|Rules of Civilization
Author: ssoko PM
Tarzan will learn that rules aren't as useless as he think...Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Romance - Words: 18,587 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 1 - Published: 10-27-05 - id: 2635985
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Rules of Civilization
Typical declaration: I don't own any of the characters, story, and series of Tarzan. Edgar Rice Burroughs and WB created them. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. (At last that is what I hope)Author declaration: Ok once again I'm daring to use English to write a story... I'm not English speaker so I apologize for any typo you can find.
The evening fell onto New York City when a tide of multicolored heads was observed by two aqua eyes hanging from one of the highest building near the police department. His powerful hand was nailed to the handrail meanwhile the barefoot man balanced his body without fearing the cliff that opened up under him. He reached to the top and sat there waiting. From his position he could glance at the main door of the precinct. Jane was there. Two hours ago she had entered to this place. He waited for her return patiently but the sun was hiding behind the horizon and she hadn't come back yet. That wasn't a good signal.
Only seven days had lapsed after the trial and hardly three months after his involuntary arrival from the black continent. So many things had happen to John Clayton Jr. in so little time. But now he was free and with a chance to start his life in a new place again. The feral heir was accustomed to accept what life offered him without questioning the reason. If he had survived alone twenty years in that inhospitable wild world, surly he could adapt and survive in this strange world full with rules that he didn't understand as well. In fact he didn't want to understand.
John had stayed at his aunt's house although most time he passed being around of the person that had liberated him from his uncle's yoke, Jane. He was concerned about her. And even although she constantly said that everything was right he sensed that it wasn't true. After all they had been through he began to understand how and when she built the invisible armor around herself. But even her strong shield couldn't protect her from her most sanguinary enemy, her own.
His eyes were attached to this door while his mind was lost inside his own thoughts when his hearing perceived a scream. The voice awaked his senses so he turned around looking for the source's sound had come from. His muscles tensed while his gaze scanned the surrounding area. This was now his jungle, his place. It was different in many ways to the one he used to live in, but similar in other aspects. Both were dangerous, unbroken and unforeseeable. Eyeteeth and claws had been replaced by knives and guns. But one thing hadn't change, him.
Of course he remember Jane's last word, "Don't get you in troubles please…"
But he couldn't, he didn't want to change what he was, the protector, the guardian of his new home. "If someone needs help, I help," he whispered to himself getting up. He looked at the door once again doubtfully. "She would not come out soon," he sighed making his choice and began to run across the roof. Jumping to another rooftop several times, finally he stopped, took his time searching around and quickly found his objective. In the corner of a street a young man was assaulting a couple brandishing his huge knife to frighten them. The wild Clayton slipped down the wall. He didn't waste time fighting, Jane would need him so he just jumped on the thief. The man didn't know what hit him, just felt a heavy tug over his back that make him fell to the ground and then everything went black. After an ocular verification the barefoot blond decided that the assaulted were ok and he climbing the wall despairing.
Pierre Verdammt had waited for more than three hours curled in a corner of the building's roof near the police's station. So he witnessed how this huge barefoot blond guy came out from nowhere, hit the fellow and run away. Although he had been able take just two pictures his smile grew wide. The anonymous informant had indicated him the correct place to find the wild heir with complex of hero. He took out his cell-phone and cheerily assured "I found the guy! Believe me it's an amazing story!" He laughed, "I could see the headline: The city's new, blond barefoot hero."
Pamela Morton put her glasses on and started to read the autopsy report aloud. Emotionless she reviewed the technical details, emphasized the speculative part of the description and ended her reading saying. "By the position as the body was found," her fingers slipped the picture in front of the suspect's eyes so she could see it clearly, "and the distance of the wall it was, we can deduce that the victim was hanging several seconds, maybe one full minute, before falling down."
"It's exactly what I said in my declaration."
"Oh!" The agent remarked ironically, "the one you gave after the police discovered that you were implied in the murder."
"Micha… The detective Foster died accidentally," the auburn Detective assured containing her need to scream at this stupid woman. They had been giving blind turns around the same topic without being able to break her for more than one hour now.
"Have you realized Detective Porter that we are investigating your participation in the disappearance of evidence in the case of detective Foster's murder?" During her twenty years into the force the agent Morton had seen too many cases like this. The fact was very clear for her, evidently it was a passional triangle that had arrived at the worst end. She grinned wondering if Porter's fiancé would have surprised them in action that night on the roof.
Jane sighed thwarted, "it was a fatal accident. The case was also dismissed by the Judge."
"Exactly! Dismissed but not closed," the agent Peter McGregor assured opening the door difficultly carrying two smoky coffees. "That it is the reason for which we are here Detective Porter," He placed the cups on the table and his clear eyes inspected curiously at the suspect. "Do you have some idea how the evidence against John Clayton Jr. could disappear?"
Jane just shook her head showing the most angelical face she could. "I don't have a clue…"
The agent McGregor couldn't help but smile and agent Morton was getting impatient seeing her serene attitude. She needed to find one weak spot where to press on the Porter's façade to make it crumbled. Pamela drunk her coffee and tried another approach. "Why did you run away?"
Jane shook her head again, it was evident that they were playing the good and bad cop. Morton was doing an amazing job but McGregor... he was too soft. She smiled remembering the times when Sam and she interpreted both roles. It was odd to be on the other side of the table. "John Clayton Jr's life and my own was in danger. Didn't you find out about Gene Taylor's intentions to murder us? When the Detective Sam Sullivan caught him, we came back."
McGregor clarified sipping his dark hot liquid "But… You were arrested on the street."
"And John Clayton presented himself alone to face the trail," Jane talked recumbent on the back of the seat. "His case was dismissed so you need someone to blame, that's me for sure."
In spite of himself McGregor smiled wondering what this man had to make her endanger so many things for him. "You are too much emotionally involved with this man."
The detective went pale and shook her head vehemently in denial, "not at all!
But it was too late the agent Morton was aware of her edginess. Could be it the rip that she was looking for? Pamela pretended to read the report and commented aloud, "you and Mr. John Clayton Jr. were missing for three days." She made a brief silence searching the better way to make Porter uncomfortable and continued, "the detective Sullivan's car was found near where Taylor was caught… Interesting area. Completely lonesome, a perfect place to hide." She scratched her chin pensively and mockingly added. "And you two were alone for three days. ¿Have you enjoy your… romantic little vacations?"
"You have a dirty mind Agent Morton," Jane affirmed forcing herself to remain calm.
Pamela just smirked and pressed more. "Was it worthwhile?" Jane looked at her without understanding the meaning of her question. So Pamela's index finger pressed the pause button stopping the recording then while she gazed carefully the unpleasant expression of Porter's face hearing her question, "Was it worthwhile to kill your fiancé so you can fuck joyfully with your lover?"
Jane's calm attitude evaporated when she heard those words, "It's a lie!" She screamed smashing her fist on the desk. Morton grinned. Realizing what she had done Jane closed her eyes recovering the calm that she had lost seconds ago. Two seconds later she assured in a cold tone. "John Clayton and I have never become intimate that way."
Both cops began to laugh. "Yeah, sure. That was a great joke Detective," Peter McGregor stated not being able to stop laughing
"Do you take us for idiots Detective?" Pamela scornfully commented, "Do you want to make us believe that you kept on your underwear being with him?" Taking out a picture of John she placed it near the Mike's cadaver one. "You have a good taste on men Jane, I have to admit it. But was it really necessary to kill Michael Foster to be able to fuck him?" Her index finger hit several times on John's face.
Although Morton expected an explosion, this time the detective's voice sounded calm when she answered, "I already told you Agent, John Clayton and I have never become intimate. I never slept with him. If you want to believe it… good, if you don't want to believe it… good. It's doesn't matter to me."
"Yeah, sure…" Morton commented ironically pressing the button and the recording continued. "Explain us your relationship with Mr. John Clayton Jr. please."
"We're just friends."
"Intimate friends…" McGregor assured one more time
"No agent McGregor, just friends as you and agent Morton are…"
'Touché,' He thought amusing. "Are you somehow are emotionally involved with Mr. Clayton?"
Jane sighed upset. "What does it have to do that with the case?"
"Answer my question please." He insisted
The Detective took her time to answer but her reply didn't sound convincing, "No."
"Do you keep in touch with Mr. John Clayton Jr. after the trial?"
"Yes" What had this man in mind? She wondered.
"So there really exists kind of a relationship between you and him…" He acclaimed triumphantly "How can you assure that you are not emotionally involved with this man?" She didn't argue so he kept talking, "You are so attached to him that you put your career and your freedom in danger to protect him. Of course that I can't prove it, otherwise we would not be chatting... I would be handcuffing you." He got up slowly and opened the door of the interrogation room. "You can leave now but keep in mind that we will watch over you." Without wasting any second the Detective went out of the room. When she passed near Peter McGregor he whispered on her ear, "I really hope he deserve your devotion."
Jane left the Precinct's building with the odd sensation that her case had not worked out as good as she expected. Morton and McGregor's endless and illogical interrogation had been extremely exhausting for the detective's beaten nerves, but the Captain Connor's tiresome speech had been a hundred percent worse. She remembered his words intoning them bitterly, "I do it to protect you… yeah, sure Captain… but it seemed to be just the opposite." She said to herself without knowing how she would endure the punishment. "I was a fool expecting something different." She argued ironically "I run away with a fugitive… it doesn't matter if he was or wasn't innocent. I broke the damn rules," then her smile grew wide, "God! Even I believe that my rules are lies!" The Detective Porter walked completely sunken inside her own thoughts and didn't see when a muscular blond" barefoot jumped down from some stairs andunexpectedly appearing in front of her. She just kept walking until she collided with his massive chest. Reacting mechanically she stepped back. When she raised her eyes, she smiled and instantly got lost inside his aqua soul eyes. "Hi… Tarzan!"
The sound of Sam's voice, that came running behind her, broke the spell "I'm sorry to break this Kodak moment but I want to know how are you after Connor boring speech and the unjust punishment he give you?"
"Punishment?" John asked concerned. Daintily his callous hand caressed the feminine cheek in his own special way. Jane wondered how this simple act could transmit to her so much confidence but unconsciously she took a step back breaking the contact.
"Sam exaggerates," she whispered "it could have been worse."
"Worse!" The black man shrieked, "Connor has sent you to archive cold cases!"
"Cold!" The blond guy stared at her wondering what they were talking about.
Jane hurried to explain him, "it's how we call the unsolved cases. It's not big deal.
"Are you kidding?" Sam shrieked again, "it's the worst thing that can happen to a detective! She will stay sat down the whole day surrounded by old files." Looking at her he remarked "You can say good-bye to the action, to any promotion. Your future is dead. You will be tied to that desk for ever and ever…
"Amen…" She couldn't hold the sarcasms.
The young Clayton shook his head. "But if they aren't solved Jane can solve them."
"Oh! The monkey boy is too positive! " Sam mentioned amusingly "I know you trust in Jane's cop ability but… man a mountain of good policemen has worked on them for a long time and they haven't been able to be solved them. So they can't be solved."
John tilted his head "Jane explained to me that her job was like a puzzle." Facing her he added, "And you love to solve puzzles. So why would it be different? You could find some pieces that another cop didn't find." Then he grinned "And I will help you..."
Sullivan exclaimed openmouthed "Jeez man… I don't know if this is a good idea. Look what happen after she helped you." Giving a big sigh Sam exclaimed "I admire your optimism monkey boy! But you forget something important. She lost her partner." Sam snorted angrily "Jane and I are not partners any longer. And that my friend is a tragedy of galactic proportions!" With totally theatrical expression Sam finally admitted "Because with my last experience with a new partner I'd rather do ikebana…"
"Do you want to nail yourself a dwarf tree?" She said containing her laugher "Didn't you mix up terms and mean hara-kiri?"
"No at all!" He answered raising his arms and shaking his hands "I would never nail a knife into me! It is very painful and it would ruin my new silk shirt."
Jane couldn't help but laugh. She knew that all this bullshit had only one purpose, alleviate the tension and the anguish that she tried to hide not very well. She just kissed his cheek thanking him. John observed them smiling. Sam could be ironic and have a peculiar sense of humor that rarely he understood. But his concern about Jane was genuine. It was interesting to see as both interact, evidencing the friendship that they professed.
Several 'clicks' perceived by his sharp auditory sense broke the thread of his thoughts. He looked around searching for the source. His eyes noticed the hidden silhouette in the roof of one building. Grunting he started to move toward there when Jane's hand stopped him. "What happen?"
"Someone is watching us." He said pointing out. Sam picked his phone immediately sending few men to revise the place but he didn't finish the conversation when John warned. "They are gone…"
"Your uncle will have an official visits…" Jane started to protest but the young Clayton cut it.
"They aren't Richard's men… They don't smell like Greystoke."
Five minutes later from the roof two policemen beckoned informing that they had not found anybody. The Detective Sullivan turned to face his ex-partner "Better you two leave. Take the monkey boy to his house and please stay out of troubles…"
The fork spun winding the spaghetti daintily. The young Clayton raised his eyes waiting the next instruction. "Now take it to your mouth this way…" The young Porter sister explained showing how it should be correctly doing. Giving one big mouthful the fork's content disappeared into her mouth.
Now it was John's turn. Imitating his teacher the pasta vanished inside his mouth as he chewed it just how Nicky had taught him. Delighted he swallowed it. This food was flavorful, a little complicated to eat but he had a good time to learn how to do it.
Once more John's fork spun catching the pasta that later disappeared inside his mouth without staining anything this time. As reward Jane's huge smile illuminated his heart.
The auburn detective observed both of them with a wide smile. It was fascinating to see the interaction between them playing this charming the game. But a black cloud hung constantly over her heart. The whirlpool of the events had prevented her to think, but now the anguish and the blame hit hard her heart again. Her life with Mike was so meaningless that it had left no traces? Had everything they built together was so weak that a simple breeze could demolish it? It couldn't be right that she felt cheerful when her fiancé had died less than two months ago. Surely something very bad should be inside her, that was the reason why all what she had believed sacred had lost their significance so quickly.
Until John's arrival to her life she had never been considered herself as an inconstant woman, but the evidence was overwhelming. Her life had been built over a thick column that ended being of butter. And now she could only watch the rubbles with which she had been to rebuild her life again. Would she be able to trust herself one more time?
When Jane raised her gaze from the empty plate she found his aqua eyes staring at her. She blushed and smirked. Evidently what happen on the precinct had revolved more than a memory of her heart. He inclined his body learning his big hand on hers as a silent supporting manifestation.
Nicky reacted quickly, her presence was unnecessary this time, so she began to take out the dishes of the table commenting that she had to study and before Jane could say anything the young sister was out of their view.
The auburn woman sighed and opened the dishwasher when she felt his stare on her back. She closed the door programming the machine. It was a good moment for a coffee, she needed one. While the black liquid fell heavily inside the cup she asked him if he wanted an orange juice. He didn't answer, just stood there watching her.
Abruptly he asked "Are you afraid of me?"
"Afraid!" Jane, astonished, shook her head "Why should I fear you?"
For an answer his right hand ascended to her face and his callous fingers caressed her cheek. Instinctively she pulled back. "If you're not afraid, why do you move away?"
"Sorry John. I'm not ready for this…"
"Not ready for what? " He smirked enlightened when she blushed. "I'm not asking anything."
"I'm not even ready for this conversation…" She assured when she poured the black liquid into the cup. "Do you want some juice?" She went to the refrigerator and took out the orange juice, put it into a big glass and placed it near him.
He watched her to drink the black beverage and suddenly he inquired "Why do you think that I can't understand you?"
That was an absolutely unexpected question. She choked and started to cough. "I never said that!"
"You never say anything. " He assured with hurt tone. "You ask me time to know each other, but how we could do it if you don't talk?"
"John. I, I…" She didn't find how to disagree to what he just said so sighing she searched an excuse "I am still grief for Michael's death."
"You have to let him go…"
"What are talking about? He is dead!"
He leaned forward placing his hand over hers "Dead, he has more power over you than when he was alive."
She looked at him stunned. Jane wanted to disagree but she only could rise compulsively and ran to her bedroom. He silently followed her hearing her voice whispering "I hurt him, I hurt you…" She opened the window "You should be better without me."
She turned to face him "I deeply hurt the person I supposedly was in love with." Her eyes filled with bitter tears "I lied and betrayed the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." She looked into his eyes saying. "You are very special for me and I would hate myself if I do to you what I did to Michael… So go away to look for a woman that deserve y..."
The callous finger leaned on her lips preventing her to continue speaking. "Why would I go? Do I seem a stupid brat that runs way crying like an idiot just because you get scared and won't be with me?" His finger slipped skirting her lips. "I survived twenty years in the jungle because I never give up when I found a problem. I conquered it." He grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart "Without knowing me you put on risked your life, your job and your future."
"That was my job…" She said with a voice thread.
"Tell me the name of another cop that does it for a completely stranger?" She didn't have an answer. He smiled adding" You can fight against what we feel, you can find all the excuses that you want but you have to know one thing. I never give up on you.
"But I… Mike…"
"I understood Why Michael was so desperate when he understood that he had lost you. He fought until his last minute for you… you're worth it." He smiled shyly and pressed his lips on hers. It was a simple gesture but it broke all her objections. Unhurriedly he pulled back saying "I saw too many people do it to express how they feel. " He walked to the windows "You have to sleep, tomorrow will be an important day for you. So I will come by in evening to know how your day was." He climbed to the cornice, said good-bye and left through the windows.
She stood there without being able to move or said anything for more than five minutes. Slowly she raised her hand and touched her lips. It was completely naïve gesture, but it moved her in a way she couldn't explain. Jane couldn't understand how but slowly and inexorably that man was entering into her life and there was nothing she could or wanted to do to stop him.
The dawn blunted the first morning rays that playfully shone on all feral, gold-haired heir, who, sat down on the top of one luxurious penthouse of the City, watched the daybreak. From this special place he could glimpsed the building's contours where the detective lived.
His knuckles leaned on the cold marble as he walked on all fours. It was in hours like this when he could go back to his primitive form. He could be an ape when no one watched over him. But he was aware that he had to make some important choice. He had to step ahead. He needed to learn how to read and to write once more. That was an indispensable requirement to fit correctly into this odd civilized world.
He ran all over the entire rooftop for the last time feeling his freedom to be wild. In the jungle most of the days were spent looking for food, but here that problem no longer existed. He had too much free time. He had to do something. Jane was right, he couldn't be after her the whole day. And now to recover his capacity to read was a good alternative. Possibly Kathleen's idea of taking classes with a tutor was not as disheveling as he had considered at first. So after a brief consideration of his options Tarzan decided that he would accept to have a teacher. Besides, the chosen one was Maggie Knightly, the daughter of some friend of his aunt. She wanted that he meet other people than detective Porter. He grinned, who knew maybe he could learn how to fit into his lady's life by observing other women.
At the same time, far away from that roof, the alarm clock hummed loudly on the night table of Jane Porter. She opened sluggishly her brown eyes, stretched her arms yawning and slowly but determinedly she get up to face what the day afforded her.
After her usual morning exercises, a quick hot shower and a strong black coffee she was ready to go downstairs, climb into her car and drive to the precinct. She circumvented entering by the main door, any needless contact with Morton or McGregor was to be avoided. She would have time to say hello to Sam later.
After the Captain Connor's brief indications, it was easy to find the office where she would work under Hubert Latimer's command. The mid fiftieth old-bloodhound was a respected person inside the precinct. A bullet wound on his right leg forced him to use a cane and restricted him to the area he worked at the moment.
Slowly she opened the wooden door entering a gigantic room filled with shelves full of enumerated boxes. "Hello" She called shyly. Looking around she didn't find anyone. Latimer was famous by his explosive temperament, so the detective didn't want to begin her first day of work with the wrong foot. "Is anybody in there?"
From the bottom a thick masculine voice answered her, "Over here." Sighing and containing her edginess she walked ahead through labyrinth of long shelves with boxes. In one of the corners in front of a desk full of portfolios, a gray haired man with a dense mustache was gazing at her. Immediately he observed the wall clock raising a brow, "You came five minutes early, that's good." And to break the ice he added "What implies that you are as addicted to the work as me, but I doubt it, or you are very afraid to work with the ogre…" He grinned "I know my nickname in the precinct." Heavily he rose extending his hand to her, "welcome to the grave…"
She took his hand pressing it sturdily "Thank you sir." She grinned back "I have to admit that I'm quite addicted to my work. Just ask Detective Sullivan. He can tell…"
"Yes. Even Connor warned me about your…" he made a long pause "…problem to follow orders when some blond guy is on danger... "
"Sir I don't know what the Captain told you, but I followed my guts in that case for first the time in my live and I was right. I have no problems to follow orders or rules sir. But I learned not to follow them blindly sir…"
The old man sighed "Detective… I will put aside all the recommendation Connor gave me about you. We just start anew working here." He stepped to a coffee machine pouring two cups "What was done, was done. And I really need help with this job." He gave her one cup full of black smoky coffee "I hope you are not as useless as I am with the computer… because I need you to classify each one of the cases that are on this table according to my classification system "He explained the basic elements she had to be aware of enunciating the used classification "You should write a brief summary with the main data into the computer." As he explained what she had to do, she understood that the task wasn't easy at all but when she eyed the files surprised she discover a completely their atypical structure "…and no matter how much the Captain protests I will…"
"…not change this configuration," she interrupted him, "they are more understandable and easy to check. I'm impress sir…" She raised her eyes looking at him.
He grinned once more thinking 'It could be possible that for one time in his life Connor send me the correct person?' "That was my intention when I made them. But I'm too slow typing so lady you have a lot work to do." He took a step aside "This will be your desk so I let you work."
For her that task seemed to be a test that she had to go through. So she simply nodded, she hung her jacket to the back of the seat and sat down. She had all she needed, the files, the computer and her coffee. And suddenly Connor's idea didn't seem a punishment anymore. She was working again. So during four hours her mind got lost inside the different cases that she should file.
Kathleen read the title 'The city's new, blond barefoot hero' wondering how she could loosen her media grip. This tiny news wasn't a problem but it showed that John was exposed to the paparazzi. The photo's signature pointed to Verdammt, a French photographer famous for his perseverance and patience stalking celebrities. She sighed, a simple phone call couldn't prevent his future meddling. She should look for something to keep John busy, that way it would prevent him from wandering for the roofs to roof. She sighed again, that was useless. What could keep him inside the house?
Suddenly John's voice responded to her question "I want to learn how to read and write."
She raised her eyes to look at her nephew. Did she listen correctly? "What?"
"I want to learn how to read and write." He said again.
Kathleen heard John's words and grinned. There was the answer she needed. Fearing he could pull back later she hurried to pick up the phone and called the teacher to arrange their first interview for that day, two o'clock in the afternoon. When she hung up she couldn't hold her happiness. "John this is your first step to ascend to the civilized world. I'm proud of you."
He whispered a "Thank you." But didn't know what she really meant with those words. Until now that civilized world hadn't shown him any advantage concerning the one he already knew but Jane's presence. He had too much free time and had to do something, but he kept quiet and didn't mention it to his aunt that joyfully jumped for his appropriate choice.
In the meantime on the other end of the phone line a brunet with green eyes considered the answer that newly she had just given to the friend of her father. Maggie Knightly taught children whose agenda didn't allow them go to the school normally. It was undeniable that her father's position inside the advertising world had opened to her the doors of this exclusive address.
It was a peculiar case and her first thought had been to reject the job but her boyfriend convinced her to take this opportunity. She didn't understand his reason very well but she didn't complain, she had enjoyed vastly his effort to convince her. She grinned remembering the night before. Oh! Pierre was simply charming, extremely handsome, ardent and an expert in pleasing women. He was French and wanted to be a successful photographer but he had to resign with the easiness and the money that was offered him by the yellow press. She didn't know if he would ever be ready for commitment, but she hadn't found her soul-mate yet either. So before the perfect man appeared she could have a good time with others guys.
Soon the time for the appointment arrived. From the windows of her car Maggie watched the Clayton mansion. She grinned pleased "Who knows, if the guy is not too much ugly… This is a nice place to live." She whispered parking the car.
Mary led her to Kathleen's office where she exchanged a few words with the concerned aunt. Her task didn't seem to be easy. The gossips spoke about John's terrible temperament and the rumors about his dismissed trial were still around. But all her doubts suddenly evaporated when her student timidly came through the door.
"Maggie I want you to introduce you to my nephew, John Clayton Jr."
Very subtly and without losing her composure the teacher slipped her gaze over the masculine figure. The man was gorgeous dressed with this partially unfastened dark green shirt and those ample brown pants. His hair was caught in a pony-tail so nothing covered his perfect features except his incipient beard. It was really difficult to stay stoically calm seeing such an Adonis but Maggie pretended to listen to what Kathleen said.
Although the teacher showed herself serene and professional Tarzan could perceive the hormonal mess that he had caused on her. Lately he perceived that kind of reaction in lots of women when he was around.
Maggie's voice sounded melodious asking where he preferred to study. His answer was obvious. "The Atrium."
He showed her the way and both ascended the stairs. When the door opened a whistle escaped of the teacher's lips. She couldn't believe what her eyes saw. "You have your private jungle here!"
He just smiled proudly. With a simple motion he indicated her to sit down on the grass. She hesitated a second but sat down without further complaint. She had lots of questions into her mind.
It was queerly flattering to John as he noticed her interest in his savage live. It seemed that her curiosity was inexhaustible. She asked him to explain how to climb a tree, to build a nest, to hunt. She was particularly excited with his hunting stories and his confrontations with big wild beasts. Little by little he felt more comfortable and started to talk about his first encounter with his uncle. Her eyes grew wide listening his relate of how those strange white men shot his mother without provocation.
"Your Mother!" She repeated astonished "I thought that she had died in the plane crash!"
"That was my human mother…"
She smirked "That one wasn't human?"
"No she was a gorilla…"
'Ok, this guy needs a shrink urgently' she thought but aloud said "Cute! You were raised by a gorilla…" 'Ok the guy could be a nuts but still was breathtaking so girl you can put this weird things aside and concentrate in his handsome face.' She forced the conversation to a more pleasant side. "Who did you date with in the Congo?"
"Dating? What is dating?
That was surprising to her "Did you meet some girl when you lived in the Congo?"
He shook his head "There wasn't anyone like me there."
'It couldn't be true' she couldn't believe it he was extremely handsome "You never…" She didn't know how to say it without hurting his feelings, "you never …"
He grinned "I never had mated with a woman." He had the advantage of not having grown with the taboo of the western civilization. He had nothing to be ashamed of.
Maggie nibbled her lower lip as her imagination flew to the tropical jungle imagining him with his Adam's suit. She grinned. She wouldn't hesitate to take the first opportunity of being his Eve. Maliciously she considered that would be more fun to be the snake. This breathing-take-man was too much innocent. She will find the occasion and the way to make him bite the apple…
But his words suddenly got her off of the cloud she was just sitting at "But I hope to mate soon with Jane…" boisterously she was smashed against the reality "I belong with her."
"Are you her… boyfriend?
He considered her question. That word was the one Jane used to explain to him what Michael was. "That is what I want to be…" It was his honest answer. "But she said that she is not ready yet…"
Maggie grinned. "So the battle is not lost yet" and maliciously added "I can help you with that if you want."
John didn't hesitate one second "I would like it."
Her smile grew wide. This job would be much more pleasant than she had thought at the beginning. "Ok. So we got a deal. I'll teach you how to read and how to win the girl of your dreams…" He nodded delightedly "But perhaps this part of our deal had to remain as a secret between us."
Tarzan smiled satisfied, all the help he could get to win Jane's heart was gladly received. But the teacher had planned something completely different for him.
The detective sat down behind the wheel leaning her hands on it. She exhaled noisily. She was too tense and her neck hurt. Spinning her head slowly she tried to relax. Her journey had ended and it had not been the mortal trap that she had feared in the beginning, but now she felt her body heavy and completely numb. "Calm down girl" She commanded herself. In fact, although it had been exhausting to write all those files in the computer, the cases were sufficiently intricate to get her attention. Several of them were very interesting. Indeed Hubert had responded kindly, even with some enthusiasm, to each one of her questions. She should admit that her day was quite positive.
She needed to distract herself and had the perfect plan. Nothing better that the Porter Special, pizza and movies. Of course she already had chosen the perfect barefoot-blond person whom she would share the Friday's nights with. Jane had the ideal movies selection to introduce the feral Clayton into the DVD's world, and he wouldn't have problem to eat pizza, so it was a simple and infallible plan. Consequently the detective turned on the engine and automatically drove the car to the mansion. It took her more than forty minutes to arrive to Central Park where she parked in front of the main door of his big house. She descended and, whistling a tune, she headed to the entrance. Seconds later Mary opened the door showing her a big smile "Good evening Miss Porter. I think Mister Clayton is still with his teacher…"
Wow that was something new. "Teacher?"
"He has decided re-learn to read and write" Joyfully Kathleen answered from her office's door "I didn't lose time fearing that he could pull back so…" She explained walking toward the detective "Reginald Knightly, a friend of mine, is her father and it seems that I made the right choice. They have been chatting in the atrium for more than four hours and I haven't still heard a single growl yet."
The detective grinned. "So he has not bitten anybody yet." She teased the happy woman.
"Detective Porter!" The aunt complained and assured proudly, "John has behaved wonderfully this last week… in spite of what the picture of the 'New York Today' Shows…"
"Picture? What picture?" The detective frowned, "What are you talking about?" The aunt simply took the paper and placed it in front of the detective's shocked eyes. Obviously she had been sunk into her own problems and didn't even look at the newspaper.
"But it is not a big deal," the aunt tried to smooth the moment, "a Clayton saves a couple, it shows him as a hero…
Jane remained silence for a few seconds. That wasn't right. "I'm worried." She told herself loudly "How the paparazzi could take this picture?"
"By chance!" The publisher assured "I'm protecting John's backs. Knowing me," she grinned "no journalist would be as stupid as defy me openly."
"Could be" Jane said not too much convinced "It would be creepy to find out that the paparazzi are jumping roof to roof to take John's image."
The aunt roared with laughter, "They couldn't follow him…"
"Yeah" The detective was doubtful. "But someone took this picture…" Shaking her head she added displeased, "he had promised me that he wouldn't look for troubles!"
"Jane!" Kathleen warned, "you have to accept the fact that he couldn't remained still when he see someone in danger… You have to admit that he is doing a huge effort to fit in our world." Sighing the older woman assured, "and he is doing it for you!"
"That's true…" Jane blushed and then her face turned pale. "I only hope that Richard wouldn't be behind the paparazzi incident."
"It seems after the limousine incident he had desisted from his intentions to pursue John…"
Jane looked at her mockingly, "Do you truly believe that Richard won't bother, pursue or attack him anymore?"
Kathleen smirked. "Oh! It's much to expect but not to ask… right?" Darkening her expression she confessed "I fear that my brother is taking his time preparing his next strike."
"You're right… I doubt that Richard give up with his intensions to control John. He needs an uncontrollable and dangerous John Jr. so he can accuse him of being insane and control John's money."
"Hello." A husky and sensual voice surprised them both. The muscular barefoot-blond was standing inches from the detective showing his white teeth in a charming sexy smile.
Lost into his heavenly blue eyes Jane needed some seconds to react. Finally she was able to murmur a small. "Hi." But her smile vanished from her face when a tall brunet leaned out over the handrail of the stairs. Jane found her gaze defiant. 'That was the teacher?' Evidently she knew the answer was: yes, and it didn't please her at all. Her internal alarm started to scream loudly in her head. Hundred of reasons came to her mind explaining why that woman represented a danger for the wild heir. He was too naïve, too inexperienced and innocent so any unscrupulous female could take advantage of him.
The concern on her face was evident even to John that turned pointing to the woman saying "It's only my teacher."
Of course his words didn't sound gratifying in Maggie's ears, but she didn't show her feelings. Smiling falsely she extended her hand and cheerfully introduce herself. "Nice to meet you…"
The detective watched the hand and slowly raised her own to shake it. "Jane, Jane Porter. Nice to meet you too…" She lied and requested "Sorry, I don't know your name."
Listened to her name Jane made a mental note. 'Monday morning I will check all the antecedents of this young lady.'
Kathleen carefully watched Jane's expression. "So Jane you're not as blind as I presume you are. You just realize that you have competition." The aunt smiled maliciously. "Perhaps this idea will help more than I thought."
John was a little confused with Jane's actions. He knew she was lying about the teacher. He didn't know what to do. He was learning to read and write again with the simple purpose of fitting into Jane's world. Maybe it was better to end it and to continue as they were, but suddenly Jane took his hand saying. "John and I have plans for this evening so…" tugging him smoothly up stairs she added, "if you don't have problems Kathleen I will wait for him on the atrium while he changes his clothes. Nice to meet you, Maggie." Smiling she wrapped her arm around him, "Please John, could you hurry up." He allowed her to pull him upstairs astonished but happy. He liked that change in her.
The bushes were a good hiding place for the photographer that patiently expected his prey's appearance. He had waited for more than an hour with his camera ready to shoot. He grinned remembering his big effort to act naturally in front of Maggie, pretending some indifference, listening to hers shacking words. It was a blessing that Maggie loved to speak after having sex. It had been very useful for him, now he could plan easily each step he had to follow.
The savage blond heir had impressed her so much that she had become a waterfall of information. And that kind of information was priceless because he planned to publish a series of articles in "New York Today." A lot of people called this paper 'yellow press´ and sneered, but the newspaper filled his pockets with money in a generous and satisfactory way. He couldn't complain, he really enjoyed this job. And this time he had a gold mine into his hands.
If half of what Maggie had told him was true, he simply could aspire to publish his article even in the Washington post. He was lucky to have this girl at his side… she was his ticket to fame.
But too keep that fame with him he had to be careful choosing the right journalist to compose the text. He could choose some good writer or an unknown one. There were many students eager to put their names under one article and this media world was a jungle where any journalist could become a predator willing to be gobbled the work of a colleague without any remorse. And one powerful reason to hide his name was that behind of the charismatic caveman was Kathleen Clayton. It wasn't wise to have her as an enemy. He needed just a silly enthusiastic fool that consent to put his name on it, he would keep gladly the money.
But this time what he needed was a good picture to adorn the article. So the hidden French photographer, with his camera ready, gave a sigh of relief when he saw his objective approaching. The wild mass of muscles came walking beside his last night lover. The fascination on the teacher's face bothered him. Although his intentions with this woman didn't reach beyond the bed, the imp of the jealousies punctured his heart. Why didn't she look at him like she looked at that troglodyte?
Vehemently he shook his head to throw these thoughts out of his mind. The fact was obvious, into his own scale his job weighed much more than what he could feel for her. Besides their relationship was open, they had agreed on it from the beginning. "You have a job to do man!" He commanded to himself and started to shoot the camera.
The barefoot-blond walked attentive to what the teacher related about the Park when his ears perceived the slight sound of the camera working. Effortlessly he located the source; it was in front of them, behind some bushes. That was the same noise that he had heard in the neighboring-roof of the precinct days ago. This time the ape-man followed his instincts, grunting loudly he started to run toward the bushes surprising and scaring the teacher.
Verdammt saw him coming through the viewfinder of the camera but he didn't move. He couldn't loose that furious expression. The camera didn't stop to capture each one of the movements of the wild man. Pierre had the spectacular picture that he was looking for. The photographer didn't lose time trying to escape, he couldn't waste his precious time running, and the troglodyte was already over him.
Tarzan took the man by the neck and effortlessly lifted him up. The French's shoes were to an inch of the ground. Immediately the hung man began to clear the throat and to cough so the ape-man relaxed his enclosed fingers. John's intention wasn't to strangle this guy. He wanted information. Was his uncle behind it? He attentively glared into his eyes, there wasn't fear there. He let his feet to touch the floor again.
But before he could ask anything the teacher's fuming voice yelled "Pierre Verdammt! What are you doing here?"
The photographer simply smiled winking his left eye "Isn't it evident darling?"
John spun his head and with a single sniff perceived the man's aroma on her. He grunted again "Do you know him?
She vacillated "He is just a friend…"
"Yeah, just a friend" Pierre remarked ironically, "a very close friend. You won't hurt her closest friend, don't you?" Showing an angelical fake smile he added, "Please!"
Tarzan lightened the fence but didn't freed him "Did you know that he followed us?"
She shook her head denying. The wild Clayton hesitated some instants and then released him. The man opened his mouth exaggeratedly inspiring. Tarzan tilted his head watching him. This Pierre guy was acting, he didn't throttle him. The man didn't thrill him.
After a second the photographer rose to his feet and extending his hand introduce himself shamelessly, "My name is Pierre Verdammt, my profession is to be a photographer of celebrities. Man I don't know if you are aware of it, but you're a celebrity."
The ape-man stood looking at his hand. Maggie approached and whispered to him "It is supposed that you take his hand and shake it very smoothly." John exhaled loudly doing what she indicated to him. "Now you have to say: Nice to meet you."
"I never lie" Tarzan said sharply.
Pierre could be anything but shy, quickly he searched for any topic to relax the tension between them but his useless chatter only lasted brief minutes. In the avenue a car began to zigzag.
The photographer's instinct made him grab the camera and instantly he started to take pictures of the car smashing against a tree of the sidewalk, while the instinct of the wild raised Clayton made him run to help the people caught inside the car.
The horn didn't stop screeching. The engine of the vehicle was totally smashed like an accordion. The driver was unconscious on the airbag. His companion, a young girl, cried hopelessly as she tried to get out of there but the gnarled door wouldn't move one inch. John didn't vacillate for one more second. His hands grasped the sides the door, his muscles tensed, the veins of his arms, neck and face acquired a reddish tonality from using all his strength. The door gave in under his pull and he was able to uproot it. Releasing at last, the mangled door crashed to the ground.
Pierre didn't stop to take photos, luck was on his side. He stepped aside when the second door smashed against the floor. Daintily Tarzan placed his ear on the driver wounded chest, he still breathed and his heart beat weakly.
The girl cried behind him "David!" The people crowded around while she couldn't stop crying "Please don't died!"
The siren of the ambulance was heard at the distance.
John listened attentively to the victim's heartbeats when they stopped. The girl kept crying "David, don't die!" But David's heart didn't beat. Tarzan watched her tearful face. The ambulance was near but he made his decision.
With a single tug he pulled up the belt and took out David's injured body. Carefully he raised him and placing him on the floor. Then John put his big hand over his wounded chest and rhythmically began to press. Under his skin the bones squeaked. The guy had some broken ribs. He softened the squash. Under his palms he could perceive the vibrations of the weak beats when they appeared again. Tarzan didn't stop of moving his hand up and down on David's trunk and Pierre didn't stop of taking photos of what he was doing.
And the ambulance arrived.
Without any protocol one of the doctors pushed John aside "What the hell are you doing?" He said setting the stethoscope on David's wounded chest. "Get out of here!"
"His hart beats slowly" The ape-man answered but no one listened to him, they were busy trying to save the kid's life.
Verdammt's went on captured the heir's disheartened and concerned expression contemplating the scene. But the only thing that the photographer could think about at the moment was what picture he would choose for the newspaper evening edition front page.
Jane sat in front of her computer. Premeditatedly she opened the searcher program, with Latimer's program she could find any person that had been entered into the system. The smallest crime incident appeared there.
Detective Porter observed the screen for a few seconds and then started to type a name: Knightly. A huge list unfolded on the screen. During fives minutes her eyes searched through the whole file, but the damn name didn't appear. She revised it several times, typed the name over and over again but Seemingly John's teacher hadn't even a tiny traffic ticket.
The auburn woman puffed disappointed. She won't give up on her stubborn hunt and when she was revising the list for the fifth time her pupils stopped on a different name: Eugene B. Knightly. Carefully she read the brief report under that name.
This man was a diplomat involved in a strange accident that had cost the life of a tourist named Federico García. Mister García fell from a building's roof dying instantly when his body collided with the ground. She read the description of the event attentively and when her eyes arrived to the address of the building her heart began to palpitate foolishly. Could it be really existed such coincidence? It was the same Michael fall's building.
"Hi ex-partner" Sam's dark voice took out off her pensiveness.
She lifted her gaze smiling. "Do what I owe the honor of your visit?" But she didn't wait to his answer. She got up and embraced him tightly.
Slowly he dropped the 'New York Today' on her desk and said mockingly "It seems the monkey boy has made a huge effort to get on the front page this time." There it was a full color picture of the barefoot blond pulling a smashed car's door up. "I thought you wanted to see this…"
Jane sighed eying the first pages of the paper, a large line of impacting pictures showed the scene. She exhaled loudly seeing how John took the wounded boy out of the car, placed him on the ground and assisted him.
" I know that the monkey boy made a big mistake but by now everybody consider him a hero…
She wagged her head "That doesn't make it better..." She sighed " How is the kid?
Sam shrugged "I really don't know, he is in one private sanatorium," the detective chuckled, "you should hear what they say about him on television. Your John is a celebrity."
"He is not my John!" She cut him sharply, "but too much publicity implies too many people around John. Nothing good could come from it." Watching her carefully Sam saw her take out her cell-phone dial the mansion number. For two minutes she tried to communicate without success. The line was saturated. "Damn! Somebody pick up the phone now!"
"Calm down girl! " The black detective clapped her shoulder "The kid is a hero…"
"He is not a kid."
He smirked, "but you didn't deny that he is a hero…"
"Yeah." She reluctantly admitted "Maybe you're right." She took the newspaper again gazing at the picture where the teacher was beside the wild heir. "But something is still bothering me."
"Of course," he assured mockingly "Her!" Before she could protest the detective Sullivan was bent on the monitor reaching his hand to the arrow key on the keyboard. "Interesting" the file slipped down "all these persons had the same last name… have you found a Maggie in here?" She didn't answer "This teacher is a terrible case," he teased her, "how does she dare to approach to your John without having a dark past which you can use against her? It isn't fair."
Jane just blushed, babbled some incoherent sentences and finally she granted "She didn't have a single unpaid penalty."
Sam roared with laughter "Did you know what your problem is?"
"No… but I guess you will tell me."
"Of course…" He made a lingering silence and shoot, "You're jealous!"
"Never!" She screamed blushing again.
The dark detective laughed louder "Come on girl, admit it! " Vehemently she shook her head denying his asseveration. "You can't deny the obvious girl, the jealousy is corroding you."
"Sam stops to talk foolishness. " She tried to stay calm.
"Foolishness!" He repeated gazing at her smiling. He was her friend and cared about her. The monkey boy could be rude, unpredictable and, he bet, had fleas, but he really loved her. It would be unforgivable that for her own stubbornness and voluntary blindness she lost the chance to be happy. Mostly Sam enjoyed pissing her off. "For god's sake girl you are completely territorial about him starting to snarl as soon as another female comes near your precious boy, and you don't even realize it!"
"You are being delirious!"
"Yeah, sure I am delirious! " He ironically stated "You're not searching desperately for some excuse to show that the teacher is a terrible danger to the monkey boy… Did you find something?"
Taking her time she answered "I'm not jealous. I have even told John that he should meet other people… other women…"
"Liar!" The detective Sullivan gazed at his former partner for some minutes trying to understand the meaning of her words. And suddenly all her doubts were clear for him. He simply affirmed "I just realize how much you fear to lose the monkey boy…"
"That's not true! " She protested energetically, but inside she knew he was right.
"God! You're terrified." Taking the newspaper he pointed to some pictures. "The boy is handsome. Do you see the entire feminine crowd dribbled by him? That is what terrifies you." Fatherly he clapped the detective's shoulder again. "He is crazy about you, but you fear …" Before she could object he added "But you don't fear to hurt him, you fear that he could hurt you… The boy attracts the chicks like a Calvin Klein underwear model. That is a fact. But it doesn't imply that once you introduce him to the world of the sex he will come out running to look for other women to taste those recently discovered pleasures. Don't let that an idiotic fear prevents you to be happy."
Jane couldn't reply listening to any of his words. How could he dare? That was a lie! She could admit that Tarzan had untied an emotional vortex inside her, constantly she found herself thinking of him. But to think that she feared to lose him, that any stupid woman came near him, temped him and he could… he could… Suddenly her own thought hit her, Jane jumped on her seat. Sam was right!
He could read clearly her concern on her face. "You only have half hour to go. I would advise you to stop searching ghosts and speak openly with the monkey boy."
She sighed "Maybe you're right."
He flashed a winning smile "Ex-partner, you should know by now. I'm always right."
The white sanatorium's walls watched expectantly as the cortege of journalists and paparazzi, which crowded together in the entrance, waited to the last news of the David's health. The young man saved by John was in the operating theater.
Sitting beside the concerned blond-barefoot man Maggie was evaluating what had happened in the last five passed hours. She didn't even understand why John had wanted to come here, but keeping in mind that the young heir was one of the most eccentric characters in town it didn't surprise her. She smirked remembering his reaction when the WB star reporter came closer asking for an interview. Her pupil showed his eyeteeth grunting audibly. The man mumbled, "Is he vaccinate against the rabies?" and walked away offended.
Looking at this reaction she wondered if a real chance to tame him really exists. Of course the taxi's trip was a torture for him and for her, listening his constant grunts, but she couldn't consent to that illogical idea of traveling over the rooftops. That was unacceptable, out of discussion.
Unquestionably people's tumult made him extremely nervous but she was delighted to be in the focus of such media's attention just because she was beside him.
After a brief phone conversation his aunt appeared in person at the clinic, listened carefully to what had happened, before any move she contacted her personal lawyer. 'This rich people are always so distrustful' were the teacher's thought while watching her talking on the phone. Then, by her nephew's request, Kathleen made sure that David had the best medical care. Although she didn't understand John's concern, she didn't vacillate of fulfilling what he requested.
For Kathleen it was relatively simple to deal with the media. In a few minutes she improvised a press conference where she responded every question concisely. Then courteously she asked them to retire, they were interrupting the normal development of the clinic. And finally, ending her speech, she pleaded with them to respect the privacy of the boy's family.
Of course they didn't get away but waited, more or less quietly, outside the building. In spite of her efforts she couldn't stop the media circus that would appear in a near future.
One hour after Kathleen's media conference had ended a slender colored blond woman in her fortieth arrived. She introduced herself as David's mother. Immediately the doctors explained to her the condition of her son. He was seriously injured.
John's aunt observed her picking her phone up and talking with somebody "My baby is in danger" she murmured containing her anger "I can't face this alone… he needs his father." Almost crying she explained, "The doctors explain to me that he had some broken ribs and one of them has perforated his right lung." After a brief moment listening to the words spoken on the other side of the line she added bitterly. "Drop out of your damn meeting down and come here now! He needs you!" She angrily cut the conversation and sat down in the opposed corner to the Clayton. With tears in her eyes she started to pray and wait.
The corridor was silent when the detective entered to the enclosure. She had called the mansion over and over again until, finally, Mary had answered. The maid informed her where aunt and nephew were. Hasty Jane drove her car toward the clinic.
Hardly had she stepped on the health center her perfume invaded the nasal cavity of the ape-man, but he didn't move waiting for her to came.
After a brief search her eyes located the disturbed young Clayton on a corner. She swallowed hard observing the teacher's hand on his knee. 'Behave girl' She commanded herself and walked slowly ahead. He didn't detach his eyes of the floor.
Kathleen, from her seat, watched Jane's stroll attentively. The detective waggled her hand greeting her as the aunt smiled at her. But Tarzan didn't move until he felt Jane's hand pressing his shoulder. In slow motion he lifted his head nailing his eyes on hers. Jane only smirked embarrassedly. There was too much anxiety into his eyes. Some strange sensation oppressed her heart see him that way. She knew his tendency to worry about the others. That was one of his qualities that had caught her. What she could say to cheer him up. She hated to feel so helpless, so she said the first thing that came into her mind. "Playing the hero again?"
The words sounded as an insult in Maggie's ears "He is a hero!" She raised her voice, "with capitals letters!"
Her attitude surprised to all the people present there. John only smirked shyly. Kathleen flashed her a 'shut-up' look, but Jane opted to ignore the comment. There wasn't the place or time for this kind of reaction. Everybody was nervous, irritable, so the best action was to be quiet. She just bent over placing her hands on John's knees, forcing the teacher's hand to move aside. Into the detective's mind Sam's words sounded and consciously she accepted "You're right Sam. I'm completely territorial about him. Even now I want to punch her." But the only thing she did was hug him. "Everything is gonna be alright" She whispered.
He didn't dare to embrace her, her attitude shocked and pleased him. He just leaned his head on her shoulder murmuring "Thanks..."
Near a window one motionless man was standing watching the scene. He advanced slightly some inches and stopped near the door when a doctor crossed the corridor directly walking toward David's mother. They exchanged some words and then the doctor went back to the operation theater once more. Tears filled the mother's eyes as she spun her head slowly gazing at John. Inside her mind thousands of ideas boiled, quietly she strolled coming closer to wild Clayton.
Kathleen looked suspiciously the man's movements when he picked his cell phone and started whispering something on it.
John jumped like a spring when he saw David's mother approaching to him. The woman stood in from of him for some seconds, finally she asked "Are you the one who took David out of the car? " John nodded. She blinked as her hand furrowed the air slapping his face. "It's your fault! " She shouted furiously "You did this to my son! " Her hand slapped John's face again.
The slap burned on the ape-man's face. He felt Jane's fingers nailed on his arms but he stood there motionless. Tilting his head the wild Clayton watched the eyes of David's mother. "You're hurt but now he is save "He whispered but she didn't listen to any other voice than her own pain."
"You ruined his life. " He heard her but he wasn't sure if she was talking to him or someone else. "I won't stop until you pay what you have done to him."
The man leaned on the door took his jacket's lapel and turned it to the scene which was carrying out. John's aunt walked quietly toward the smiling man. But when she was near him he spun his head grinning and started to run. But he didn't get too far, a pair of strong hands grabbed him hard by his shoulders and made him fall to the floor. John's threatening face was captured by the camera when he was grunting over the horrified reporter.
Some minutes later Tarzan's aggressive image was all over the TV' screen. The same reporter, that wanted to interview him in the clinic, assured loud. "As we see here clearly, that face," he pointed to John's angry expression, "the violent reaction of this man's was the reason why our cameraman had to run away to save his life." Scratching his chin the reporter wondered "Is this man the responsible for David Guilmour's critical medical condition after the car accident? This is a question that we will try to answer during this hour…"
Sitting in front of the TV's screen Richard Clayton grinned. "I love media world. One second ago he was the hero, now he becomes the savage monster again." He pressed his intercom, "Susan please could you talk to Pierre of the New York Today as the usual secret informant and tell him some juicy details about the Michael Foster's murder case."
"That would be my pleasure sir," a feminine voice answered.
He laughed "You are the better secretary that I have been hired Susan. Your idea is splendid and work out marvelously." He grabbed the scotch glass and drank it. Savoring its flavor he ordered "Please call at once to Harvey Masterpiece" His voice changed his tone melodramatically, "regarding what I have seen and heard by TV, the kid's family will need a powerful lawyer." Cynically he added, "of course that Greystoke will pay his bill generously after this insensitive barefoot savage will be where he belongs again."
"Ok sir." Mockingly she asked "Should I prepare the guest's room sir?"
"The guest room?
"Yes sir, the one is adorned with armored glasses…"
He roared with laughter "Susan I love your sense of humor… And put a card thanking John for this new opportunity to have him under my fingers."
Balancing his bare feet, the muscular golden-haired man settled at the edge of the highest part of the mansion's roof. From his position he could glimpse, without been seen, the people's whirling around his teacher. She was spiking joyfully while the cameras photographed her. She just seemed to be very comfortable with her media role and all the attention they showed on her. "How could she stand there enjoying this… this?" he couldn't find the right word. For him it was really annoying, what these odd people only wanted to deform the truth.
His life in this cement jungle turned out to be more and more uncomfortable and disconcerting. It had been an odyssey to leave the health center. Kathleen had made them take a cab that had picked them up into the clinic's garage but they left after the limousine. The big car kept the attention of the media so they could escape from there without an incident.
Jane preferred to stay in the clinic to make some research about the boy's health. Her badge allowed her to investigate and ask some question once the Claytons were gone. Although her decision didn't please him, the wild heir didn't put up any objection. He suspected that something was cooking inside her brain, but Jane's absence was an argument used by the teacher against the detective.
"Is she like this all the time?" Suddenly Maggie spat out. John looked at her without getting the meaning of her words. "Disappearing when you need her most…" She hurried on before he could pronounce a word. "How can she let you alone in this moment? I don't get it."
"She is doing her job."
She shook her hand nervously "Is her job more important than you?"
"No! " He said "I guess… she is doing this for me."
"Ok. Could be." Maggie conceded changing the angle of her lunge. "But you would prefer to have her here with you, right?" The ape-man's facial expression gave her the answer she was looking for. Daintily she leaned her hands on each one of his shoulders. "It's ok. You have the right to feel angry with her."
"I don't feel angry."
She slipped her arms around his neck approaching him "Everybody needs someone at his side in moments like this." She kissed his cheek. "Even if Jane won't be here with you right now," her tone was soft, filthy and suggestive, "you're not alone. You have me…" In slow motion she leaned on so their lips touched slightly. Guiltily he pulled back, feeling his embarrassment she loosened her grip. "I am willing for what you need…" He touched his lips remembering her kiss, her words. It was so obvious she was manipulating him. He should be annoying but… her behavior pleased him. She brought out of him a primitive, animal outlook. She somehow reached the animal inside him but unquestionably it wasn't the same sensation that he felt when Jane was near him.
Maggie was a complicated person. One moment she burst in flatteries and attentions and the next one, been surrounded by journalists, she simply left him at their mercy. He could hardly escape from this awful siege. He sighed watching her inside the reporter's whirlpool. She simply forgot him.
Suddenly the car accident returned to his mind. No matter how much Kathleen had tried to explain David's mother attitude, he didn't understand it. Everything was very confusing. He stirred nervously on his stone seat. "I don't get it" Looking at the people's tumult whirled at the mansion's main entrance. "Why did they change the facts? Why did they lie?"
"The truth doesn't sell newspapers..." The detective's voice broke the dullness of the early evening. Seeing his astonished face she smiled clarifying "It's the wind John. You can't smell me…" He grinned seeing her crawl slowly, carefully and difficultly across the rooftop "You couldn't find a higher and unreachable place, could you?" She ironically remarked climbing. She exhaled noisily sitting down near him. Her eyes grew wide gazing at the long way downward, her back stuck to the wall "Evidently you don't suffer vertigo…"
He watched her astonished and mischievously at the same time. Leaning toward her he assured "You're safe with me…"
Her smile lifted his mood when she said, "That's why I'm here…" Once more she got lost inside his green-aqua eyes and her words blocked between her mind and lips. No matter how hard she tried, they couldn't get out of her mouth. 'Come on girl. Where is your eloquence?' and after a prolong silence she admitted to herself 'Evidently it is hide inside my cowardice. Please Jane say something!' "Is getting cold here…" 'Please tell something brighter girl. You can't act like a brainless teenager.'
"I use to watch the sunset from here, it is beautiful." His fingers slipped on hers and all coherent thought flew away from her brain. Although a crowd of journalists were pestering them from below, her mind got lost holding the hand of a handsome man that refused to use shoes. Both contemplated the setting of the sun. Reasonable explanation didn't exist but happiness filled her heart humming a romantic tone.
"Yes, beautiful." She whispered.
To have her near him was all he need to be happy, but share with her this moment was like reaching haven. "I like to see the different colors of the tinting sky when the sun submerges his face inside the river waters.
She rolled her head hearing him expressing these words and looked at him astonished. In that moment she realized the unique opportunity that he offered to her, to rediscover the city from a new point of view, his own. "Thanks." She was unable to suppress her urge, leaning on she kissed his lips. They got lost into the sensation of the new contact but the noises of the crowd below made them came back from their bliss when the lights fell on them. From the sky a helicopter appeared, Tarzan reacted fast grabbing her hand. The occupants of the flying machine shot its camera's flashes but the couple was gone.
Their priority was to escape from press stalking them so John held her tight sliding down of the rooftop.
"You're a celebrity now…" She teased him entangling her arms around his neck.
"Pierre called me this way…" he said bitterly
"Pierre? Who is Pierre?" She asked "Do you have a new friend?"
"No!" He almost shrieked "He is Maggie friend… she calls him that way."
'Maggie again, Damn' "Her friend…"
"Yes, he hurried to clarify that they are intimate friends…" he thought for a while and then wondered, "Does every intimate friend take pictures of you?"
When their feet touched the balcony's floor she stepped away from him. The helicopter flew around the mansion trying to capture an elusive couple's image, but they had entered to the atrium.
Something wrong was inside John's story so Jane asked him concerned "Did he take pictures?
John nodded explaning, "of me… of her and the car accident…"
Suddenly Jane's brain attached the facts. "He is paparazzi!
John face frowned "Papar… what?
"He took pictures of you and published them in the newspaper." The detective got angrier "It would not surprised me if he were the one took you the pictures near the precinct." Shaking her hand angrily, "How can she let him take pictures of you!
"She was angry with him too," he defended his teacher, "She didn't know what he was doing. I can tell…"
The detective grumblingly conceded "Yeah, you can smell lies."
"You don't like her." It was a statement. It was pretty obvious that the detective couldn't stand his teacher.
Jane fought her urge to scream at him, 'this bitch want you in her bed, of course I don't like her' but she didn't said anything. Crossing the atrium she reached the stairs. "We should talk to Kathleen about this.
The aunt was reading the last edition of New York Today when the couple entered in her office. She hesitated for a second then folded the newspaper and put it aside. Although the central news was the car accident, some distorted information about the detective Foster's murder case had reappeared and one picture in particular revealed something she had to ask her nephew before taking a stand. These kinds of newspaper used to invent all kind of gossip with the only purpose to sell more. But at this moment she wanted the information that the detective has managed to get.
"I had had a long conversation with my lawyers." Kathleen began to talk while both took seat in front of her. "Although John had touched David's wounded body, they are building a defense strategy if the mother will fulfill her threat." Then she asked Jane tell them what she had discovered.
Jane hesitated some seconds, she wanted to talk about the yellow paper topic but she understood the aunt's concern. "First I began to wonder why the kid smashed his car against the tree. Was it a mechanical car's defect or had something happened to him? When I realized that David's father didn't appear I began to elaborate a hypothesis… but I couldn't to get verifications until you left.
"What have you found out? " Kathleen hurried her.
"The kid was drugged when he had the accident… It seems he is a junkie."
"Junkie?" John inquired, "What is a junkie?"
The detective tried to explain it as easy she could, she remarked especially the effects of the hallucinogenic drug on the kid's body that could be the cause of the accident.
John listened carefully to her words. "So that was the reason why his scent was so strange and his heart beat without rhythm."
"Without rhythm?" The aunt inquired
"Arrhythmia." Jane interpreted, "His heart didn't work correctly, is what you want to say John?"
"First it beat fast, then it slowed until it stopped." He stated.
Both said to the unison "Did his heart stop to beat?"
He nodded. "That's why I took him out of the car. The girl cried asking me… don't let him die. I have to take him out…"
"Why don't you tell it before?" The detective shrieked.
He shrugged "No one asked me…"
She wondered 'What I should I do? Kiss him or kick him?' "With a simple test we could know if he suffered a heart attack. That could explain John's actions."
"But we still have the perforation lung problem." Kathleen stated.
"Yeah it could be John's fault…" Jane muttered concerned.
John reacted strongly to her statement protesting upset "I didn't hurt him… I saved him."
Jane warmly sighed "I know, you wanted to help him, but you are very strong. When you pressed the kid's chest… one of the broken ribs could have crossed his lung hurting him."
"I don't hurt people." Stubbornly he kept saying, "He needed help and I helped him."
"John…" the detective didn't find the correct words to explain it. "You can harm somebody even when you want to help him… That's why the rules exist."
Hearing her he exploded "Rules! Does some rule exist that doesn't let me touch a wounded person?"
Jane lose her composure too "In fact yes, it exists. You shouldn't touch an injured person in a car accident. You can hurt him… as you did."
"Ok people calm down…" Kathleen tried to smooth the situation, "We are all too exited and nervous. Too many things have happened…"
"Maggie didn't complain, Pierre didn't complain. Why you complain?" John took the newspaper and opened in the page where the car's accident pictures showed the scene. "They call me hero here…"
The detective didn't answer. Her gaze was fastening at the central picture of this page, with full color it showed the teacher hugging and kissing passionately at her barefoot-blond pupil.
Any sign of rational consideration ended in the bottom of the trash. Her eyes could only gaze at the pictures where Tarzan's lip touched sensually the teacher's mouth. A wave of fury whipped her mind.
How could he do this to her? 'No…calm down' she told herself even she reached to unpleasant conclusions about the incident that was clearly pictured in the photo, 'first listen to what he has to say. It has to be a logical explanation for this picture… although he…, he seemed to enjoy it.' With capitals letter the epigraph presupposed a burning romance between Maggie Knightly, the successful publicist's daughter, and the eccentric heir of the Greystoke companies.
Unaware of what was cooking inside the detective's head Tarzan smiled proud. "She considers me a hero… I saved David's life."
Her voice sounded stressed and tense. "What a surprise!" Jane's eyes sparked furiously.
He tilted his head. Why she was so angry? "She recognized what I did and it is her way to show me how proud she is of me." His aunt kicked him under the table, he jumped aggressively. "Don't touch me."
Jane tossed the newspaper on the desk. "Please don't forget to send me the invitation of the wedding."
"Please Jane you're overreacting." The aunt dared to say but the fuming detective's gaze made her shut up her mouth quickly. 'Why I didn't keep the newspaper on the drawer of my desk?'
Tarzan looked astonished at her. "What wedding?"
Jane rose abruptly of her seat. "Thank you for your hospitality Kathleen." John tried to grab her arm but she muttered threatening, "Don't you dare!" She spun her head to Kathleen saying, "I know the exit, thank you once again. Good bye." And she left the office leaving a stunned Tarzan who had no idea what was going on.
"Did I make something wrong?" He honestly asked. "Why was she so angry? Maggie kissed me in the cheek…" but he blushed remembering the car's incident.
"In the cheek?" Kathleen smirked "John, could you look at the picture in the news paper. It says that you had a romantic relationship with Maggie." She adapted her speech so he could understand easily what she was explaining, "It said Maggie is your mate."
"No! That's a lie!" He screamed running out. At the main door he yelled when the detective turned on her car engine. "Jane the paper lies…" Pushing anybody out of his way he ran after the car repeating it over and over again, "Maggie is not my mate! I didn't kiss her on the mouth!" The flashes twinkled behind him.
Enraged he spun toward the reporters. Everybody stepped back seeing his facial expression.
"Why are you doing this to me?" He shook his arms aiming at each one of them. "The only thing that you know is to tell lies! Leave me alone!" He crooked his head looking at the empty street. "It's all your fault…"
An idea grew inside the ape-man's mind. There was only one person that could fix all this mess saying the truth. Obviously Pierre had falsified somehow this pictures, he could tell Jane the truth. Tarzan knew his scent, he could hunt for him. It wouldn't difficult to find him.
The empty glass held by Pierre's hand was refilled once again with the fermented and distilled yellow liquid and two ice cubes happily were plunged in. The photographer was worried, probably Kathleen Clayton had already learned about his relationship with her nephew's teacher. He puffed annoyed; he could consider this source of information dead.
The glass touched his lips and tossed the liquid down his throat. A scotch was the best helping hand he could find to figure out a new way to obtain benefit of this situation. Like a thirsty vampire, he refused to let his victim, his gold's mine, go.
He was so upset that he didn't notice he wasn't alone any longer, spinning abruptly he collided against a muscular broad chest. "Son of …" The troglodyte was there. It didn't seem to be his lucky day.
"You should say the truth!" Clayton shouted taking him by the neck. "The picture lies!"
"Do you only know how to hang me?" Pierre spat regretting his impulse immediately. The troglodyte bloodshot eyes screamed the fury that he contained inside. The empty glass dropped while both of Pierre's hands attempted, in vain, to loosen John's grasp. Why didn't this guy behave as a civilized human being? Instead of chocking him, he should be speaking with his lawyer to demand him. That was the photographer's very well-known game. But no! This wealthy human-simian didn't follow the rules of the society. 'Damn you Clayton.'
"You made the picture lie!" Tarzan repeated, "The newspaper lies, the picture lies. You should tell Jane the truth!
The paparazzi suddenly got the situation. "You have a chick's problem!"
Tarzan cocked his head and frustratingly he affirmed. "My problem is with Jane not with a chicken…" shaking him hard, "You made that picture lie. It's your fault. I didn't kiss Maggie that way. You have to tell the truth."
"She is jealous!" he grinned exasperating even more to the ape-man. "That is good. Don't you realize it?"
"No! She is angry with me. That is not good." Tarzan said squeezing his neck.
"Just the opposite, man! The more furious she becomes the better for you!" This reply shocked Tarzan. He loosened his grip and stepped back. "You don't know anything about women, don't you?" John couldn't do another thing but to agree with that statement and Pierre roared with laughter. "She wants you, wants you only for herself. God! Women always want to monopolize you! I hate it! Why can't we share our body with who we want?"
"She won't share me!"
"Oh! yeah. No other female in your life but her. It isn't fair… you have the right to fuck every pretty girl you want man! You're a powerful magnet to the chicks. And this bitch, Jane wants you only for herself." An exasperating thought crossed his mind. "Haven't you screwed her yet?" Pierre saw the ape-man's facial expression, he didn't understand what he was saying. So the French made the correct gestures with his fingers to show him what he meant. Tarzan shook his head. "Man and you lost an incredible opportunity! Shame on you…" Caressing his aching neck an exciting idea hit his brain when he kicked the broken glass on the floor. "I need a drink." He assured heading toward the bar. Filling his glass he began to improvise a new stratagem. "Let me get you an orange juice." He knew what the troglodyte drank, it was information provided by Maggie. "So we can have a chat man to man. You desperately need it."
Tarzan hesitated just few seconds and then agreed. Even this was an untruthful man he wouldn't lose anything speaking with him. He really needed a man's advice to this matter.
The huge juice glass was placed on the table as Pierre picked up his scotch. During, approximately, uninterrupted ten minutes the photographer explained the basic rules of dating between men and women. What was correct and incorrect to do in such case, what a woman expected.
Drinking his juice John paid attention to each example Pierre exposed. The flavor of the juice was a little stronger than the usual, but it was tasty. He sniffed it several times before drinking it. But the dizziness set in five minutes after Verdammt finished his speech.
His eyes began to see fuzzily and suddenly he couldn't repress his laugh. It was an odd perception. It seemed as if his feet didn't touch the floor, as he walked on mattresses that continually moved. He abruptly fell down as he tried to get up from his seat. But instead of getting scared he began to laugh. "What had you done to me?"
"I gave you something to relax and enjoy…" Pierre picked the phone when the door-bell rung. Pierre looked at his clock and cursed using a language that Tarzan hardly understood. When the French man opened the door Maggie appeared. John rose on his trembling feet welcoming his astonished teacher. "He is flying." Pierre explain, "I need him happy and relaxing." Grinning he added, "I was dialing some girls, the boy has to lose his virginity once for all," he added with a cynical and pejorative tone, "and I plan to record the entire process. I'll be rich babe."
Maggie blinked without being able to believe what she was hearing. "Pierre that is disgusting, even for you!"
The words reverberated on the ape-man's body but his brain couldn't decode them precisely. As the couple argued more heatedly he started to realize what it was the discussion about. Of course that he interpreted them according to his desires. Pierre was right, he want to lose his virginity for once and all. But the person he needed was far away from there.
With difficultly he got up and walked at the window. Only one thought existed into his head. He leaned his hand on the windowsill and jumped ahead. The fissures on the wall that had helped him to climb vanished from his touch. Inflexible, the gravity law pulled him down…
Jane peeked at the clock for twentieth time in one single minute. The damn minute hand seemed to go backward. She puffed annoyingly the hair off her face kicking out the blanket. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes the same image came back to mock her. Ok it wasn't the same picture… it changed slightly, they were more entangled and wore fewer clothes.
Her own demons were corroding her and she couldn't do anything about it. Even Nikki wasn't at home. Why hadn't she chosen another day to sleep in some friend's house? Oh! She needed her young sister, she needed to relieve the bitter rage crowded inside her heart. God it was killing her. Furiously Jane squashed a daring tear that escaped through the small tail of her eye. 'I won't waste any more tear because of this stupid libidinous wild man…' she commanded herself when one tear slipped down through her cheeks followed by another, and other… soon she was crying bitterly hugging her pillow hard.
The night breeze forced the curtains to perpetuate a melancholic dance. Why she had left open the blinds? Sitting up on the bed she yelled, "It's useless. Evidently he is with her." The darkness, her jealousies and her own insecurity conspired into her mind making the most intricate stories where infidelity was the main character and it ended always at the same way: John and Maggie always together naked on a bed.
The detective felt the imperious necessity of caffeine into her system. Maybe a coffee could calm down her anxiety.
Her bare feet headed to the kitchen. Mechanically she rinsed her face and with the dexterity of the habit, with no light, Jane began with the ritual of making her black beverage. From time to time she shivered but it wasn't because of the cold. Observing as the dark drop fell to the bottom of the crystalline container the auburn woman fought to stop thinking but her mind refused to abandon the topic.
Suddenly the silence of the night was broken by a thud coming from her bedroom. Unwittingly a smile set up on her face while her heart began a drum solo. Damn she couldn't act like a silly teenager. Angrily she slapped her hand. 'You should not show any anxiety or concern to him…' She rehearsed her I-don't-care face while she walked quickly returning to her room.
Leaning on the windowsill the figure of the ape-man rose, but it didn't exhibit his usual majestic appearance. She stopped at the door frame. Something bad was going on. The index finger of her right hand lit the light. She wasn't prepared to what she saw. Her frighten eyes grew wide contemplating as John took a step ahead and collapsed. Any reproach vanished of the detective's mind while she ran to aid him.
He attempted to stand up but his uncoordinated muscles were not able to make it. His body was too numb as to feel pain. His arms, legs, torso and face seemed to be part of a surrealist painting with different ranges of purple on it. His shredded shirt had no buttons, it didn't hide his chest covered with scratches and bruises. His fingers and toes exhibited features of blood skirting the nails. The man was a monumental calamity but couldn't stop laughing.
Jane's police training started to work in her mind, her fingertips pressed gently on his lower eyelids. The sclerotic was tinted red, but what scared her most was his unfocused expression, his dilated pupils. It also cost him to breathe. She pressed her fingertip on the jowl searching for his pulse. It seemed the trot of a bolting horse, extremely irregular. She made a quick face examination finding some vomit aftertastes around the corner of his lips. It was a good sign, his body tried to get out of his system what poisoned him.
She would have time to kill the person that had made him that, but now her priority was him. She slipped her arm under his armpit and helped him to stand and lean back on the bed.
Without putting any resistance his body slumped onto the mattress.
Chapter 15 (R)
The auburn woman chose carefully the words for the message she left on Kathleen's answering machine. With a few words she let her know that her nephew was in her apartment keeping to herself which condition he was in. As she hung the phone Jane gazed at the sleeping man on her bed. Wow, he had really scared her to death. She remembered her desperation when she called her neighbor, a young doctor friend of Nikki. After having reviewed his battered body the physician assured her that John hadn't any broken bones. He agreed with her about John's intoxicated state. Evidently he had fallen and smashed hard to the ground because the action of a euphonizing drug. It wasn't a huge dose, thanks heavens. It had hit him hard just because his body was not used to this type of substances, but it was a good sign that he vomited taking it out off his organism. When her neighbor left she decided to call his aunt letting her know where he was.
The detective walked over to the dresser opening the bottom drawer. Quickly she located a pair of pants that she had bought him last week. It had become evident to her that John would keep appearing surprisingly on her windowsill and it was just a matter of time when he would need some cloth. She had guessed right.
She placed the clothes on a chair near him and headed to the bathroom looking for a first aid kit. Sitting beside John and with a humidified tissue she removed the dry blood and dirt spots off his mouth. As she circled his lips a moan escaped from him. A mischievous smile played on her face.
Now it was the shirt's turn to be removed, she needed to clean his wounded chest. After several failed attempt the better option was to cut it into pieces to take it away easily. Using a scissor she took it off. The sight literally made her heart ache. Contemplating the old and new wounds on his torso she wondered how some trace of humanity could have survived in him. Tears gathered in her eyes as a knot formed in her throat. It wasn't pity, it was anger. Anger against his uncle, against Maggie, against the fate that made him goes through all kind of torments.
Delicately and carefully Jane cleaned each scratch and bruise on his brawny torso. Then she followed with his fingers and toes.
He was calmly sleeping. Giving to the temptation her hand glided above the dark slashes and bruises that dirtied his skin. His breathing changed its rhythm lightly as she leaned in and kissed his lips smoothly. Unexpectedly Tarzan's hands slipped around Jane's waist, pulling her closer, deepening their kiss. Commanded by pure instinct his hands traveled across her back looking for a spot where he could deceive her clothes barrier as her tongue massaged every inch of his mouth. Her arms enfolded his tan neck entangling her fingers into his golden hair pressing herself tightly to him.
She had fantasized about this scene over and over again during her lonely nights, but to feel his hand on her skin was much more pleasant than a dream. A gasp emerged playfully from her mouth when he buried his nose into her mane inhaling her perfume. His chin flew down as he followed the scents indications. Clumsily his finger tried to unbutton her nightwear but patience was not Tarzan's strong side, with a simple tug her night shirt didn't bother him anymore.
His action brought her back to the reality. What the hell she was doing? What was it? What she supposed have to do now? Push him away? Bring him closer?
She didn't resist as he took control forcing her to lean her back on the mattress. She just closed her eyes enjoying his exploring hands on her geography feeling the heat of him through the pants. His touch wasn't gentle or naïve. It was wild and demanding, driven by this wild impulse which had arisen each time he had smelled her scent. Bending her legs she let him slid the pants and underwear off her as her hand worked on his jeans unbuttoning it.
Quickly his hands were on her again running over her naked hips, down, inside her tights. Opening her eyes she met his gaze fixed on her. She instantly blushed ignoring what her expression must have been in that instant, because she didn't know this wild woman that she had suddenly become wrapping her legs around his waist. John smiled and kissed her passionately placing his large hands on her firm bottom. Following an old instinct he picked her up, rose to his knees pulling her to him, and with a powerful single stroke he buried himself deep within her. Then he started moving back and forth. With each thrust his innocence gave way to the knowledge of the lust's pleasure fulfilled. As he moved inside her setting a rhythm she answered it moving together. It was pure ecstasy for both, each muttering moans of pleasure intoning each other's name. The outside world disappeared. There was nothing but Tarzan and Jane, their love and the bond growing between them.
Between groans and moans they reached to their ecstasies as their passion overtook them and brought them to their crescendo until they collapsed together on the mattress breathing hard.
She watched the tears invading his eyes as he experienced for the first time the sensation of making love in his life. Suddenly she realized that was the most beautiful moment in her entire life, giving him that experience. "I love you." She really didn't know how she uttered those words but seeing his radiant face she knew that it was right. His emotions kept his voice captive but all he wanted to say was transmitted through his passionate kisses.
Slowly the ape-man's eyelids drew up discovering the darkness surrounding him. The last conscious event he could remember was the floor quickly approaching him. His heart started to pound fast. Had he died and reached to heaven? All around him it was calm, dark and Jane's scent was everywhere. Fascinated he inhaled her exciting and intoxicating aroma.
He was sure that Pierre had put something into his juice. Had it caused this kind of hallucinations? If it so, Tarzan refused to wake up from it.
Oh! It was the best dream he had ever had, even if it had started like a horrible bad dream.
John wasn't sure if it really had happened or it was a trick of his imagination. He hardly remembered running and jumping through those endless empty spaces between the rooftops. Scaling the wall of Jane's building certainly seemed to be an unending scary nightmare. He had had a fuzzy memory of having entered through the window but then everything went black again.
Suddenly her face appeared in front of him and he could swear she was kissing him. A boyish grin played on his lips. Oh! That was when his dream had turned exiting and completely erotic. Just recalling the images, her touch, her smell made him getting aroused again.
But, was it just another dream? One of the hundred he used to have. But this last one seemed be so real.
In that moment he felt a slander leg touching him. Pierre's word came into his mind: 'I need him happy and relaxing. I was dialing some girls… the boy has to lose his virginity once for all.'
Oh! What had he done? If Jane got fuming just because a picture… Closing his eyes he whispered a prayer.
She moved closer slipping her hand over his waist.
Smoothly he spun to see the sleepy person lying near him. His eyes opened wide fearfully observing the auburn mane spread over the pillow. Mixed feelings battled inside his chest. Could it be he wasn't dreaming at all? Or he was dreaming right now?
She curled up hugging him as her head rested on his chest. It couldn't be true! Could it?
Carefully and cautiously he glided his arms around her nakedness embracing her as he felt her hot breath on his skin. She moaned feeling his touch pulling her closer.
Oh! He really was dead and in heaven.
"Thanks Sam. We will go right now. See you later." Jane said hanging her cell-phone. She turned to see the happiest man on the world sitting beside her with an infectious grin dancing on his face. She smiled back and blushed remembering the night's events. Maybe he wasn't totally conscious on their first time, but he was on their second and their third.
After a long and honest conversation they exposed all their feelings, their fears and concerns. Without any interruption John had related what happened at French photographer's apartment. Indignant she had called Sam explaining what had taken place at Pierre's house. Both worked on a plan to catch that bastard and make him pay for that.
"Ok mister. It's time to get out the bed and start the day." She said taking his hand among hers, "we should go to the hospital. We need a doctor to check your health and take a blood sample. So we will be able to proof what Pierre did to you." John's facial expression reflected clearly that he didn't like the idea. She hugged him whispering, "This way we can stop him from stalking you." Blowing into his ear she added. "And if you behave… I can reward you…" and with a playfully tone, "and I assure you that you will enjoy it…"
Sliding his hand on her back he pulled her closer grinning, "why after…?" but he couldn't talk anymore, his lips were busy as she aggressively kissed him.
Of course they took their time to get out the bed…
After a brief stop in the hospital, where the ape-man didn't put objections to be examined and gave a sample of his blood, the couple went to the mansion near Central Park. When Marie opened the door she forced herself to contain her scream. "Mister John!" she said as her hands didn't dare to touch the Kathleen nephew's beaten face.
"I'm fine Marie." He hugged her. She really was upset and worried.
"We just come from the hospital." Jane clarified, "he is fine. It looks worse than it is."
Tarzan perceived Maggie's scent. "My teacher is here…" he warned.
"Your ex-teacher…"Jane stepped ahead squeezing her fists. John grinned when Marie said that the teacher was on his aunt office. Jane flashed him an angry look. Ok. She couldn't be there when Sam would handcuff the annoying French photographer because her presence could bring a useful excuse that could manipulate any good lawyer to free him. But the teacher… "Could you excuse us Marie, I had to talk to Kathleen." The detective said while she walked to John's aunt office. When they arrived at the door she spun asking him, "Honey…" she leaned in kissing him, "would it bother you if I spoke with Kathleen and Maggie alone?"
He cocked his head perceiving his mate's hidden intention. His curiosity was too strong, what could she do? There was only one way to find out, so he nodded going up the stairs. But when she entered he jumped through a window descending to Kathleen window's office.
The detective knocked smoothly at the door and hearing Kathleen's permission entered. Maggie slightly jumped seeing her approaching without muttering a word.
The aunt grinned pleasantly, evidently John had been able to speak with her clarifying the misunderstanding even she didn't get it why Jane had called in the middle of the night. It was not surprising that he spent the night at the detective's apartment. Both were grown up people. "Are you and John staying for lunch?"
Jane looked at the aunt astonished, but quickly she understood. Kathleen didn't know anything about what happened to John. She spun her head gazing at his ex-teacher and Maggie stepped back.
The detective's whole rage concentrated into her right fist as it came out smashing the Maggie's jaw. "This one is for letting him drug John" followed by another one, "this is for not helping him," the third blow made the teacher drop into the armchair. "And this last one is a warning about what will happen if you came near him again!"
From the outside windows John grinningly observed how she clasped her fist once again. No wonder he fell for her, the wild person living inside her fascinated him.
Kathleen stepped back watching Jane's odd reaction. She was lost. "Why did you do that?" But Jane had not time to answer when the barefoot blond entered through the window's office. Kathleen's eyes grew wide. "Oh John! What happen to you?"
The detective's furious voice exploded. "This lady's boyfriend drugged John, who fell from the apartment's windows, remained unconscious on the floor several minutes and none of them helped him…"
Now it was Kathleen who turned to the ex-teacher irately. "Oh! You forget to tell me that part of your story… Miss Knightly you're fired. It would be better if you leave right now and never come again." Hurriedly Maggie got up and ran away from there. When she was crossing the main door she heard Kathleen's voice. "Of course my lawyers will contact you… and it won't be pleasant. I can tell…"
The ape-man glided is arm around his lady-love's waist. Both were on the Mansion's roof contemplating at the evening fell. She leaned her head on his wide shoulder. No word was needed.
They had traveled a long and winding road, went through many dangerous situations and had vanquished them just being together.
The sun hid behind the horizon but it would come back tomorrow illuminating the uncertain path before them.
The end (fin)