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)

I'm not english speaker so I'm apologize for any typo or syntax mistake you could find.

Cold blood

"No!" John yelled desperately. "Come back!" He demanded angrily getting up trying to reach her but the handcuff didn't let him move. He was chained to the wall. She spun her head and, with tears in her eyes, she closed the door. Furiously he roared kicking the desk. "You can't leave me this way!" The wooden furniture cracked under his knee's blow but nobody came. He was alone with his rage. Slowly he sat down. "I can't believe what you just said Jane," He snarled once more slamming the desk, "you love me… you love me…" Then he collapsed, "It is not the end… it can't end this way…" But even he tried to lie himself, the truth was there. He swallowed his tears but the pain was like a knife crossing his heart. All he wanted was to be with her, but she… Why didn't she? "Why did you betray me?" There was no answer.

From the other side of the mirror two brown aching eyes watched him. "It's my fault," She murmured as Sam leaned his hand on her shoulder fatherly, "I should know it." Detective Porter made a useless effort trying not to cry. "Now a second person is dead, and it's because of me… again."

"Michael's death was an accident Jane" Her partner tried to find words of wisdom to eased her pain. "But this time the evidences against him are overwhelming." The black detective looked at John Clayton Jr, a.k.a. Tarzan. The long haired blond barefoot man had helped them to solve the most intricate cases. How could a hero turned to be a murder? 'The jealousies are bad consultants' he thought.

Inside the shielded room John Clayton Jr, whom one day was brought forcibly by his uncle to this city, asked with painful voice. "Why didn't you leave me alone in the jungle Richard? Why did you bring me here? I hate you!" His desperate cry smashed against the walls, "I hate you!" Heavily he let fall his head. His mind wandered through the passageways of the memory returning to the previous day, when the hope still existed. Until he knew that someone else was in Jane's life.

How could it be? How it was possible? She belonged with him… only with him. There was no other man could ever loved her like him. No man but him could be in her life… why didn't she understand it?

The image of the day before paraded in front of his memory.

"John there is something important I have to tell you" Her words sounded into his mind once again. "There is some one new in my life… I really don't know how it happened, I took all the precautions but it happened anyway. And I want to be honest with you…"

Someone new in her life… he didn't let her finished to talk. He couldn't listen anymore. Jane was his, only his.

…. The day before ….

The tall light brown haired man walked through the mansion's front door. It was the second time in this week that Kathleen Clayton called him urgently for her nephew. He frowned asking, "What happened this time?" It wasn't his pleasure to come at midnight.

"Sorry doctor Wilcox!" she said really worried, "He is furious. I really don't know what to do."

"You know that I can't assist him anymore." He stated. "It is not professional. I'm involved personally in this problem so I really can't help him Ms. Clayton"

"But he is completely lost. He and Jane had a fight this evening," she said confirming his suspicions. "I really don't know why, he won't talk about it." She swallowed hard as they climbing the stair. He is really upset but he asked for you. Maybe you would able to talk to him"

"Ok Ms. Clayton, don't worry." He stepped ahead entering into the atrium, "Maybe I should talk to him alone."

She nodded letting him doing his job. He had been John's psychiatrist by almost six months.

John Clayton Jr. was a peculiar and fascinating case. A kid lost in the jungle during twenty years and brought forcibly for his uncle. It was logical that John felt himself lost in this city and hopelessly looked for column to hold and apparently he had found it in the authoritarian figure of a New York policewoman, Detective Jane Porter. He couldn't hold a heavy sigh. 'Ask for your help was my first mistake…'

The atrium was upside down. "Have you been practicing break-the-damn-chair-against-the-wall again John?" No sound came. Dr. Wilcox walked to the center of the enclosure. "I know you're here John." He placed his briefcase on the stone bench. "We played this game before John. And it end the same way always, so, why don't you came here." He took a syringe, a needle and a flask and started to assemble the device.

"My name is Tarzan" A husky voice sounded above him.

"Tarzan, the ape-man. But I like to call you for your Christian name." Both man stared each other gaze. Then the doctor smirked. "You freak out your aunt with your little demonstration of power." Looking around he added, "And I don't blame her, you really demolished the place pal." Tarzan fell silently on the ground behind his back. "What happened? Why are you so angry?"

"There is man that wants to take Jane away from me… she admitted that she have feeling for him" Tarzan said watching carefully the doctor reaction.

"Did she tell you his name?"

"No" The ape-man came closer but Wilcox kept serene, unperturbed. "But I have my suspicions…"

"Ok. But first I have to administrate you this sedative." The doctor showed him the needle. "Then we can talk." Tarzan stretched his bare arm. Wilcox's hand grabbed it and injected the medication. He was too near so the ape-man's nose could perceive his fear as the liquid was introduced inside his artery. "I'm glad that you lost your fear to the needles" Wilcox whispered.

John smiled, his eyes sparked with cynicism. "I still hate them." He approached his nose to the doctor's sleeve. "But I needed to confirm my suspicions." His feature darkened as he stated. "You had been with her recently." Gazing at him he asked, "Are you the other man?"

The doctor didn't answer. "You will feel sleepy in a few seconds John."

John's lids began to weigh too much. "I want to know…Larry." Tarzan muttered as Wilcox held him and helped him to lean back on the stone bench.

"You know, I never lied to you and I don't start now." He sighed heavily watching the ape-man recumbent on the rock's furniture. "You're right. I was with her this evening. But she rejected me. I really didn't know she felt the same… I had to thank you for that information pal."

John stirred frustratingly on his stone bed. His arm seemed to weigh a ton. Doctor Wilcox stood near him waiting to the drug made effect on his organism. After five minutes John's body relaxed as his breathing became normal again. The physician checked his pupils. His patience was alright. Now he could start with their chat even it would be difficult for John to move his lips still.

'It wouldn't be easy' the doctor told to himself and start to talk. "I know you can hear me. The sedative I gave you will relax your muscles. In one hour you will move normally again." Wilcox started to pace nervously. "What I have to say… it won't please you, I know." It took him some second to find the correct word to explain the situation. "It was hard for me to recognize my absolute lack of control of this situation. It is my fault. I should know it was a mistake to involve her in this problem. Honestly I believed that it could help you if both of us worked together. I never expected… I never imagine…" It was hard even to mumble these words in front of him, "I never expected to feel such attraction… but it happened. I would… I should have foreseen what would happen, but…" heavily he sighed, "I couldn't control my heart and I fell in love with her."

"But she was with me…" Tarzan muttered.

Wilcox frowned. "I know… That's why I stepped back John…" The doctor found hard kept walking so he stopped facing John's judging eyes. "You know that I'm not lying. I had to talk to her. I had to be honest with her explaining the real reason why I couldn't be your psychoanalyst any longer." He smirked, "she explained me what she felt and I accepted her rejection… but John. If you are right and she lied to me because she felt tied to you… I wouldn't give up on her. And I will try to win her." He felt the anger growing inside his peculiar patience. "Now I have to go." Tarzan watched him to pick the briefcase up. "I'm really sorry but it would be unforgivable to let escape my chance to be happy." The doctor said walking to the exit. "Good-bye John. I hope the best man will win her heart."

Tarzan puffed irritatingly. "You're wrong Larry," He screamed, "I wouldn't let you win her… she is my mate, my woman."


Her brown eyes watched him stroll. He was like a caged animal passing back and forth. It was too painful see him that way, but it was unbearably agonizing looking at his empty side of the bed.

She couldn't sleep and after hundred of turns she got up and decided to talk to him again. Was she a fool to expect that the evidence will be wrong? Why she was looking for a tiny light of hope still? It was silly and completely foolish but she was here expecting a miracle.

The cell door opened slowly letting her enter to the padded room. She heard the guard's warning but she didn't listen to his words. All her attention was on the barefoot man standing in front of her.

"Why are you here?" he asked with frozen tone as the guard closed the door let them be alone.

"I need to know the truth John…" She made an effort not to loose her voice, "Why did you kill him?"

He turned to see her face, "You know why… you betray me falling for this man." He stepped ahead and she stepped back, "You 'are' my woman, my mate and no man other than me could touch your body." The wall stopped her pace. "You are mine, only mine." Her brain went blank feeling his breath as he sniffed her. Cocking his head he asked again, "Why are you here?" She didn't answer. She refused to think why she was there yearning his hand on her body. He grinned. He didn't need her voice to understand what she need, what she was looking him for. He caught her body against the wall pressing his on her.

"John stop…" it was a feeble whisper…

"You came here for this…" his hands on her hips slipped down, "you are mine, only mine" He repeated stroking her intimate feminine place.

Their breathing became hard and heavy as his fingers began to unzip her pants. As one hand went down, the other started to travel up a long her body. All rational thought ran away from her brain, she was lost under his touch. She only could enfold her arms around his neck and surrender to their passion.

Cupping her breast he claimed her lips. He wasn't on control either necking her desperately. Slowly his hand left her breast and went up. "You are mine, only mine…" He stated as his hand surrounded her neck, unhurriedly he began to press, "If I can't have you, no one will have…" He added as his fingers compressed her windpipe, "no one will touch you again…"

She opened her mouth trying to breathe sitting up abruptly in the bed. Touching her neck she repeated over and over again, "it was a nightmare… only a nightmare." But it seemed to be so real. Sighing she leaned her back on the bed's endorse.

Why she dreamt such ugly thing? Was she afraid of him? And if she really was, how could she face him again? She caressed her belly tenderly. She needed to consider all the different tips of this problem.

It was disconcerting. Lying and hiding it caused Michael's death. It was a fault she would never repeat. And now when she tried to be open with John, it seemed she was the responsible of Larry's death. Again they were involved in a murder case. Once again someone is dead because of her. But even she hopelessly wished that he were innocent, the evidences incriminated him. The broken windows with his blood on some glasses fragments, his fingertips on the homicidal knife.

"Why did you do this John?" she sobbed, "Why didn't you trust me?"

She didn't know if she could face alone what will came. The day before yesterday should have been a cheerful day but it became a nightmare. Oh! How she wanted to wake up and find out that it was just a silly dream…

But it wasn't a dream.

Her tears began to fall.

She hugged her pillow hoping her cry washed her anguish and bitterness, but crying all night long couldn't be enough to wash all her concern, pain and desperations.


The barefoot blond man was sitting still in the iron chair, a length of thick chain came from his ankle and embedded into the wall. Four strongly armed men watched over the cell door. The attorney got up annoyingly. The lawyer's firm put him in this predicament. The Clayton's kid wasn't an easy task. He had been asking the same question for fifteen minutes and the reply was always the same, silence. How could he do what they demand if his defend didn't want to cooperate, didn't want to talk, didn't want to look at him? The frustrated lawyer touched his shoulder obtaining a threatening grunt. He pulled back his hand quickly. "Mr. Clayton" He said losing his composure, "I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened." Sighing he asked again, "¿Why do you went to Dr. Wilcox's office?"

John's legs stretched as his mind started to remember the events of that unpleasant night. These were confusing memories but he was sure of one thing, he was furious.

…… Flash back ……

His eyes difficulty opened up and the blurred surrounding started to clear. Tarzan found himself reclined on the stone bench inside the Atrium. From a distantchurch's steeple came three strokes of a bell.

He felt dizzy and his head ached. His brain was a chaos but he could move his arms and legs. Perhaps what the doctor gave him began to lose effect. Slowly he got up and wobblingly walked toward the balcony. His hands rested on the rail. The night's fresh air hit his face clearing the torpidity from his blunted mind.

The last doctor's words resounded into his mind. 'I will try to win her…' A cold chill traveled across his spine. Although he didn't know how, he had to stop this man. He scanned the area searching Wilcox's scent, sniffing he began to follow the odorous print.

To descend the wall wasn't an easy task being lightheaded. He slipped several times until he fell abruptly to the asphalt reaching the street. Strange noises hindered his senses. Roars, screams and cries perforated his hearings. Odd voices sounded into his mind. He needed to make an effort to separate the real sounds of those his mind made-up. Shaking his head he attempted to thrown them form his brain.

His bare feet, following the doctor's scent, walked along the streets until he arrived, finally, to the well-known building where Wilcox had his consulting-room. The curtains were closed, but someone was inside. He could perceive two silhouettes through the cloth. They were entangled.

Tarzan felt a throbbing jab on his right arm, waves of muscular spasms traveled under his skin. His body writhed with the pain so he had to sit down on the sidewalk. His body was numb still and the voices into his head didn't disappear. What was happening to him? Why he couldn't control his beating hart and this odd sensation growing inside him?

Tarzan hugged his knees and started to move back and forth. He raised his head trying to focus his bloodshot eyes on the windows. The light was gone. Staring at the window he got up slowly. His breathing became agitated as he stepped ahead touching the wall. Under his fingertips the stone commanded him, 'go up.' Difficultly he started to climb.

After ten endless minutes he reached at the windowsill. There was not doubt into his mind anymore. With a single strong kick he broke the windows glass. As his hand touched the window frame the broken glass was buried deeply into his flesh. A red line of blood furrowed down the wall…