His Every Desire

Tracy nodded, her head feeling strangely light. She knew she hadn't lost enough blood to make her woozy, the medic had even said the bleeding was minimal.

Tracy suspected it had something to do with dream visions.

She followed Mr. Hayes and several uniformed soldiers onto the dark helicopter. She didn't know much about military weaponry, but from what she could see of the helicopter and its computer systems, it was a top of the line military tool. She didn't even want to know what Mr. Hayes paid to use it.

The ground fell away as the chopper lifted into the air. Tracy pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, hoping that the change in altitude would help clear the pressure growing in her head. It felt like one of the dream connections, despite the fact that she hadn't had the blinding white light that usually preceded it.

It had to do with John Tice. The visions hadn't bothered her until she connected with him. The dreams had only become chaotic after merging with his. He was the key. His connection with her was what was causing the pain. She didn't know why, but she knew she needed to connect with him again. Kind of like resetting a switch by overloading it, she needed to connect again.

The more she thought about it, the more she knew the headaches and the lack of consistency in her dreams was due to John Tice. He had been the one dreaming of his evil henchman. He had been the one dreaming of Gordon. He had been the one dreaming of hurting her.

The power of his dreams and the intensity of his hate were fueling the dreams. She hadn't been able to connect with anyone else because his connection with her was so strong. He hated her that much that he was forcing out all the other dreams, forcing her brain to defend itself constantly against the onslaught of hostility he kept sending her.

No wonder she'd been having headaches.

The helicopter flew across the treetops, the men inside silent as they prepared. Tracy was the last to spot the dark SUV traveling down the road. John had taken an exit and was no longer on the helicopter.

It felt like a scene from a movie. Everything moved in slow motion with every detail magnified and yet somehow distorted at the same time. The helicopter hovered over the black SUV, following its every move as the driver tried to find a way to elude the floating machine.

Four black SUVs with the Hayes' logo came out of nowhere, flanking John's car. Between the four vehicles and the helicopter, he had no where to go.

He pulled over and was quickly put in handcuffs.

Tracy's hair danced in the wind as the helicopter landed and let the two of them out. John was pressed up against the side of the car, his hands bound behind him and his gray suit crinkled. He didn't look nearly as confident as he had an hour ago.

“You tried to have me killed,” Mr. Hayes said.

“Fuck you.” The older man spat, but it came no where near Mr. Hayes or Tracy.

“Why? Why did you do this?” Tracy asked, stepping forward. She made sure to stand directly in front of him so he would have to look at her.

“I don't have to talk to you,” John hissed, refusing to meet her gaze.

Something inside of Tracy snapped. The pain and confusion she'd felt these past few weeks. The betrayal from Gordon. The sleeplessness. The fact that she was shot. It was all his fault. She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Why?” Tracy repeated, tightening her grip on his chin to the point of pain. “I want to know why.”

“My daughter.”

“What about her?” Tracy squeezed harder, waiting for him to make eye contact with her.

Pale blue eyes met Tracy's. Searing white hot light flowed through her brain like lightning, shocking every neuron and synapse it touched.

The whirling, twisting colors of blue and red over white surrounded Tracy. She knew she wasn't dreaming, that both of them were still awake, but the connection was so strong she was able to transcend and enter his thoughts without being asleep.

John's mind howled with the invasion. It beat at her with icy winds and blistering heat, but she didn't relent. There was no retreat from this.

The form of Jenna filled her mind.

Only it wasn't the Jenna Tracy knew.

A scared little girl, no more than six years old, peered up at her. She wore a simple white dress with a dark blue bow in brown hair. Freckles dotted her cheeks and innocent eyes stared out at her.

“Why did you let her do that to me, Daddy?” the little girl asked. “Why would you let this happen?”

“I'm so sorry, baby,” John's voice whispered. “I promised to protect you.”

“She is going to take him away from me. You promised me that Paul and I would live happily ever after. You promised,” the little girl pouted.