“Isa.”
“There are all kinds of thugs wandering these lands. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Charles Buke, and I plan to make it my personal responsibility to escort you home.”
A furrow deepened between her brows. “You work with Heath?” Her eyes darkened. “The cryo-pods were your cargo?”
“Oh my Goodness, no.” Buke pulled an expression of mock horror. He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I will admit to being there when the Annie Mae was loaded. I supply Resu with luxury items that are extremely fragile. It’s important to make sure everything is stowed correctly.” He tapped one thin lip and then his mouth twisted in distaste. “Yes, I do remember there were cryo-pods present.” He raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “Are they relevant?”
“Isa, he’s lying!” The restraints gouged deeper, spearing Heaths’ arms in agony. He gasped, bending at the waist. Blood splashed at his heels.
Buke waved at Heath as if at a mongrel dog. “I am far better equipped to accompany a lady such as you.” He bowed, an insincere smile spreading across his face.
Isa’s gaze ricocheted between Heath and Buke. Confusion clouded her eyes. “Heath was carrying illegal cryo-pods on the Annie Mae. You expect me to believe you knew nothing about this when you were there when they loaded the ship?”
“Your friend here has been less than transparent. I suspect he never told you that his crew is composed of a convicted smuggler and an incorporated AI who removed herself from the obligatory supervision of the Human Hybrid Monitoring Agency. Or that he has a long history of transporting goods across hyper space without documentation.” Buke swung around to face Heath, his face tweaked into a smug smile. “I think those facts speak for themselves.”
Isa took a hesitant step closer. Trembles shook her slender arms. “Heath, is this true?”
“Isa, you have to listen to me, none of that—”
“Is. It. True?”
Heath hung his head, exhaled slowly. There had to be a way out of this but whatever it was it evaded him. “Yes, but it doesn’t—”
Buke clapped his hands. “Exactly! Now ask yourself who is responsible for smuggling cryo-pods with innocent people to far off planets for God-knows-what.”
“I…” Indecision wracked Isa’s blue eyes.
“Let her go,” Heath insisted. Even if Isa was lost to him he’d fight tooth and nail to keep her safe.
Buke made a dismissive flick of his wrists. “What’s important is that you are now free of this scoundrel’s clutches.” With a double-handed grip on her shoulders he steered her away. “I’m just saddened at the illegal activities my pilots get up to without my knowledge.” He arched a manicured silver eyebrow that Heath wanted to slice off his face.
“You—” Desperate, Heath lunged at the bastard again, but with the disadvantage of being restrained, Buke sidestepped him, tripping him with a jutting foot.
Heath hit the dirt facedown. “Isa, don’t listen to him.” Heath squirmed onto his back, gasping for air then twisted and got one foot stable. His thighs shaking with the effort, he took a knee. “I’m sorry. I never planned to hurt you. I only wanted to keep you safe and—”
Isa shouldered his backpack. She faced Buke. “I want to go home to Earth. Can you take me there?”
Panic flared low in his gut. No. She couldn’t leave. She had no idea what Buke was capable of. “No—”
“You’ve said quite enough.” Buke looked amused. “And I have other things to do apart from standing around listening to you two argue.”
Isa spoke in a whisper. “I can’t tell when you’re telling the truth, Heath.”
Fuck.
Isa wasn’t even looking at him now. She stared at the ground, chewing on her bottom lip, the toes of her boots turned inward.
When she met his gaze, her eyes were glassy.
It pained him to know that he caused that hurt. “Isa, please believe me, I never meant to hurt you…”
Everything else had been honest. One hundred percent. But the words stuck in his throat like burrs.
Buke made me bring you here.
To Resu. The planet of Predators.
The missing piece fell into place.
Heath jerked upright. “Isa, he brought you here as prey. For the hunt. It’s the only explanation.”
Greed flared in Buke’s eyes. He tutted and grasped Isa with blanched knuckles, steering her away. “The things lawless men will say. The only person who knows the reason for you being here is Heath himself.”
Isa shook her head, her gaze downcast, releasing him.
He had betrayed her trust and let her down. Just like her husband. He saw that now. But he was powerless to change it and she refused to listen to his explanations.
“Goodbye, Heath.” Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
He dropped his head, unable to meet her eyes any longer, wanting to say the words but powerless to form them.
Not everything was a lie.
Like the way he felt about her.
30
Isa followed Buke to his larger luxury hopper. He made sure she was comfortable and had one of his staff bring her a cold drink. She sipped it out of politeness but her mind was elsewhere. It tasted of raspberry and bubbles popped against the glass. Buke was perfectly attentive. Perhaps too much.
Through the large viewscreen, she watched Heath being escorted away. Despite the sweetness of her drink there was bitterness in her mouth.
She massaged her aching neck and crossed her legs tightly. There was nothing left to say. Heath had lied to her the entire time she’d been with him and she’d just been too blind to see it. Blind or allowing herself to be deceived because she was attracted to him? For him and his crew of criminals, it had all been about the hard cash. She was angry with herself as much as at Heath. How could she have been so naïve? After everything Karl had thrown at her, she thought she’d learned her lesson.
Damn.
She sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself. She’d dealt with worse. Lived with Karl and all his crap. So why did she feel so bad?
When the craft lifted off, she let her head drop, closing her eyes, creating the illusion of sleep so she didn’t have to speak to anyone.
Heath hadn’t been brought onto the ship. Of that she was sure. So, where was he? She dug her nails into her palms, fighting the repetitive loop of her thoughts. Deep down she asked herself, why did she even care?
The flight was mercifully short and when they landed, she followed Buke out of the air-conditioned chill of his ship back into the dry air of Resu.
Buke beamed and gestured for her to follow him. “Ixoth. Welcome.”
Tall buildings rose as far as Isa could see. Elegant opalescent blue-green shards that stood in brilliant juxtaposition to the red-hued sky.
“This way.” Buke swept one arm toward the tallest structure. People thronged around the base, entering and exiting through a dark slash.
He steered her with gentle but insistent pressure. Isa followed, the sincerity of his smile nibbling at the edges of her conscience.
Inside the building, goosebumps rose on her skin from the cool air. Above her head, a vast atrium ascended into shadowy chill. Buke ushered her into an elevator that shot upward with barely perceptible motion then opened on a long smoke-gray corridor. Buke strode ahead and Isa walked behind, his men at her heels. They passed only a few people, all men, their clothes and bodyguards suggesting wealth far beyond anything Isa had ever experienced. Heath had been right; Resu was a planet for the rich.
God. Heath.
They stopped at a door which Buke opened with a press of his palm to a side panel. A bright sunlit room beckoned inside.
Buke dipped in a bow. “You can get cleaned up here. Refreshments will be delivered.”
Isa stepped into the room, her arms clutching protectively across her chest. How could she be feeling Heath’s absence in such a short space of time and why was she even missing him? She’d chosen to leave him behind. She sw
allowed to say thank you, working against the dust and anxiety that filled her mouth.
Buke tapped the breast pocket of his tailored suit. “I have business to attend to, but make yourself comfortable.” He gestured at her dusty ripped clothes. “I’m sure you’d like to get washed up and change into some more appropriate attire?”
“Sure.” Her voice was awkward in her throat. This was good right? She was out of the damn wilderness in a luxury room and Buke had promised to take her home. The door slid shut, and she was alone. Isa sagged against the wall, slid down onto her haunches, and scrubbed her hands across her face.
She was missing Heath because exhaustion was making her irrational but she’d trusted him and he deceived her. There was nowhere to go from there.
A breeze blew in from open french windows, richly scented, reminiscent of honeysuckle from back home.
Home.
Her focus since she’d woken from the cryo-pod had been home. It hadn’t even occurred to her that there might be an alternative. What was she going back for? She crossed the room and poured water from a carafe. She drank the cool liquid, not caring that some escaped and ran down her chin. Thirst slaked, she wiped her mouth.
No family.
No job.
No husband.
What exactly was worth returning for?
Isa parted the cobweb-fine voile curtain that covered the windows. A small balcony gave a breathtaking view of Ixoth. A hubbub of industry and voices rose to meet her. When she leaned over the rail, rows of multicolored stalls were set out far below like a living patchwork blanket. Tent awnings rippled in the evening breeze wafting with the tang of roasting sugar.
She inhaled the sweet air and tilted her head back. Above stars twinkled in unfamiliar constellations and in amongst them, an enormous star liner hung in orbit. Hoppers streamed like worker ants back and forth from its boxy underbelly. She’d flown one of those. The memory of the giddy delight blew through her. She’d felt so alive piloting the hopper.
Being with Heath had made her feel alive.
Buke would ensure she got home. Book her a berth on a star liner returning to Earth.
Back to Karl and her dead-end career.
She let the voile fall, obscuring the sky.
What if this was her opportunity? The chance to make choices for herself, for what she really wanted. They needed engineers throughout the galaxy. She could upgrade her skills. She could learn. Find a new place for herself. A fresh start.
She stared at her wedding band. It looked insignificant. Not much of a barrier, after all.
On the bed, clothes were laid out, woven from of soft, springy fabric like merino wool. A jerkin, a long-sleeved top, and fitted trousers. Her fingers grazed a leather belt with a gun holster. Why would she need a weapon on the journey home?
Something dark and grubby on the floor caught her eye.
Heath’s backpack.
She lifted it and sat heavily on the bed. Their separation had been so fraught that she forgotten about it. She’d ask Buke to return it.
She played with the zipper, arguing with herself. This segment of her life was over. Put it down. Sentiment won out. A puff of desert and wood smoke escaped as she undid the tie at the top and an image of Heath, naked and sleek with water, appeared unbidden in her mind.
Isa screwed her eyes shut. Dismissed the vision and tipped out the contents of the backpack.
First aid kit. Water bottle. His holey socks. The ones too badly knitted to wear. He still carried them. Heath wasn’t all about the money; there was a tenderness he kept hidden.
There was something else wrapped in a scrap of cloth. She recognized the fabric. Heath’s shirt. Her heart thudded as she rubbed it between her fingers, remembering the feel of his hard body against hers. Inside her. With shaking fingers she unwrapped the small parcel. Something rolled free and under the bed. Isa fumbled in the dark space, her grasp closing around something solid. The quartz heart glimmered under the room’s soft lighting. Her breath stalled in her lungs as she smoothed the rock with the pad of her thumb.
From the beach where they’d made love.
He’d picked it up and kept it. Isa rocked back on her heels, her eyes suddenly burning.
Heath might have deceived her but whether or not she liked it, he was a part of her now.
31
Heath rapped his head back against the hopper’s smooth interior hull, frustration gnawing deep inside him. How had he made such a terrible mess of everything?
The mental checklist of what he’d lost was staggering. Cash to pay for his mother’s medical care. His ship. Angie. Jack. And the biggest loss of all. Isa.
As the small hopper circled in the star liner’s shadow, his captors focussed their attention on the rapidly approaching docking channel in the liner’s massive underbelly. Heath rotated his wrists, still fighting the restraints but all he achieved was shearing off more crusted blood.
“Incoming,” one of the bored-looking goons called, and he pointed at Heath’s comms screen.
The black square blipped into life, fuzzed, and settled.
Buke. Shit. Heath looked away, closed his eyes even though it was pointless.
“Heath,” Buke said in an oily voice. When did this man ever stop? “I have a new job for you.”
Heath opened his eyes. “I’d rather die working down the Xanth mines.”
“Strong words. Do you need a reminder of your motivations?”
Heath risked a glance at the screen. Buke’s face disappeared, and he expected to see Isa—not his mother.
She was sitting in a pink and blue sprigged nightgown on the edge of her hospital bed. “Heath!”
“Mom.” What the hell was this about? Buke’s image shrank to a small cube in the screen’s corner. He was watching with clear enjoyment.
“Honey, I’ve been so worried about you. Mister Buke told me about the Annie Mae. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Mom—”
She twisted her thin hands in her lap. “Jack and Angie?”
Heath took a breath. His friends. “I don’t know yet. They looking after you?”
She nodded. “You going to find them?”
God, what was he supposed to say to that? He flexed his tied hands. “Yes. I’m coming home, Mom. Everything will be fine.” Lies. All he spoke now was lies.
Buke smiled slyly in the corner. Heath consoled himself with mental images of smashing his ugly face in.
His mom’s eyes curved with a smile. “Take care coming home, honey. I worry about you. You look tired.”
A weight settled on his shoulders. He doubted it would ever lift. “I am, Mom. I’m so tired.”
“Heath, what happened?” She looked straight at him, the muddy confusion of her illness gone. “You look different. It’s not just the Annie Mae, is it?”
Mom radar. He was different. Isa had made him happy for the first time in years. But he’d blown it. He shook his head, searching for the right words. There weren’t any. “It’s fine. There was a woman…” There was nothing more to say. Isa was gone.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
There was too much understanding in her voice. It threatened to rip him apart. Heath stared at the floor, his vision narrowing to the toes of his boots, focusing on keeping his heart intact.
“Heath.” Her voice was commanding, not frail, as he’d known it for so many years, but strong and knowledgeable. The voice she’d used when he was a child. “I know you’re strong. You’ve taken care of me. After everything with your father… I think you got good at being strong for me instead of the other way around.” She leaned forward, closer to the comms screen in her room. “But I’m okay, honey. You can’t be there for me all the time. You need to live your own life too, before it’s too late. I can take it. I want you to be happy.”
“Mom—”
The screen went blank and Buke was back. Heat flushed through Heath in a violent wave. “Buke, open the link again. Bring her back. ”
Buke flicked his fingers. “Not quite the persuasive chat I’d instructed her on.” He looked down, his movements suggesting he was searching through information. “You’re going to Thanos, where you’ll pick up a freighter prepped and loaded for delivery to Earth. I’m sure I needn’t remind you that this delivery is confidential or of what will happen if the delivery isn’t completed? Your mother looked very comfortable, and we wouldn’t want that to change.”
“Where’s Isa?”
Buke leered, exposing his too-large teeth. “That would spoil the surprise.”
The screen blanked.
Dizziness washed through him. He’d care for his mother, but not like this. Not at the cost of leaving Isa to whatever Buke had planned for her.
Even if she didn’t want him, he wouldn’t abandon her. He’d make good on his original promise and take her home because—Gods knew—that was the last place Buke was taking her.
Buke wasn’t taking Isa to Earth. Not when he’d gone to the all the effort of bringing her to Resu. His charm was a smokescreen for the illegal hunt he had organized.
The murmur of the guiding port master buzzed over the hopper’s comms. Soon they would dock. He had to decide—and fast.
The control panel at the front glowed golden, and a muted shudder pulsed through the hopper as it engaged with the star liner.
A digital voice boomed through the small interior. “Prepare for crew to disembark”.
Heath’s seatbelt hissed free and retracted into the wall. Buke’s men yanked him to his feet and pushed him toward the rear of the craft. An automated voice chimed as he approached the exit doorway.
“Thank you for traveling with Interstellar Travel. We hope you enjoyed your journey. Have a pleasant day.” The door slid open and recycled air fanned his face.
A smaller hopper was docked nearby, its boarding door open, one of its crew slouched in the entrance. He snorted but didn’t wake up as the men shoved Heath down the exit ramp.
Heath kept his head low, scanning left and right for weak spots within the docking bay but his heart sank the further he got from the hopper. Armed guards stood at each of the entrance doors. Security was tight, people moving in hushed lines as they approached the arrival suite. Everything was running efficiently, diminishing his hopes of escape by the second.
Hunted Page 14