Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 51

Marcus Sharpens His Plans - And His Expectations

Monday, September 9th, early morning

“This is stupid, Chloe!” I called out over my shoulder, throwing a glare at her as she emerged from the shelter.

She gave me a neutral glance while slinging one of the parachute belts over her shoulder, keeping her amusement hidden. It didn’t work… I knew it was there.

Dot dash dash dot, dot dot dot, dot dash, dot dash dot dot, dash, dot, dot dash dot.

We had taken shifts all night doing the same thing over and over again. That stupid pattern was burned into my brain so deeply that I could have recited it in my sleep.

“There’s no way this is going to work!”

“Marcus,” Chloe said, leveling her gaze at me as she raised her hands, displaying her palms toward the sky to show them empty. “If you have a better way of trying to reach them, I’m all ears.”

She was right, of course. As stupid as it seemed, Chloe’s plan felt like the only half-plausible way of possibly getting anyone’s attention. Our problem was simple: since no one had come for us, the helicopter’s transponder was likely broken, so there was no way for anyone to find us. Well, there was no way, except one, and that was the tracker Chloe had Shea implant in me when she messaged me for the first time in Vegas. The problem is… she hadn’t told anyone else about it. Even Shea had been fed some bullshit about it being a treatment for stress and sleep regulation to help me deal with the complications of becoming a billionaire. I didn’t understand all the lingo, but the words ‘subdermal’, ‘cortisol’, and ‘neurological therapy’ were used. Apparently, she didn’t want anyone getting wind that she had a way of tracking me, except for people she could trust to not only keep it a secret, but take that secret to the grave if needed. The only one that fit her criteria was Henry Psalter.

It was a fine idea until we ended up lost in a Norwegian wilderness with no way to know if anyone would bother telling Psalter about the situation. After all, he was busy doing important work by tracking down Roger VanCamp’s stupid face. He could very well show up in the next five minutes, or it could be days or longer before he was informed and was able to utilize the tracker to find us. Chloe wanted to do everything possible to minimize the chance of the latter.

And that’s where the remote to Helen’s vibrator came in. Besides the helicopter transponder, which Chloe had been unable to reach through the wreckage, it was the only thing that came even close to resembling something that could connect us to the outside world. After suggesting it around the fire last night, she interrogated me on how much I knew about it, which wasn’t much. I recalled what Erin had told me as she was packing my bag:

“It just has one slider for vibrator intensity… no fancy controls like pulse. It won’t show you battery life or anything, but it’ll still work. As long as you’re in range of a cell tower, you can probably use the remote, too.”

“Sounds like magic,” I’d said.

“Money works miracles,” Erin had responded as she laid a couple of shirts on top of it.

“This would be one hell of a miracle,” I muttered, manipulating the slider on the remote again. My thumb was going to have permanent arthritis after this.

“What was that?” Chloe asked, taking a couple of steps closer to me.

“Nothing,” I said. “Have a nice day at work, dear.”

“I’ll bring you back a present,” Chloe said, actually giving me a soft smile. She turned, kipped the pack up on her shoulder, and strode in the vague direction of the cabin. “Tell Astrid I said hey.”

I watched Chloe leave, appreciating that well-sculpted ass poured into denim that clung tighter than it had due to their dampness. It was difficult to stay dry when the air was soupy. At least it wasn’t hot like some southern swamp.

Chloe was bantering with me. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than the occasional dry snark I was used to. I knew she was quick-witted, but I didn’t think she could be funny and… pleasant.

I also didn’t know she could fuck like that. For all her talk about conserving energy, Chloe was a machine who wouldn’t quit until I was too tired to go on. I’d always enjoyed Chloe’s company when she decided to do more than grunt, but this was a whole new level. If we weren’t roughing it so much and afraid for our lives, I might have enjoyed it out here with just the two of us, getting to know her better.

There was Astrid, but she didn’t count, and I’d essentially been ignoring her since I called her out for her attempts to manipulate me.

…which was something I probably needed to rectify.

Sighing, I stood up and headed toward the shelter to pick up a power bar and some water, manipulating the controls every few minutes as I did so. Then I made my way to the helicopter, calling out as I reached the entrance. It wasn’t like she could do much damage, but I didn’t want to scare her and perhaps risk her attempting to utter a Norwegian curse that would follow my children… or whatever they did up here.

“You awake?” I asked.

A voice drifted from the helicopter a few moments later, “Yes.”

“Thought you might be hungry,” I said, leaning against the twisted remains of the chopper’s passenger door. I held up one of the rations as I peered down at the trapped woman.

“Starving,” Astrid said, and despite having the ability to display a great deal of emotional control, I saw the look of relief in her eyes as she focused on the food in my hand. It might have even been lust.

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry ,I didn’t come down last night to feed you. I kind of forgot about you.”

If what I’d said bothered her, she didn’t show it. “Chloe visited me briefly last night. She gave me a few more of those warmers, a cup of soup, and filled me in on her plan.”

“Oh?” I asked. It must have been after I passed out—which didn’t take long. After a day of scrounging and surviving in the wilderness, sleeping came quickly… especially in the arms of a warm, naked woman. We hadn’t even had sex. “Good.”

“I get the impression she doesn’t like me.”

“She’s pretty intuitive,” I admitted. “She could probably tell there was something off between us.” I tore open the packaging and waited for her to wriggle an arm free of its confines to reach for the offered food, biting a third of it off and chewing it ravenously.

“Mm,” she said, her blue-green eyes sliding halfway shut as her jaw worked to chew her food. She laid her head back down and reveled in the taste before swallowing it. I watched the muscles in her throat work up and down. Her pale porcelain skin was marred by streaks of dirt and a little bit of grime, but she was still beautiful enough that I imagined my fingers wrapping around that throat. I could almost feel it against my lips.