I meant to post this a couple days ago, but I got hit
by the Blaster worm and one of its off shoots. I want
to thank my beta's: Mary, Nikki, and oh, yeah - that
other chick who doesn't want me to mention her name.
<g> Y'all do a great job! I couldn't keep writing
without you!

Chapter 43
“Excuse me?” Amy’s eyes bugged out and the stain of a
blush stole over her cheeks - the first real color
she’d had all day, in fact.

“Your clothes,” Trent repeated. He realized how his
statement must have sounded. And in spite of his
reasoning being anything but lascivious, his heart
pounded a little harder and his mouth went dry.
“There might still be some in the clothing you’re
wearing. We have to check it all.”

Amy looked both a little uncertain and unwilling. He
wanted to tap his foot. He didn’t see what the
problem was. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen all of her
before anyway, even fairly recently.

Her fingers trembled at the buttons of her sweater,
and she looked up at him suddenly. “Would you mind
turning around?”

Trent nearly snorted. He couldn’t believe this. He
almost had to bite his tongue to keep from saying what
he’d been thinking a moment ago. This hesitation was
wasting precious time. Then something odd struck him.
As much as he didn’t believe it, still, there was the
possibility that she might try to conceal one on her
person behind his back. Could he take that chance?
‘No’ was perched on the edge of his lips. But his
more chivalrous instincts prevented him from giving
vent to his frustrations. He pressed him mouth shut
and turned around.

At once, he heard shuffling behind him. Her sweater
landed on the bed next to his right hand. With a
sigh, he picked it up. It was soft, just like she
was, and warm from being next to her. Concentrate,
Trent. He bent his head closer to inspect the seams.
Damn, it even smelled like her too. Nothing there.

She tossed her bra over next. Oh boy. He tried to
remind himself that it was just business. He had to
check it as a precaution, but he swallowed hard as his
fingers closed around the black lace. The heat in the
room must have risen ten degrees. Suddenly, he was
sweating bullets. He didn’t want to rush through it
just to get it over with, but he found himself doing
just that. Luckily, he stopped in time. He pulled a
small transmitter circuit from inside one of the cups.


Trent turned around to show her, his mouth open to
speak, but he never said a word. Instead, his jaw
dropped open further. She was gloriously naked from
the waist up and he just stared at her breasts.
Apparently, she’d been in the process of putting on
another shirt - one from her bag that they’d already
searched - when his sudden movement had stunned her.

She was frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.
Then suddenly, she bolted into action. The fresh
shirt dropped over her chest and her arms locked in
front of her. Again, he thought it strange for her to
be so self-conscious after they’d already been
intimate.

Trent cleared his throat, but he couldn’t stop his
eyes from wandering below her face. “I found one.”
He held the electronic device aloft. “I-I’ll just
finish checking this.” It took another few seconds
for him to actually do as he said. Meanwhile, Amy
just stood silently, waiting. Once he did manage to
turn back around, he dug through the rest of her
brassiere.

He was nearly finished when her jeans landed next to
him, and he had to remind himself to breathe. Next
came her panties. He almost choked. As if the bra
hadn’t been challenging enough. He tossed that behind
him and picked up the panties. Forbidden images swam
through his head. He didn’t need to be thinking such
things. It was destroying his concentration.

Maybe that was part of the plan. He closed his eyes
and took a deep breath. And inhaled the scent of her.
He let out a groan and fisted his hands. No, he was
just being paranoid. Some clarity restored, he
resumed his task. Behind him, he could hear movement.
Amy must be slipping something else on. He heard a
soft snap, like that of an elastic waistband popping
into place.

“How much time do we have left?” Amy’s voice was
quiet, sedate, and surprisingly lucid, considering her
still detoxifying state.

Trent glanced at his watch. “Not much.”

He glanced over his shoulder, noted that she was fully
dressed, at least as far as top and bottom, and turned
around. Her choice of attire was interesting, and he
wondered if she’d dressed in all black purposely or if
she’d just grabbed the first handy things out of the
bag.

“Do you have your shoes on?” She shook her head.
“Good. We need to check them first.” While she bent
to pick them up off the floor, he shoved the armful of
clothes across the bed toward her. “Pack these up
while I look over your shoes.”

*****

She didn’t speak, but did as she was told while she
looked him over. She felt a strange, twisting pain at
his appearance. He looked tired. No. More than
tired. He looked ragged, as if about to drop. How
much longer could he go on with out rest? How much
longer could she let him? It was all because of her
that he was in this predicament. There had to be
something she could do to make it better.

She knew, without asking again, without him saying so,
that they were nearly out of time. In more ways than
one. And it made her feel strangely empty, like there
was nothing left for her.

What was wrong with her? Was this normal? Or was it
a by-product of the drugs? She couldn’t tell. All
she knew was at this very moment, she wanted nothing
more than to love him, and have him love her too. But
that was impossible. No matter what he said, she
wasn’t who he wanted. Eventually, he’d have to admit
that to himself and when he did, he wouldn’t be able
to pretend.

She understood that, in a sad, familiar way, as if
she’d stood in this spot before. How she envied the
woman he loved. What a gift it was to find someone to
stand by you the way this man was willing to stand by
the person he thought she was.

But she wasn’t. And now it was time to end it. If
the organization had truly found them, she was dead
one way or another and she’d rather go out fighting
than on the run. At least he would be safe a little
while longer.

With a sigh that he probably didn’t think she heard,
he handed her shoes back to her. “Put these on,” he
said. “We’ve got to go.”

She put them on, and then looked up at him. “I have a
better idea.”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her curiously.
“What?”

She licked her lips. “You go. I’ll stay.”

His jaw clenched, his lips thinned into a flat line.
“No. That’s not an option.” He grabbed her forearm
and pulled her around the bed.

She tugged against him. The more she struggled, the
clearer her thoughts became. “Listen to me,” she
begged breathlessly. Her body was still weak and
fighting him tired her out. “I can stall who ever is
out there. Throw them off your track.”

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

“You don’t know these people.”

“I’ve dealt with their kind before.” Trent sighed.
“I can do it again. They always make a mistake.”

He sounded as tired as he looked. And speaking of
tired; so was she. Too tired to run anymore. Too
tired to keep fighting. Blandly, she said, “If they
catch you, they will kill you.”

She could see the fury take over his face before he
spoke. Actually, shouted was a better description.
“And if you stay and they catch you, they’ll kill
YOU!”

She didn’t answer him. She knew the likely
consequences of what she was suggesting. He just
stared at her, confusion and anger blazing in his eye
when suddenly it was like a light bulb turned on in
his head. “Wait a minute. That’s what you want isn’t
it?”

She didn’t respond right away. “No, not really.
But...”

“But nothing.” He drew a deep breath. His voice
gentled. “Someone wants me dead. And until I find
out who, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m not
going to let you sacrifice yourself for me. I’m not
going to let anything happen to either of us. Not
until I find out definitely who you really are, so you
can just forget that idea.”


=====
Kat Hillcrest

Sons of Thunder Fan Fiction Treasury
http://sot_treasury.tripod.com

Thunder Chronicles
http://www.geocities.com/thunderchronicles

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