Chapter 15

Jason startled awake when a hand clamped over his mouth. “Wha—” He tried to bat the hand away, but a wave of dizziness forced him to stop.

“Shush.” A portable lamp clicked on. Jason recognized Stephanie just before she aimed the light into his eyes. “We have to be quiet. How do you feel?”

“Woozy, sore” he reached up to block the light. “That’s bright as heck!”

“Hush,” she batted his hand to the side. “You have a concussion. I need to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

A concussion accounted for the headache, but why? They’d made tea. He’d teased her about his other relationships. Then they kissed and, whoa, everything came back. He couldn’t suppress the surprise in his voice--or the betrayal. “You kicked me.”

“Yeah, sorry, but you and Alfred triggered me.”

“Your mom said something about a loyalty gene.”

With the words “Loyalty Gene,” Steph’s flashlight twitched. “Well, don’t get any more ideas.” Her voice grew serious. “‘Cause Roger’s downstairs.”

“Downstairs? He’s supposed to be on the west coast.”

Stephanie stared. “How much do you know?”

The medpatch must have kicked into overdrive; the headache was nearly gone. “Heh, I know enough to know there’s a bunch you and your mom ain’t saying.” Jason glanced around but didn’t recognize the surroundings. “Where are we?”

“In one of the guest rooms. Don’t worry; he rarely bothers with them.”

“Oh, hell,” Jason reached up and stroked her cheek. It was the most natural motion in the world. Most importantly, his touch didn’t trigger her. “How are you coping, sweetheart?”

“My memories are better integrated now. I was a mess earlier. Otherwise, I’m worried. If he finds you, it won’t be good.”

“Yeah, Alfred checked him out. He’s dirty as hell. Where are you with that loyalty thing?

There was enough reflected light to make out Stephanie’s grimace. “Somewhere between, ‘I don’t know’ and ‘confused as hell.’ Mom thought it had to do with distance. Whoever was closest got the loyalty, but it’s not.”

“What happens if I go downstairs and punch him out?”

“With your concussion? Stay in bed, tough guy. Wait until the medpatch heals you.”

That explained the tightness around his throat. Medpatches were expensive devices, full of self-replicating medical nanites, but a billionaire like Grainer could easily afford one.

Steph nodded and stood. “Do you need the bathroom before I go?”

“Yeah,” He rolled out of bed, but vertigo destroyed his balance. His only choice seemed to be falling face first.

“C’mon.” Steph swooped in and wrapped her arm around his waist. Together they stumbled across the room.

The medpatch worked fast. In the time it took to reach the bathroom, much of the dizziness had receded. The bathroom’s LEDs lit as they crossed the threshold. The white light intensified by the large mirror behind the sink. Their reflections caught his eye. Except for his briefs and the medpatch at his throat, Jason was naked. The large yellowing bruise on his forehead made him look even worse than he felt.

Stephanie, on the other hand, looked like a goth Barbie, ready for a playdate. The bodice of her dress fit tight enough it deemphasized her breasts. The material itself was elastic, black, and covered with ebony sequins. Below the bodice, her skirt puffed out in layers of black tulle.

“Whoa,” he said to Stephanie’s reflection in the mirror. “Are you going to a masquerade party?”

“Smart assed comments will get you knocked out again.” she smiled though and pressed his hands against the sink. “You can handle it from here. I need to go and keep him company.”

The thought of what that might require made Jason nauseous again. “What will you have to do?”

Stephanie brushed his cheek with her hand. “As little as possible. Stay here. Stay quiet. I’ll be back later to tuck you in.”

Jason wanted to ask Stephanie more questions. Anything to keep her away from him, but she’d already left.

After using the facilities, Jason stood at the mirror and inspected the fading bruise on his forehead. Even with the medpatch’s accelerated healing, the outline from her shoe remained clear.

The medpatch drew his attention next. A snug-fitting metallic band held the device to his throat. On the device itself, its status lights glowed a faint green. If he concentrated, its humming was just barely noticeable. The headache and dizziness he’d woke up with had already faded. Semi-autonomous medical devices like this were crazy expensive. They also required a high-bandwidth data connection.

“Alfred?” he kept his voice low.

“Yes, Jason.”

“This medpatch, are you monitoring it?”

“I am. It’s an impressive device. Now that I understand how it interfaces with the local hospital, it’s quite hackable. One would be quite useful in the wrong hands.”

It took an effort to not tear the device from his throat. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“For example, if you were to slip one around Mr. Grainer’s neck, he could suffer a convenient heart attack or a stroke. All undetectable by Miss Stephanie.”

“I don’t want him dead.”

“Shaka, the greatest monarch of the Zulus once said, ‘Never leave an enemy behind, or it will rise again to fly at your throat!’”

‘Shaka Zulu?” Jason stopped his careful study of the medpatch. “Wasn’t he murdered by his brothers?”

“Dingane and Mhlangana, half-brothers and avowed enemies—who Shaka unwisely left alive.”

“Ouch. I get your point, buddy, but I don’t want to murder anyone.”

“Your objection is noted.”

Noted didn’t mean Alfred agreed, or even if the AI would honor Jason’s preference. Better to change the subject for now. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of hacking Mr. Grainer’s mobile phone.”

“Good idea. Anything interesting yet?”

“Not yet, like the estate, the device has hardware-based military-grade encryption. I’m working on—.”

Alfred’s explanation cut off a moment before a sudden movement caught Jason’s attention. Stephanie, in her black princess dress, stood in the doorway. Her eyes lingered on his reflection. Once she had his attention, she stepped to his side.

Jason said, “You’re back sooner than I expected.”

Maybe it was easier to make eye contact via the mirror. She studied him, just as boldly as he did her. Her evident appreciation of his college wrestling physique made all those gym visits worthwhile. Stephanie said, “Where did all your muscles come from?”

Jason said, “I wrestled in high school and college. The workout’s pretty intense.”

“I’ll say,” she murmured, her words slurred.

Something seemed “off” with Steph’s voice. Curious, Jason nudged Stephanie’s shoulder. When she glanced up, her pupils were huge and glassy. Was she drunk?

Stephanie half turned. In doing so, her breast rubbed against his arm. Warm fingertips traced across Jason’s stomach. “Mmmm...” she kissed his shoulder, then down to his chest and across. Interspersed between the kisses she whispered. “Mmmm ... so ... hot.”

This wasn’t Jason’s first rodeo. More than a few other girls had found his wrestler’s physique a turn-on. And Stephanie had always been a physical girl.

“Steph,” he whispered. On any other night, with any other girl, this only ended one way. She wanted it. He wanted it. That her supposed owner waited nearby didn’t matter a whit. Actually—an evil grin lit his face—it made it all the more appealing. But Stephanie’s safety came first. No telling what Roger would do if he noticed someone creampied his slave girl.

One thing was sure; Jason was darned tired of making the right decisions.

“Steph?” he tried another nudge, but she was on autopilot and headed south. “Hey?” he said in a conversational tone, “what’s Roger doing in here.”

A bucket of cold water wouldn’t have worked better. Steph shoved Jason back as she whirled to place herself between him and the open door. It looks like Stephanie’s loyalty gene has made up its mind. Her shoulders slumped when she saw they were still alone. “I zoned out, didn’t I?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you...” she left the rest of her question unspoken.

“I didn’t want you hurt if Roger noticed anything ... later.” He left unspoken just what “anything” might have meant.

Stephanie figured it out. “Roger rarely has anything to do with that part of me.”

“Is he gay, ‘cause—”

“Pardon the interruption,” Alfred interrupted. “I’m monitoring Mr. Grainer’s telephone conversation. When it’s close to finished, I’ll give you two a “heads-up.” Feel free to fornicate.”

Snickering, Stephanie said, “He’s not gay, just ... different. And what’s up with Alfred? He wasn’t so...” she waved a hand, “back then.”.”

Jason stepped back to the sink. His palm “accidentally” brushing down Stephanie’s back. “Without Alfred’s weather forecasts, we would have gotten into so much trouble.” He gave up the “accidental” contact and put his arm around her waist. Steph glanced up, then put her arm around him.

Grinning, Stephanie asked, “Do you want to know what Roger’s talking about?” In the mirror, her green eyes flicked to his, and Jason nodded. “He thinks I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s dizziness was back. “Are you?”

“No,” she stared at his reflection, then smirked. “I can’t believe it. You’re jealous.”

“Hell, yeah. That bastard stole you away from me, and we only had six months. There are so many things we missed doing together.”

“Yeah, all that screwing.” Her right hand slipped down and patted his butt.”

“Hey, don’t discount the screwing. After I get you home, we’ll set a world record.”

This earned him an eye-roll and a real question. “What did Mom tell you about me?”

He’d known this was coming and didn’t have a clue how to answer. Best to spit it out. “Natalie said you and she are special, high-end genies. That you’re addicted to this jerk, who thinks he owns you, but despite everything, you still love me.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Why should it? I still love you too.”

Her eyes widened and a hint of color rose on her cheeks. It lasted a full second before she frowned. “No, you goof. I’m not human, doesn’t that bother you?”

“Nope.” To help make his point, he deliberately ogled her image in the mirror. “I’ve seen you naked. You’re human enough for me.”

“And you’ve seen plenty of naked women for comparison.”

“Ouch.” They were back to that again. “You know,” he said, turning to face her. She had to feel the same attraction. “There’s one sure-fire way to make all those memories vanish.” Stephanie turned to face him. “What’s that?”

They stood an inch or so apart. Close enough for anything to happen. “After he goes to bed, sneak back in here. We can wash all those memories away.”

He thought she’d go for it, but all she did was shake her head. “C’mon, tiger, let’s get you back to bed. I need to go play slave girl.”

It turned out she wasn’t the only one who knew how to pull strings. Med patch delivered medications or not, the thought of Stephanie playing slave girl kept him up for a long, long time.

With the bedroom door closed between her and Jason, Stephanie could think again. Well, that wasn’t exactly correct. She could think just fine. Only when she was close to Jason, important stuff, like survival, fell to second place. One thing was sure; Mom had it all wrong about the bond and their addictions.

There wasn’t any question of who she wanted. Roger used her like a teenaged boy used tissues. He didn’t feel anything for her except an inflated sense of ownership.

Jason, on the other hand, gave her goosebumps. He didn’t need to tell her how he felt. All she had to do was look into his eyes. And Jason was right, darn it, she still loved him.

The only problem about going with Jason was keeping him alive. Once Roger learned of her defection, he’d do anything to reclaim his property. Sure, Stephanie was fast, and under normal conditions, she could take any single man. Roger, though, could afford to send a SWAT team.

How could anyone protect themselves from a sociopath with a billionaire’s resources?

What she needed most right now was a cold shower and a hard heart. Ten years ago, the choices leading to tonight had come easy. Now, faced with reality, Stephanie knew she needed to give up on a “happily ever after” life. If Jason were to live, she had to make him leave. Straightening up and walking towards the stairs. Another thought struck her. What if Roger wanted sex tonight? Would she? Could she? With Jason down the hall?

Once on the first floor, Stephanie headed for a bathroom. There wasn’t time for a shower, but she needed to clear her head.

Five minutes later, calm and collected, Stephanie emerged from the first-floor powder room. Jason’s dangerous presence was relegated to that secure section in her mind, the one she inherited from her mother.

When she passed the doorway into Roger’s home office, he called out, “Where have you been?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Stephanie simpered in her little-girl voice. Dropping back into the role came easy. “your little girl was in the potty.” To help misdirect him, she placed a hand on her stomach. Of course, he understood the implication.

“Bring me a drink, the usual.”

A minute later, Stephanie sat a rocks glass, containing precisely two ounces of scotch and three drops of water, next to his left hand. As per their routine, she waited until he tasted it. He did and gave her an approving nod.

“Have a seat, Snookums. We need to talk.”

How unusual, Roger never talked to her. He’d tell her what he wanted, even direct her activities, but they never spoke.

“I just got off the phone with my agent. We thought your pregnancy unusual because your father claimed you were only fertile after an episode.”

Uh-oh, she hoped he would have overlooked that. What Roger called “episodes” were the mood shifts she experienced with ovulation. Now, here she was, face-to-face with a man who missed nothing. She had one chance and answered him with complete and total honesty. “Daddy’s right. His baby girl hadn’t felt funny at all lately.” When she looked into his eyes, her face was as guileless as that of a baby.

Her owner took a swallow of his scotch and smirked. “Yes, well, Gene doesn’t know everything, does he?”

Roger’s distrust of Gene went back to the beginning. Her new owner’s fumbling attempts at lovemaking, not to mention his disability, made bonding her much more difficult. Gene and Roger argued. The few times Stephanie had overheard their conversations, her father hadn’t bothered to hide his contempt.

To give Roger an answer he’d accept, all she needed to do was shake her head. Roger’s ego and his belief in Gene’s unreliability filled in the rest.

Roger had Stephanie bring him another drink before dismissing her while he took care of business. The rest of the evening was spent sitting in the kitchen. She wanted nothing more than to sneak upstairs and wash Jason clean of all those women.

Later, while she and Roger prepared for bed, Stephanie again purged Jason from her mind. When she opened her lingerie drawer, she definitely did not search for a particular pink baby doll nightie because Jason loved her in pink. Nope, Jason and his well-toned muscles were the furthest things from her mind.

Roger watched her slip the nightie over her head with a speculative eye. “It’s too bad I’m so tired tonight,” he said.

On any other night, Stephanie would protest, telling him it needn’t take long, and of course, it would help him sleep. Tonight though, the thought of doing it with Roger caused her stomach to cramp. Instead of a reply, she rubbed her tummy again. Roger nodded and crawled into bed. Stephanie shut out the light and slid under the covers.

It was a long night. Part of her wanted to roll over and see if she could coax some interest into Roger. Another part wanted to sneak down the hallway and “check” on Jason. Not daring to do either, she lay there, wide awake and frustrated.

When she did sleep, strange fanciful dreams kept waking her. The most vivid had Jason and Roger, dressed as gladiators, fighting with her as the prize. Ridiculous, stupid dream, Roger wouldn’t fight for her. He’d call someone and have Jason murdered.

During her long sleepless vigil, Stephanie’s conviction solidified. She needed to keep Jason safe. That meant he needed to leave and never come back.

The alarm sounded. Stephanie slipped into her little girl robe and bunny slippers. While Roger sat up, she started his shower and laid out his razor.