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stayed in the dormitory alone, waiting and worrying. When he did return, he refused to tell her where he’d been. All Blossom could get out of him was that his frequent absences were connected to activities on behalf of the oppressed Indians and other minorities everywhere. He bragged that he was going to be part of some kind of worldwide revolution, and until then she would just have to trust and support him. Maybe some day, he said, she would be invited to join their cause.
    Of course, she had no intention of joining any radical organization so she transferred universities and left him alone with his faction.
    Jay Walkingman’s long black braids were shaved to stubble, and a merciless countenance displaced his former warm and smiling one. Hate plowed deep furrows into his forehead and at the corners of his eyes; his formerly sensuous lips were reduced to terse, cruelly drawn lines.
    Blossom sighed. So many changes, but yet he obviously still cared enough to seek her out. His love – or lust – for her remained constant despite the other major changes in his life.
    Or had it? Blossom suddenly got some bad vibes about the situation. Perhaps he thought of her as a possession, not a person. If that was the case, he wouldn’t be content with just reclaiming her. Following Jay’s twisted logic, he’d have to dispatch his competition. For good.
    That morbid conjecture iced her flesh and roiled her stomach.
    “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? I can read it in your face, sweet Blossom,” he smiled. “You’re right, I am crazy – crazy like a fox. I’m an important part of something big. Something so big that it will shift the world’s attention to our righteous cause. Bring the world to its knees like a cheap whore. Governments will be begging to meet our demands,” Jay boasted.
    “Sounds terrific. I’m so proud of you,” she said sarcastically. “So why are you here instead of bringing the world to its knees? You expecting us to join your cause? Or is your big plan to bully the world, two people at a time?”
    When Jay raised his hand to strike her again, she defiantly awaited the blow and made no move to avoid it. He lowered his hand.
    “You’re going to see it all, Blossom. You’re going to be a part of our cause, whether you like it or not.”
    “Part of what cause?”
    “Patience, my love. Next week, you’ll be singing our praises,” Jay predicted.
    “You sound like a common terrorist to me,” Clay said. “Leave Blossom here and take me with you instead.”
    “I ain’t no queer, white boy!” he snapped. “Why would I want you in my bed?”
    Clay lunged forward again, but quickly stopped when he felt the cold barrel of the tattoo man’s gun pressed hard against his ear.
    “Just stay out of this, white pig!” Jay growled and turned toward his blonde companion whose eyes were dull expressionless orbs. “Get the chest, Lonny.”
    Lonny jostled Clay on his way to the bedroom.
    “No!” Blossom objected. “Not that! It has historical relevance.”
    “To me, it has financial relevance. Now stand up. We’re leaving,” Jay ordered brusquely.
    “I will not,” Blossom replied obdurately.
    “You mean you’d rather stay here with your white-bread fiancé?”
    “How do you know about that?”
    Jay laughed. “I watched the entire touching engagement scene from my boat yesterday.”
    “You’re a Peeping Tom these days, too?”
    Jay slapped her cheek again. “We cruise the area for dive boats and lighten them of their loads.”
    “So you’re the jerks responsible for the boat thefts around here,” she said, fighting back the tears. Jay’s slaps stung like hell, but she was too stubborn to submit to his bullying.
    He shrugged. “It’s all for the cause. We need a lot of coin for our operation. Our major operation.”
    Lonny returned with the chest. His thin biceps bulged from the weight.
    Jay yanked Blossom from the loveseat and dragged her toward the door. “Let’s go.”
    “No!”