in time to see Mike’s face hovering above him, his usual backwards baseball cap and flak jacket curiously reassuring when accompanied by a sharkish grin. Everything was white and too bright. Jared squinted, tried to move his arms, but found them tied to the bed he was laying on with tubes snaking into his wrists and elbows. Mike leaned closer, taking up Jared’s entire field of vision, and kissed him full on the mouth.
“You’re awake! Goddamn, it’s good to see those peepers of yours open, babe. Thought we were gonna lose you.”
Jared blinked and spat, making gagging noises at the kiss and the bitter tasted painted on the back of his throat as he swallowed. Thrashing to get loose from his restraints only provoked Mike’s amused chuckle.
“Cool it, wonder kid. You ain’t getting out of here anytime soon.” He laid a restraining hand gently against Jared’s shoulder to emphasize his point. “They put you down for the count. Ref nearly called the game.”
“Yeah? Well, I ain’t that easy to get rid of,” Jared mumbled, marble-mouthed and still feeling woozy.“And don’t ever fucking kiss me again, Rosey. It’s disgusting. Now get my shit together. I’m out of this joint.”
Jared ran an eye around the perimeter of the room, looking for a closet to point Mike at. He couldn’t help but take in the muted afternoon sunlight coming through the blind-covered windows and the I.V.’s strange gantry, looking weirdly Martian and sinister to his fuzzy mind. He swallowed deeply in an attempt to stave off dizziness as the room took a slow spin.
“Out of here,” he repeated, trying to convince himself. It was a hard sell.
Coupled with the pain that ricocheted across his ribs and down his left arm, where he’d taken the second bullet, it was nearly impossible. He fell back, gasping for air, regrouping as sweat stung his eyes. The medication was wearing off. Abrupt movement meant screaming aloud.
“Son of a fucking bitch.” His gaze flicked to Mike. It was apparent Jared wasn’t getting loose without a little help from his friend.
“Okay,” he panted. “Give me a minute. While I’m playing damsel in distress, you can get me up to speed. I don’t exactly remember the whole deal. Head’s kind of muzzy. How’d I end up here?”
Lips cracked from breathing through his mouth while he was unconscious, Jared licked the tip of his tongue across the dry skin. He felt dehydrated, like the last drop of fluid had been leached from his body along with all his memories of the past twenty four hours.
Mike pulled a chair closer to the bed and plunked his ass down, looking wary. “Come on, pal. Take it easy. You’re not doing yourself any favors going all bug shit over this. Doctors say you’ll be out of here in maybe a week. If you’re a good boy.”
“A week?”
Jared’s stomach did a nasty rollover. Something pushed at the back of his brain, something he’d forgotten, struggling to work itself out where he could see it. Little bits and pieces began to float up hazily; loud roars that turned into the crackle of gunfire; bright light that flickered, revolving into rotors spinning against a harsh blue sky.
Mike held a straw to Jared’s lips and urged him to drink. “Take a sip.”
“Oh God, I’m gonna die, aren’t I,” Jared managed to croak, dodging the plastic tube. “Cause why else would you be playing Nurse Rosenbaum?”
Mike snorted, managing to look offended and entertained simultaneously. He set the glass down with a phony huff, wrapped a hand around Jared’s biceps and squeezed.
“I don’t mind telling you, Jay, you scared the shit out of me. We thought you’d had it. You know how the spiel goes.” Mike’s doctor voice was so damned near perfect, it gave Jared chills. “If that first bullet had been a couple of inches over, it would have blown your goddamn heart out right through your spine. The border guards thought you were one of the bad guys. What can I say? Friendly fire’s a bitch.” Spreading his hands, Mike shrugged.
The muscles holding Jared’s body stiff with dismay suddenly went lax from shock. He slumped back farther onto the pillows, remembering being shot, the hot punch of expanding metal tearing into the walls of his chest, then everything going far away down an ever-narrowing tunnel of black. Staring at the white ceiling, Jared drew air in slowly, painfully aware of the way it filled his lungs. The reality of being alive flushed through his veins with a shock of pure adrenalin.
“Christ. Remind me never to do that again,” he rasped, eyes closing tiredly before they popped open at a new thought. “Did we get ‘em? All the bad guys?”
Jared felt a little groggy on the details. He’d been after a major drug and arms dealer that much he remembered. The name of the guy eluded him. And something else that nagged uncomfortably at the forefront of his brain. He wished the drugs were out of his system. It felt impossible to think straight through their hazy filter.
“Got most of them,” Mike confirmed, patting Jared amiably on the shoulder above his bandaged chest. “You’ll be getting another commendation, the way I hear it. Big hero foils the villains again. It’s in all the papers.”
“Yeah. I bet. With your name above the headline.”
“Maybe. You wouldn’t begrudge me a little of your reflected glory now, would you, Paddy?”
Jared’s “Don’t call me that,” was only half-hearted. He could see the deep hollows of exhaustion under Mike’s eyes and the way his shoulders slumped. They’d been friends for a long time. The strain of waiting for Jared to wake up was written all over the man, from his tired face to the flak jacket and cap he hadn’t taken the time to change out of after the bust went down.
“How long you been sitting shotgun,” Jared asked gently, guilt welling up in his throat.
“Not long. Day and a half tops.”
“Shit.” Jared rubbed distractedly at his eyes. “I’ve been in here that long? I...I don’t remember any of it. Just the slap in the chest and feeling strange. Falling over. But we got ‘em, right?” Jared didn’t know why he was asking the same question again. Why his gut was snarled in a knot every time he pictured a helicopter lifting into the hot, high haze of the desert sun.
“Pretty much everybody except Morgan. He made it back to Baja in that fucking helicopter of his before we could stop him.”
The memories rode in on Morgan’s name like a runner sliding for home. There was Jensen in his thin shirt and bare feet, stumbling to save Paloma, one swift glance back at Jared, full of heart-felt apology. The wind thrown off by the copter’s spinning rotors veiled the scene in clouds of swirling sand. Through it all, Jared could see Morgan’s face twisted into a savage grin of triumph as Jared collapsed to his knees, incapable of stopping the tragedy unfolding before of him.
“Mike.” Jared snagged Mike’s arm in a painful grip. “Get me loose. Morgan’s got Jensen.”
“Jay, calm down. Whatever was going to happen to the guy has happened already. He’s probably dead. And even if he isn’t, you can’t do him any good killing yourself.”
Jared wasn’t listening. This time the pain served as a spur to get him moving. He ripped the I.V. and monitor lines from his arm, buzzers going off like fire alarms as he strode to the blank door that must be the closet and jerked it open. Inside his jeans and boots were the only occupants. Jared figured they’d tossed his bloody shirt. With swift jabs of a fist, he tucked the hospital johnny into his pants one-handed, then awkwardly toed on his boots. Straightening, jaw gritted, he found Mike blocking his path.
“Jared. Don’t do this,” was the only thing Mike said, but he looked determined enough to stop the entire Pittsburgh Steelers offensive line.
“You don’t know that guy, dude. He makes Hannibal Lector look like the Good Fairy. Now get out of my way, Mike, before I have to hurt you. He’s going to rip Jensen apart before he kills him, and I’m not letting that happen.”
It turned out Jared knew what he was talking about. But even he couldn’t have imagined the worst of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jensen’s head drooped exhaustedly between his shoulders, the strain on his arms having turned to agony what felt like weeks ago. The muscles of his biceps and forearms were stretched taut, bulging from the effort to keep his toes on the ground. Tremors shook through his thighs and calves. Sweat blinded his eyes. When he lost purchase, the pain whited-out his vision, joint and sinew straining close to dislocation. Blood dripped from his bitten lips past loose teeth. His face felt like raw hamburger.
Jared wouldn’t find him so pretty anymore, Jensen thought blearily, sorry for that. He liked the way Jared’s eyes ate him up, touching his skin in sensual little flickers that made Jensen's belly heat with lust. Allowing his concentration to lose focus and drift into remembering the thick punch of Jared’s cock in his asshole, Jensen’s toes slipped on the wet floorboards and his body swayed free for few seconds before righting itself.
“Fuck! Ummph.”
Jensen couldn’t hold back the deep grunts no matter how hard he gritted his teeth or bit his tongue. The copper tang filling his throat made him choke and cough, spit the muck out to keep from strangling on it. He squeezed his eyes closed, concentrating. His hatred of Jeff was so fierce it filled him from head to toe with a manic need to survive-if only long enough to get his hands around that thick neck and squeeze and squeeze until Jeff’s face turned purple and his eyes rolled up. Jensen would do it-for Jared as well as himself.
Struggling to keep from passing out, Jensen watched through slitted eyes as Jeff prowled back into his line of sight, roaming the room in predatory strides, waiting to pounce again, letting his fury build up for the next assault.
“We should have done this ages ago, Jenny,” he snickered, stopping in front of Jensen’s naked, swaying body. Jensen was strung up in the empty bunkhouse, away from the hacienda where they’d taken Paloma. Chains looped over the broad crossbeams supporting the building’s roof. “I like you this way.”
Morgan closed his fingers on Jensen’s nipple, squeezing the abused flesh until Jensen was twisting away, despite the pull on his arms, his cheeks silently bathed in tears. Harsh gasps filled the space from wall to wall with their agony. The pinch brought a fresh well of blood from the pebbled surface where Jeff had plunged needles into the tender button of Jensen’s erect nipple, when his fury at Jensen’s betrayal was white hot.
That was before he’d raped him. Had one of the few bodyguards still around pin Jensen in a choke hold, laughing, while Jensen fought as best he could to no avail. Jeff pried his ass cheeks apart and rammed it to him as hard as he could. Mouth under the gag of a ham-sized hand, Jensen’s roar of pain still managed to reverberate down the hacienda’s indifferent corridors.
His thighs banded to steel, he pushed up, almost managing to wrench himself free before he was pushed face first into the smothering surface of a pillow. Air clogged inside his head, nostrils flaring vainly for oxygen. Vision gone, he suffocated against the clinging wrap of feathers, while inside his rectum, balls deep, Jeff shot his load with a triumphant roar. The thick gush stung brightly against the torn muscle. Jensen’s body went slack, and he collapsed insensate.
Brought back to the present by another savage twist to his bleeding chest, Jensen stared into Jeff’s eyes.
“Too bad your lover can’t see you now,” Jeff purred. Leaning forward, he licked a swath through the salt stream dripping down Jensen’s chin. “But he’s dead, so you can forget that.”
Jensen’s eyes widened, their ocean depths glittering dangerously. “You’re lying. I’d know if he were dead. I’d feel it. He’s coming for you, Jeff. It won’t be long. He’s going to rip you heart out with his teeth and eat it.”
The reaction Jensen’s had hoped for didn’t come. Instead, Jeff threw his head back and guffawed with honest hilarity.
“You keep on believing that, baby. Maybe it will keep you alive a little longer. So I can play with you some more. Before I cut your tongue out and slit your throat.”
Jeff moved around behind Jensen, running a hand down the slashed and bloody curve of his spine.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured, pressing close, breathing the sentiment into the shell of Jensen’s ear. “Makes me hard just looking at you. All ready for it.”
Fingers pried at Jensen’s backside, slipping down between the two rounded cheeks to where his anus still leaked blood and cum from the last violation.
“You feel good down here. I don’t mind sloppy seconds when they’re my own.” Jeff snugged his hips up against Jensen’s bare ass, pulling his cock out of his pants. The hard erection pushed forward until it was sandwiched tightly between quivering globes. “Come on. Show me you’ve still got some fight left. It’s no fun if you like it.”
The move was lighting quick, so quick Jeff couldn’t get out of the way in time. Jensen’s teeth sank into the fleshy part of his cheek, ripping skin and grazing nearly to the bone. Biting down savagely, he shook his head, worrying out a chunk of gore. His jaws ran red with the spurt of blood.
“That enough fight for you,” Jensen taunted, spitting the hunk of meat onto the floor.
Jeff staggered back, a hand clamped to his face.“You mother fucking little bastard! I’ll make you sorry for that!”
His fist pounded into Jensen’s mouth. Over and over again, the flesh finally squelching, going mushy until consciousness slipped free, and Jensen gratefully fell away into blackness. Turning on his heel, Jeff rushed from the building, leaving Jensen’s lax body to sway in its bonds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pip Karmel was a helicopter pilot in Viet Nam, one of the best. He could bring his bird in on a dime, skim the treetops so low you’d be picking palm fronds out of your jockey shorts for days. The VC ran like hell at the first low buzz of him coming in on a strafing run. The wet-backs weren’t any different.
Pip liked taking chances, and as he was fond of saying, “A little snow on the roof don’t mean the fire’s ain't still burning to beat the band.”
“Hold your dick on, kid,” he groused now, giving Jared the fisheye. “We’ll get there. When have I ever let you down?”
Jared pressed a hand to his chest over the burn of his bullet wound, the other cradling a machine gun he’d appropriated along his mad dash to rescue Jensen.
“Never, Pip.”
Jared did his best to breath out some of his tension. Catching Pip at the border helicopter pad was the first piece of good luck he’d had in what felt like forever. They’d met a few years back. Jared, a wet-behind-the-ears rookie, and the sharp-eyed veteran making an effective team from the start. Since that first day spent learning the ropes under his tutelage, Jared never doubted for a moment that Pip knew what he was doing, and wouldn't stop until he’d achieved whatever goal he’d set for himself.
The stars were beginning to prick their way through the dusty velvet of twilight as Jared spotted the hacienda’s outline against the horizon. Pip brought them in low and swift, swinging off to land at a discreet distance before the copter’s buzz gave them away. They settled delicately on the churning sand, Jared on the edge of his seat, already reaching to open the hatch.
Before he could spring out, Pip caught his arm. “Be careful, kid. Don’t want to haul your ass back in pieces.”
“You know me.” Jared flashed a toothy grin. “The original little old lady from Pasadena.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of, bud. That woman was a goddamn terror.”
Jared took a deep breath, pushing the bubbled plastic out of his way, shifting the machine gun up against his belly. “Five bucks in it for you if you give us a lift back.”
“You’re on.” Pip waved him away with an attempt at a jaunty salute.
Jared, crouching down to hide his approached, dodged behind rocks and cacti until he was close enough to see Morgan’s own helicopter sitting silently off to one side. The warm honey of lighted windows gave the hacienda a festive appearance. Even the bunkhouse was lit up. Jared wavered, wondering how many he’d have to face and which one of the two buildings would be his best bet for finding Jensen.