Author's Note: Wow, I'm so humbled and flattered by the comments I've received, both public and private. This series is so very dear to me and sometimes, I have to let it breathe for a bit before I wrangle it for y'all. Well, thank you all very much for your patience. Without further ado, the Wound in Time series continues with this installment. I know it's short but it's one of those chapters.
And as is known by now, the story contains mainly F/F action as well as a plot or so I've been told. It's a lengthy piece and thus, no instant gratification. Please check out the previous chapters if you want extra dirt on the characters. They're not listed in order but the titles are sequential as follows: (WIT)At First, Blind Borne, Escapade, Felon Failing Fallen, Just Juxtapose and Material Martyr. That said, read on and hopefully, enjoy the story. Please don't forget to comment....it truly helps the process 8D
TMAJO
As I lay your bed, so you lie on it.
*************previously******************
"Keep your hands to yourself." Mavin said coldly as she reached the place between Selene's thighs and ran a finger along the folds of flesh through the moist material. A current of electricity zigzagged up her spine and settled in her brain. She moved her fingers again, and it happened again.
"Or else what?" Selene teased, her mission forgotten for the moment.
Mavin didn't respond after that. She continued her exploration, still unsure of what she wanted out of it.
"You should know; when all this is over, I won't spare your life." Mavin ripped the woman's thong aside.
********************
The very audible rip was the last she could take. She pulled the dripping material out from under Selene's skirt and took a step back.
"You tell your boss, I'm not here to play. When y'all are ready to deal, you know where you can find me." With that the tall butch turned her back and left Selene shivering in the cold.
"What?!" Selene barked. "Who do you think you are?!" She screamed into the frosty air. But Mavin had already disappeared into the mist. "Fuck!"
************
She'd been sleeping a dreamless slumber when the metal clanging woke her up. She groaned at the crude alarm that was soon followed by an equally crude voice.
"Hey you, time to go!" A flash of light and a harsh scraping; she was dragged up to her sore feet by a pair of rough hands. "Someone would like to have a few words with you."
Bellinda mumbled something in a haze. Her skin crawled from exposure to the foul air. Before she could pick anything else to complain about, the redhead was thrust into a room with overly bright lights. She winced, snapping her eyes shut and attempted to get her bearings. She felt herself being pressed into a chair and as before, it was cold against her skin...jarring her senses.
A few minutes go by and her eyes had adjusted. She scanned the room slowly; taking note of the mirror on the wall that she didn't doubt was double-sided. She didn't dare to recognize the figure she saw. Her throat felt dry and her body ached with fatigue...how long had she been here, she wondered. Though, not for long as the door hissed open and in walked a man dressed impeccably in an expensive-looking wool suit wielding a sweating jar of what seemed to be water, and a glass.
She watched as he walked in; his steps calculated and oddly relaxed. He placed the glass on the table in front of her and proceeded to fill it with water. Bellinda kept her eyes focused on the water as it trickled into the glass; climbing higher and higher until the glass brimmed with the liquid.
She kept her eyes on the glass watching the condensation form, and didn't move, not knowing what to do really. She noticed that the man was standing, waiting for something. She rolled her eyes up to catch a glimpse of him. His face was smooth and considerably charming; dark eyes that danced with a playful glint were capped by groomed brows. His lips were tugged into a tiny smile...a stretch of a smirk.
"Have a drink, I know you're thirsty." The tone was disarmingly soft and designed to put her at ease. But the redhead felt nothing at ease in her position. She swallowed hard, trying to kick-start her salivary glands into action.
"What's in it?" She managed to croak.
"Hydric acid." He said off-handedly and walked to sit on the edge of the table.
"And now that I know, you still expect me to drink it?"
"Yes." He replied simply, clasping his palm together in front of him.
"And if I don't?" The subtle hint of his cologne wafted into her nostrils.
"You fail my expectation." He said with a small gesture of his hands; the large diamond ring gleaming on the smallest finger of his right hand.
"So what is this, a test?" She eyed him quizzically.
"You can call it that. I prefer to say an extension of hospitality." His voice rolled with a rhyme, every word assigned a delicate purpose and air.
"No thank you." Bellinda fought the urge to lick her lips.
"And here we are. Miss Ross, I'm afraid there's been a sore misunderstanding in these past events. However, simple the error may have been, correcting it would be more tasking for all involved."
"Spare me the jargon and cut to the chase."
"And I like you already. Have you heard of the Winston Operation?" He said in a too relaxed manner as though they were old friends chatting up on current gossip.
"No." Bellinda glared at him, wondering what his angle was.
"Well, I think I just might enjoy telling you about it...of course, while I cut to the chase." He ran a hand along his angular jaw.
Bellinda folded her arms and contemplated spilling the acid in front of her on him but not knowing what her next move would be was enough to keep her seated. Besides, she figured, whatever information this guy seemed so eager to offer could be of use to her somehow.
"I see that I have your attention." He said with a smile, showing a perfectly straight set of white teeth. He cleared his throat and began, "During the 1950s the Winston Operation was begun as a government-controlled scheme aimed at normalizing the masses. The American Dream was founded upon the ideals of happiness in suburbia, supplied by business in the urban enclave.
Of course, any type of growth in business was good for the government and if the masses remained too pleased for too long, business failed. So instead of waiting for the unhappiness to settle in by normal course, the Winston Operation was designed to construct it and present it to the people.
And what other way to instruct displeasure in the human psyche could be better than the human psyche itself? Hence the drive to 'normalize' the masses; make them believe that there is not only something wrong, but something better and they'll pay to the heavens for a better fix.
But indeed, it was easier said than done. The government likes to meddle without seeming to meddle. Thus, the task of creating hysteria was placed in the hands of the people themselves...well, those who sought to benefit behind the bureaucratic tape. The people made their own unhappiness and the government profited from allowing the solution."
"And who are these people?"
"The pharmaceutical industry." He said and reached for the glass of hydric acid. He downed half of it and set the glass down with a smile. "Refreshing."
In the same span of time that Bellinda spent wondering what the hell this man was doing drinking acid, it dawned on her that the fluid in the glass was in fact water.
"Drug companies?" Bellinda said, gleaming that much from the story.
"Yes, they make the drugs and then they make the illnesses. Then they sell the drugs and the government shares the loot. Everybody's happy."
"You could've just said that in the beginning." Bellinda said, her brows furrowed in irritation as she still couldn't see the point in her captivity.
"That would put you under the illusion that your involvement in this is moot, when in fact, you now play an important part in the scheme of things."
"And here we are," Bellinda spat, borrowing his line, "What do you want from me?"
"Not you Ms. Ross, but your father." He said with a conniving smile that made his eyes look that much darker.
***********************
"Dude, you need to chill a bit. Your freakitude is getting to me." Sam mumbled as she watched Mavin pacing from the corner of her eye.
"Don't tell me to fucking chill! Who are these people?" Mavin exploded, yet again.
"We're working to find that out and you're not helping." Sian cut in as she clacked wildly on her keyboard. It was hard enough trying to decipher the stream of code that encrypted the signal pass ways; Sian had never seen anything like it but she didn't need an irritable butch at her ear. "Okay I have a primary stream here, what do you have?"
"Deadzone." Sam muttered in frustration but she wasn't in a mood to relent. "Hang on maybe I can filter it out."
The signal they were tied up in came through on the transmitter chip that had been planted in Mavin's phone. They knew something was out of order when they began receiving haywire signals even though Mavin's phone wasn't getting any incoming calls. The signals traveled on idle back channels and due to the coded delay in the chip, Pyro and Maniac were able to pull out a primary stream.
They would've have been satisfied with tracking down the caller with that signal but realized soon enough that it wasn't being generated from a specific point. The behavior of the rest of the waves also struck the twins as odd. There seemed to be a crosshatching effect in the waves that was layered with 'deadzone' characteristics. It made no sense at first, second and third glance but they were intent on finding out why.
Mavin on her end grew impatient. With each passing moment, her imagination grew darker, more vivid. Her guilt over what almost happened with Selene plagued her even more; the taste, the feel, the scent of the woman drenched her thoughts and then came the nausea at her own impulsiveness. Hot on the heels of that was her desire to inflict pain on the woman, spurred by memory of Selene's heated moans. What
had
she done with the ruined panties? It was stashed next to her gun in her glove compartment.
In an attempt to distract herself, she wondered about Senator Ross and if he knew about Bellinda's whereabouts. She'd never actually met the man but now it seemed, they had much more than a common interest. Ah yes, exactly where her head needed to be. Bellinda...what had been the last thing she'd said to the redhead? -No, better to not think of last things.
Mavin's mind took off yet again with a tangent and landed on Federal Agent Turner. She wondered about the Oblivion3 investigation and the leads that seemed to point to A.J. Morris. The pompous bastard deserved to have the feds up his ass. A misplaced chuckle found Mavin backtracking to thoughts of Eva and her new job at H&B. She wondered about Kurt Pryce. Outside of the fact that he had a son named Jason, Mavin knew nothing about him. She wondered about the possible connection to José's death. No...don't go there.
