Chapter 9

Ray Hunt awoke slowly in another part of Isaac's facility. He was blissfully unaware of what had gone on with the other man in his life. He was blissfully unaware of everything apart from the sight of Adele his nurse bending over the wash stand in his room, the tight little uniform stretched across her ass so temptingly. He let out a small sigh, thankful for some distraction in his day of boredom and the nurse turned to see him looking at her.

'Good morning' she smiled, bringing the bowl over to the bed and placing it on the bedside table.

'Mornin'.'

'How are you this morning? Can I get you anything?'

The blond man snuggled his head against a pillow and tried to ignore the flashback to a previous life. He was led in bed with another pretty nurse bending over him to give him a shave. His shoulder was bandaged and there was a large black man standing at the bottom of the bed.

Stop it Hunt! It's your mind playing tricks. It never happened. The past never happened, just resign yourself to the here and now and be thankful your nurse looks more like Kim Bassinger than Joan Rivers.

'Nothing that's in that bowl of water' Hunt said hungrily. His eyes lingered on the top button of Adele's uniform and he imagined it popping under the pressure from his fingers. The woman saw it in her patient's eyes and something low down in her belly gave a flip. She was from a nursing agency. Her last four jobs had been to look after old, fat guys in their seventies. Their bank balances were the only healthy things about them. This new man; this handsome blond man with the haunted, hunted look in his crystal blue eyes made her suddenly aware of how alluring a nurses uniform could be to the right person. Maybe the man in the bed was the right person?

Ray Hunt had an air of danger about him. He was cool, controlled. In another situation he might have been icy and yet bubbling away just under the surface was a vulnerability that she had only seen once or twice. Those times Hunt had been sick, especially after Dr Isaac had taken him for one of his treatments. Then the orderlies had brought her patient back sick and disorientated and sometimes incoherent. At those times, she'd wanted nothing more than to get into bed by the blond's side, snuggle his body against hers and run her fingers the soft, flaxen bangs. But she was a nurse – a professional. Instead of caving in to her cravings, she'd sat by his side, wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead and held his hand. She even had the bruises on her fingers to prove the bone crushing power of his hold when he'd shouted out into his darkness and pain.

Now, those same crystal blue eyes regarded her with some other emotion. It was more than desire. It was almost a hunger, bare and exposed and raw and her body answered his need with small leaps of joy.

Adele dropped her eyes from the piercing gaze and her hands toyed with the soap in the bowl of water. Slowly Adele picked up the bar of soap and squidged it through her hands. Hunt gulped, the metaphor not lost on him and he sighed. 'Well maybe it is in the water.'

Adele giggled and the girlish sound was like a fur mitten running down Hunt's back. He reached for the nurse and almost reluctantly she allowed him to pull her down towards him. Their lips brushed. The kiss was feather light - a ghost of a touch and then Adele pulled away to look into the man's face.

'So you are feeling better?' she asked a little breathlessly.

Truthfully Hunt didn't know how he felt. He felt itchy as though his skin wanted to crawl off of his body. He needed something because he was tired of facing the four walls of his room or the equally boring four walls of the gym. He'd tried so hard not to think about his past that now he was scared to think at all and the vision of this young woman, dressed if not to impress than at least to allure, had his body twitching seven ways to Christmas. Did he want her? Was the Pope a Catholic? And yet that wasn't the only thing he wanted. He wanted…. No, he needed answers and the suspense was almost killing him. His body had healed sufficiently that he was over his aches and most of the pains. He could set himself a punishing schedule in the gym, but always, even after the most gruelling of work outs, he had that emptiness in his head and in his heart.

Ray Hunt needed answers. But if he couldn't get them then distraction was the next best thing and hungrily he pulled Adele's body back against him this time claiming her lips as his own as his hand strayed up to that oh-so-tempting top button.

The blond felt Adele's body tremble as the button came undone. The second button was easier and after the third Hunt realised that the nurse was wearing nothing under the thin pink dress. Nothing like being prepared! Idly he wondered if she'd been a girl scout.

Adele sighed into Hunt's mouth as his hands insinuated themselves inside her uniform. She'd been careful to lock the door behind her and pull the modesty curtain over the small observation window. Now truly alone, she knelt on the bed and snuggled against Hunt's hard lean body, revelling in his musky aroma and allowing herself to be seduced by his hands. Hunt felt exhilarated. The injuries to his own body had left him wondering whether everything would work again. The centre of his body had been a mass of black and blue bruises after the accident and for a while even the thought of an erection left him feeling vaguely nauseous. Now Little Ray rose to the occasion and Hunt felt a slim, cool hand wrap itself around his member, Adele's fingers whisper soft on his overheated flesh as she gently wiped at the moisture around his tip. With breath coming hard and fast now, Hunt rolled over in one fluid movement, gritting his teeth against any residual pain. He looked down at the petite woman and tossed his leg over her body, pinning her to the bed. There was nothing gentle now about his love making. After a month of crap he felt his body surge into life and Ray Hunt wanted to celebrate his return. With a barely suppressed snarl he leaned in and raped Adele's mouth with his tongue whilst his right hand pulled her uniform up so that he could gain access to the centre of her body. For a moment Hunt lost himself in the feel of the woman's body beneath his. Once again he was in control and once again he was confident and capable enough to do this. He almost let his head back to give a snort of happiness and only the small pain sound from below him stopped him in his tracks.

Beneath him, Hunt saw the look of fear on Adele's face. This wasn't what she'd fantasised about. They'd told her the patient was dangerous but like thousands of women before her, she'd had the fantasy that she could tame the beast. Reality was just a little too frightening for her and she'd stopped moving, her hand frozen besides her mouth to stop from crying out.

Hunt stopped. Half of him was ashamed and wanted to comfort her. Half of him wanted to take the woman by force and complete what he'd started. The thought scared the man so much that with a cry of rage he shot off the bed and backed himself into a corner.

'Get outa here' Hunt snarled. 'Get out and stay out. Leave me alone, ok? I'm bad for you.'

Without waiting for a reply, Adele slithered off of the bed, clutching her uniform around her and bolted for the door as though at any minute she expected Hunt to try to stop her. Instead, the blond turned and balled his hand into a fist which he ploughed full force into the wall by the side of his head. Without knowing it, tears poured down his cheeks and he sank slowly to the ground where Isaac found him a quarter of an hour later, asleep in a ball and holding his injured right hand to his chest. The doctor walked quietly over to the unconscious man and touched him lightly on the shoulder, stepping back cautiously to a safe distance. Hunt's eyes opened and for a moment there was a question there. What was he doing on the floor and why did his hand hurt? He looked up and saw the doctor and at the same time the memory of what he'd done to Adele came flooding back. Using the wall to brace himself, Hunt got to his feet and stood leaning against the cool plaster.

'Is she ok? The nurse. Is she ok? I didn't mean…..God I didn't mean to hurt her.'

'She'll be fine. She was shaken but we've sent her home. You won't be seeing her again. How are you? Let me look at that hand huh?' Isaac's voice was gentle and soothing and it struck Hunt as odd that he wasn't more angry about what Hunt had done to Adele – or tried to do.

Quietly the blond submitted to the doctor probing his injured hand. It had swollen and there were cuts across his knuckles with dried blood in sticky rivulets down to his wrist.

'It needs strapping' the doctor grunted.

'It's fine.'

'Let me be the judge of….'

Hunt's voice rose. 'I said it's fine. Just leave me alone huh? I can't face talking right now.'

'Not even to an old friend?'

Ray's eyes met Isaac's. 'Don't take this the wrong way Doc, but I wouldn't exactly call you a bosom buddy.'

Isaac shook his head. 'No offence taken, but what if I was to tell you that you had a visitor who knew you before the accident. I managed to track him down and I thought you could use a friend to talk to.'

Hunt looked suspicious? 'You've tracked a friend of mine down? Who? Why?'

'Because as well as looking after your body, I'm also concerned about your mind, my friend. You seemed like you needed someone from the old days to talk to so I managed to find Patrick O'Malley, a friend of yours from Seattle.'

The blond man shook his head. 'Do I know him? His name don't mean anything.'

Isaac smiled. 'Let me bring him in. You might start to remember once you get to talking.'

Hunt shrugged non-committally. 'Knock yourself out Doc, I'm not goin' anywhere.'

Isaac rose from the bed and went to the door. 'When you've had enough I'll have the orderlies escort Mr O'Malley out. Enjoy.'

A moment later another strange face stuck its head around the door. Mr Lake plastered on his best friendly smile and walked into the room with his hand extended.

'Ray! Oh my god Ray Hunt. They said it was you but we all thought you were dead!'

Hunt stared at the man in his room longing for some spark of recognition. None came, but ever the optimist, he decided to give it some time and play along. After all, he had nothing else to go on and this man seemed to know him well enough.

'I um….I'm sorry Pal but I don't know you. Do I?'

The visitors face fell. 'Shit Ray. They said your head was pretty fucked but I had no idea. How can I help?'

The blond shrugged. 'The Doc says you know me, so tell me about myself. Maybe I'll start to remember.'

Lake/O'Malley sat down with a sigh and seemed to compose himself. 'Where do I start?'

'At the beginning. I don't remember a fuckin' thing.'

'Oh this is so fuckin' weird! OK well, you're Raymond Maxwell Hunt and you're 32. You were born in Rainier Beach Seattle. Your Mom died last year and your Dad died a while ago. You're a fire fighter with Station 33, or at least you were until about 6 months ago.'

Hunt lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A firefighter huh? It didn't seem to fit and yet something about being an emergency worker felt right. That had been a curved ball but he could have been a lot worse. Lake/O'Malley was continuing.

'You're the Mariners biggest fan and you've never missed a game. You like to keep fit, you shoot skeet, you dive and you like climbing. Did I miss anything?'

'Dunno. Did you?' Hunt felt no attachment to this man at all. He'd no spark of recognition, no feeling of belonging with this man, in fact nothing but cold indifference. Was this how getting his memories back was supposed to feel? 'How do I know you?'

Lake/O'Malley let out a small snort. 'My God, they weren't joking when they said your head was screwed. We've known each other ever since you joined Station 33. I taught you all you know. I was your buddy when you were a rookie. Don't you remember anything?'

'Uh uh. Sorry.'

The visitors face fell. 'It's as well' he muttered.

'Why d'ya say that?'

'Nothin.'

Hunt sat up on the bed and glared. 'Don't come into my room like a long lost friend, feed me this shit and then clam up on me. If there's something else tell me!'

Lake/O'Malley let out a dramatic sigh. 'Ok Pal, you asked. You've been gone from the fire service for around 6 months. You resigned shortly after your sister….. Are you sure you want to hear?'

Hunt let out a low growl and Lake/O'Malley held up his hand. 'Ok ok. It was in all the papers. Your sister Candy had been going out with a guy. Everyone told her he was wrong for her but she was always headstrong. Anyways she went out with him one night and he got drunk. He attacked her and raped her buddy.'

Hunt put his head in his hands. Maybe he didn't want to know after all. 'Go on' he said softly.

'We all rallied around her. You were great. You wanted to kill the boyfriend there and then but instead you concentrated on Candy. She wouldn't have an abortion but when her time came….. well she didn't make it Pal. I'm sorry. Neither did the kid – a boy.'

'Shit.'

'After that, you went wild. It's been your driving force since then Ray. You wanted revenge and you've spent the last 6 months trying to find the guy.'

'His name?'

'I dunno Ray. Are you sure you want to….' Lake/O'Malley's words were cut off as Hunt sprang from the bed and wrapped his hands around his "friend's" neck.

'I asked for the punk's name.'

'Quade. Ethan Quade.' Lake/O'Malley's voice came out in a shocked squeak that the man did not need to fake. Hutch/Hunt's hands were intent on cutting off his breath.

'I remember. I remember that name. I remember wanting to kill the bastard.'

Lake/O'Malley backed away from the maddened blond to a safe distance, his eyes fixed on the angry man in front of him. 'Do you still feel that way?'

Hunt looked up, his face crumpled into an angry frown. 'Oh yeah.'

Lake/O'Malley grinned, rubbing at the bruises already forming around his neck.. 'Good, coz I can feed him to you on a plate.'