The Soulmate Collection

7 || Crossfire

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Warning there is a lot of strong language in this story.

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"You hold my heart in your hands. Please, don't clap."

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"Not again", I groan to myself, upon waking up. My hands are bond to the arms of an old blue wire chair. I can feel a cut on my face and my nose is, of course, broken. Why can't these guys ever go for something else? One of these days my nose is going to get me mistaken for a Wilson brother. I look around me and see that I'm in yet, another abandoned warehouse. At least this time, I'm in a seat instead of hanging upside down by my feet, strapped in a straightjacket. I know kinky, right?

I hear someone enter behind me. "Good morning, Jack. So, nice of you to visit with us again." It's none other than the familiar voice of Vincent. God, I'm really starting to hate this guy. But, hey, being captured and tortured relentlessly by annoying old farts is just one of the many benefits to being married to an international spy.

I spit the blood forming in my mouth out and reply, "Always a pleasure, but do you think this time we can skip all the talking bullshit. I know what you want and as always you won't be getting it from me."

He laughs, finally coming into my view. "Oh, Jack. I see you still haven't lost you spunk. That's really amazing. Too bad you can't fight like your wife or you'd be one hell of an assign."

"Funny, I was just thinking, too bad you're such a cowardly piece of shit because if you weren't, I might be stuck looking at your ugly mug the rest of my life," I reply, smiling, remembering the last time he ran before my beautiful wife entered the picture.

My wife is trained in martial arts, and before joining the C.I. A. was part of an elite special forces SEAL branch. Let's just say she is literally the most badass person on the face of this earth and everyone knows it. Well, everyone within a small circle of people.

"That mouth is going to get you into major trouble one day, Jack."

"Uh, Cujo, am I the only one, who has taken note of the fact that I am tied up to an ugly ass chair taken from Perez Hilton's garage sale. I'm pretty sure I'm in trouble because one of you mother fuckers is about to come out of the closet and let's be honest, I'm fine the only fine piece of tail around. Quick, between you and me, is it the man with the purple tinted sunglasses, I just gotta know."

"Shut up!" Vincent yells stuffing a sock into my mouth. Literally. It tastes like he just took it off his feet. Classy man. The guy with the purple tints, throws a bucket full of ice cold water at my face, and I begin gagging. Crap. I need to relax. Breath. Come on, babe, where the hell are you? "Start the engine," Vincent instructs a man behind me. Fuck. Engine means electricity, and electricity means electrocution. And me no likey the shock treatment.

I hear two clips being attached to the chair.

"Still think the chair is stupid, Jack," Vincent snares, taking the sock out of my mouth.

"Shit," I exclaim with shock. "Vincent, it's you! My god. Well, I guess a congratulations is in order. Have you told the family yet? I can imagine that being very hard on them. Being that they are very very catholic. Top or bottom?" I ramble on. Come on, babe, I can only prolong death for so long.

"Jack, you really do need to learn how to put a muzzle on yourself," he smiles, stuffing the sock back into my mouth. It feels like his goal is simply to break my jaw in the process. I see him make eye contact with the man behind me, and give a small nod. Shit! With only the nod as my warning, I instantly feel bolts of electricity passing through my body. Pain courses every inch of my skin, but I try not make a sound. The sock keeping me from locking my jaw and breaking my teeth at the intensity. Then, as quickly as it came, it stops. "So, Jack, where is your deadly wife, uh?"

I shoot him a serious glare, telling him without words that my lips are sealed.

"Okay. If that is how you want it," he nods to the man again, and the pain starts up, only so much worse. That's when I hear it. An explosion from outside, followed by gunfire. My baby always knows how to make an entrance. However, the man hasn't turned off the machine, and my torture continues. I try clutching onto the seat, but it's relentless. The pain seems never ending.

Vincent must hear the sounds too, for his eyes lock with mine and he appears scared shitless. Yeah, my wife has that effect on people. "Finish him up," he orders, before leaving. Great.

I'm about to lose consciousness when suddenly everything stops.

And I hear in my ear a sweet seductive voice "Hey, babe, sorry I took so long. Did you miss me?" She gives me a kiss on the check before, taking the sock out of my mouth.

"Only a little," I say in between gasps of air. "You okay?"

She nods, rolling her eyes, as she always does when I ask about her well being. Like I can't tell the toll all of this takes on her too.

"Don't give me that. I need to make sure my sexy badass wife is in one piece," I laugh, but I feel myself fading. I can hear her sigh as she unties my bonds.

"I'm fine, really. Now, let's get my hot strong man to the hospital. It looks like you have another broken nose, and a concussion," she adds inspecting my head.

"Hmm, I love it w-when you talk m-medical to me," I stutter as a shock runs through me once more, still feeling the effects.

"Come on," she finishes, helping me stand on my feet, wrapping her arm around my waist for extra support.

I don't remember getting to our jeep, and I, sure as hell, don't recall getting to the hospital, or them putting a hospital gown on me, but I am and they did.

I woke for the second time today to find, a beautiful blonde laying right beside me in the small twin size hospital bed. Her head resting on my shoulder, her arm draped across my chest, and her legs dangled with mine. She has a gash on her forehead, but other than that she is perfect. Snuggling closer into my side.

I met her in high school and fell madly in love with her, but missed my chance. So, eight years ago when I pumped into her at the local coffee shop, I wasn't going to let her slip through my fingers again. She told me this was her lifestyle, so I told her I didn't care. She left me in the dust, claiming it was for my safety. God, my safety was not going to take away my happiness.

After six months of scouring the world to find her, the computer nerd she loved from high school, me, tracked her down, and proposed on the spot. We eloped at a courthouse in Lebanon, and never looked back. The first time I was captured was the worst. She about gave up right then, but I wouldn't have it. I told her I could deal with the physical pain, but the emotional pain of being without her was something I could not handle. That's right I laid it all on the table. I'm can be vulnerable. Eat your hearts out ladies.

I don't care if my life is threatened by a crazy ass terrorist, or assigns with weird accents. I don't care if I have to get electrocuted by a bolt of lightning from Zeus himself, or spend the night in the freezing tundra because everyday I get to call this woman my wife. I get to love her, and that is good enough for me.

I plant a soft kiss on her head, careful to avoid the gash. She shifts closer to me and sighs in content, and I fall back asleep.

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Hey fellow bookworms! This story was obviously inspired by the music video for Crossfire, but Jack's personality was heavily influenced by Deadpool because why not. I hope you enjoyed reading the short, as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all of your support! Feel free to comment below with your thoughts and if you liked it be sure to vote. I update with new shorts every Wednesday, so stay tuned!

Thanks again!

Stay awesome!