“If Dad knows there’s a crime being committed, tell him to pursue it,” Saskia said. “He’s Enn, and I do not work for him.”
“Why did I come all this way?” Kinzie groused, throwing her hands up. “I knew you weren’t going to listen.”
Saskia furrowed her brow. Kinzie couldn’t have come from that far, because Saskia had only just arrived in the Bobsled.
“Can I get a picture before I go?” Kinzie asked, sliding a Virp from her glove.
“What?” They had no pictures of them together as adults, and she was touched that her sister wanted one.
“For your fan page,” Kinzie explained. “There are rumors going around you’re being kept as a slave. I’m here on behalf of a human rights group… looking out for Zara.”
Saskia swallowed her disappointment. “I did not choose that name.”
“Smile,” Kinzie teased, chuckling when Saskia glowered. But she snapped the photo and left, like that had been her intention all along. It was not the kind of grand sibling reunion she’d witnessed with Danny and Tray, and it made her feel alone and eager to leave again.
Going to her quarters, she changed into her regular clothes—sturdy pants, breathable top with actual sleeves, nothing loose, flowing, or dangling to worry about. She switched her Virp to a leather mount, then wrapped her wrists in protective cuffs. Then one-by-one, she concealed her weapons. Knife, shivs, a stunner that blended into her wrist cuff. This was the life she knew and wanted back. Life on this ship. Sliding into her boots, she tapped her heel until the auto-seal tightened them around her ankle.
“You look scary,” Chase commented when Saskia came into the galley. He sat at the table, twirling a tea packet in one hand, just like Danny did when debating whether to brew or brood.
“Are you living here now?” Saskia asked.
Chase shrugged. “I’m hoping your being here means Danny isn’t dead either.” He looked at her pleadingly.
“He isn’t dead,” Saskia confirmed, sliding into the bench seat opposite him.
Chase covered his mouth to contain his welling emotion. Pressing the tea packet under his nose, he inhaled the aroma.
“I need to get to Olcott,” Saskia said. “Genova might know where Hawk is.”
“She probably took him to her engine warehouse and couldn’t get him out again,” Chase quipped, then gave her a penitent look. “Sorry. Are you worried?”
“He’s been missing five days,” Saskia said.
“Not missing. Just not here,” Chase said, drumming his fingers against the table. “It’s not like he has any obligation to check in with me, and there’s no one else he would check in with.”
Saskia bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong. Hawk could be perfectly fine, but she needed to check. “If I show you how to operate the Bobsled, will you fly to Clover and tell Danny what’s going on?”
“You’re just deciding that I’m going to Clover today?” Chase huffed. “You’ve been around swanks too long.”
Saskia frowned, then got up from the table. Danny and Tray had abandoned Hawk weeks ago, and she’d been so hung up trying to stay with Tray, she’d forgotten her duty to protect him. She didn’t need them. She’d find Hawk on her own.
“Wait! I’ll go. I’ll go,” Chase called, chasing after her. “I still want to fly the Bobsled. I just wanted you to ask.”
Amanda ducked under the console, pulling Alex’s body over hers for cover. She felt a mushiness in his torso, telling her that he’d probably broken a rib, but she needed his sidearm. Finding the pulse rifle, she fired at Coro.
“Alex,” Jennifer moaned, crawling toward him.
“No, Jen, come on,” Amanda said, climbing over Alex and grabbing a hold of her. “We have to get out of here. We have to go now.”
“I have to—”
“That army you mentioned is coming,” Amanda said, pushing Jennifer to the forward hatch. “Down!”
She made Jennifer go first, and she gave one last look to Alex before closing the door hatch.
“Mid-deck!” Amanda ordered. The door was only one level down, but in the dark, Jennifer moved right past it. Amanda’s Occ gave her better visibility, and she threw the lever. The ladder was a secondary escape for the crew quarters, and she didn’t expect Coro’s people to be guarding it.
“Hatch! Hatch!” Amanda hissed, corralling Jennifer into the hall then pushing her to the exit.
“There’s no stairs,” Jennifer said.
“The hull will indent when we open the hatch,” Amanda said. The hatch was meant as an escape, not a point of entry. She was more confident in the path, but she made Jennifer go first, because she didn’t want to lose her. A cloud of dust rose when they hit the barren land. The Cadence was parked among the tool sheds in the middle of the wind farm.
Someone came out the bay door, shouting. Amanda wondered how many people constituted Coro’s ‘army.’ Jennifer ran for the nearest shed, but Amanda pushed her onward, taking cover in the shade of each windmill.
“Dome! Hurry!” Amanda cried. There was no cover out in the fields. They needed the city, the houses, and Enn. It was often safer among civilians.
One of Coro’s people fired a shot and Amanda felt a surge of electricity through her feet. Her leg spasmed, but Jennifer grabbed her arm, and somehow, she found her stride again. They darted left immediately after entering the dome, and Jennifer broke the gate of the nearest privacy fence, taking shelter in someone’s backyard.
“Alex,” Jennifer gasped, dropping to her knees, clutching her chest. “He’s—”
“He’ll live,” Amanda said, pressing her ear to the gate. The back and sides were solid, but the gate separating them from the front yard was low and decorative. Amanda crept diagonally toward the front gate. “Coro is after me. His people will chase me.”
“But—”
“Alex is alive. They’ll leave him. Coro won’t kill him for spite,” Amanda assured. She was only guessing, but considering the man hadn’t hurt Jennifer, she hoped he would show mercy. “We keep them chasing me, and they’ll leave Alex alone.”
“Keep them chasing you?” Jennifer asked. “How is that better?!”
“I don’t know. In the moment, I preferred fugitive to prisoner,” Amanda carped. “Do you have a way to contact Danny?”
“Uh. Yes,” Jennifer said, her hand ghosting over her Virp.
“Tell him Alex needs help,” Amanda said.
“What about us?” Jennifer asked. “We need help.”
“We still have the Enn on our side,” Amanda said. “I just need to find that detective who helped me in the hospital.”
“What was his name?” Jennifer asked.
“Don’t know,” Amanda said. “Don’t remember. I was delusional. I talked to a lot of people who weren’t there.”
“Then how do you know he was real?” Jennifer asked.
“Because someone real had to untie me.”
33
The iron gate dividing the Matthews and Zenzele gardens had been locked ever since Danny’s mother died. Steven didn’t like him having a shortcut to the Zenzele estate, but it never stopped Danny. Ayize had brought him through the gate last night, so Danny knew the lock was gone. New hinges gleamed on the gate, and the handle had been sanded and polished. He stepped through to the Matthews side, feeling an instant dread. Ezekiel’s comment about the Vimbai wars terrified him. True or not, someone out there believed this house was built with blood money.
The back yard looked decently maintained, despite the lack of inhabitants in the house. Ayize said they kept the ground cover low so that it didn’t become a security risk. When Oriana disappeared, the Zenzele’s had planned to take over the house and use it as living quarters for the families who worked the estate, but then Mikayla showed up with Hero and things went sideways. Ayize had given him the passkey for the door locks, but Danny wasn’t sure he could go in there alone. He didn’t want to go in at all, but somehow he hoped he’d remember more of his mother’s secrets if he
went back to the home where she’d kept them. Mrs. Zenzele had once told him that Clara Matthews did more than buy land and manage apartment buildings.
“What did you do, Mom?” Danny whispered, tapping the key to the back door, inhaling a whoosh of musty air as the frosted glass slid open. He stepped inside and the lights came on. The glittering, clean yellow kitchen with floral tiles lining the counters had not been upgraded since Danny was a kid. Tray had painted flowers just like this around the cooking island on Oriana, and Danny hadn’t realized why before now.
The wind whipped outside, blowing dirt and leaves into the kitchen, and the Bobsled landed outside. Gasping in relief, he dashed into the yard and up the ladder, ready to fly anywhere to escape the chilling memories of this place. He tapped the cockpit hatch, wincing when the heated moonslate burned his hands. The hatch slid back and he found himself face-to-face with Chase. Danny nearly fell off the ladder from shock.
“I thought sure Sky—”
“—killed you,” Chase finished. “Same.”
He’d thought Chase dead from the moment Sky appeared in the middle of the Rocan tundra with the Bobsled, but here he was. Alive. His face was pale and smudged with ash, like he’d just crawled out from under an engine. Danny ghosted his hand over Chase’s cheek, and they both shuddered.
The last time they’d spoken, they fought. Insults mixed with punches. It was never meant to be a long-standing feud, and Danny held no grudge, but they hadn’t spoken in years. Scrambling into the ‘sled, Danny pulled Chase into a hug, forcing him over the divider between the pilot’s seat and the bench in the back.
“Oh, okay. We’re hugging,” Chase said, tripping and falling against Danny’s chest as he climbed the seat. “Hi,” Chase whispered.
“Hi,” Danny said.
“Hi.”
They both laughed in disbelief. Chase’s grip loosened, and he pulled back, shifting his stance over the saddle seat, balancing on one knee, so he wouldn’t have both feet in the foot wells. Danny’s hands slid down Chase’s arms. Chase smoothed the front of Danny’s jacket, petting the material, looking Danny up and down like he still couldn’t believe his eyes.
“You look like hell,” Chase said, pinching Danny’s stubble-roughened chin.
Inhaling loudly, Danny cleared his nose and throat, and then wiped the moisture from his face. “Is this yours?” Danny asked. “You made another?”
“It’s yours. Ours. Saskia showed me how to fly it,” Chase replied. His chest rose and fell noticeably, his face twitching every time he blinked. “It’s amazing.”
“About before—” Danny began, sheepishly, his fingers tracing Chase’s sternum.
“Me, too,” Chase waved.
It was as much apology as either could muster about the way they’d parted, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Are you all right?” Chase asked, sinking into the seat, reclining against the back.
Danny nodded, but he was not okay. Their friendship had never lent itself to heart-to-heart conversations. It had always been about forgetting the serious problems for a while. It was part of why they’d never fought to keep in touch. Now, Danny’s emotions were bursting and he was eager to forget why he was in his own backyard.
Tentatively, Chase took his hand. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” he said.
Crumbling with need, Danny pulled Chase into an embrace, and Chase hugged him back. There was nothing awkward this time. Danny buried his face in Chase’s neck, and felt Chase’s hand come behind his head, holding him close.
“Welcome home,” Chase whispered again, pulling out of the hug and cradling Danny’s face with both hands. They looked into each other’s eyes, apologies and sentiment floating between them. Chase ran his thumbs over Danny’s cheeks, taking stock of the bruises.
Their lips met.
Danny wasn’t sure who had initiated, but neither he, nor Chase were keen on breaking the kiss. Danny opened his mouth to the kiss, hungrily absorbing the comfort and intimacy of the connection. They’d only hooked up a handful of times, but it was always a hot release or a distraction. This was asking too much.
Panting, they stared at each other, attempting to converse with their eyes. They used to be good at this, but then, it used to be lust that fueled their silent conversations.
“They made me believe you were dead,” Chase said, his hands wandering over Danny’s head and shoulders, his eyes searching repeatedly for confirmation that this wasn’t a dream. “I kept asking, and no one would tell me what happened to you. Where have you been?”
“Dying to see you,” Danny said, forcing a laugh, running his fingers over Chase’s lips. They kissed again, diving in aggressively. Passion, desperation, and a hint of playfulness mixed together in the steamy kiss, and before Danny knew it, he was laughing too hard to continue. He leaned his forehead against Chase’s, letting his fingers dance along the border of Chase’s belt.
“Maybe we should take this inside,” Chase panted ruefully.
“Not if you want to finish,” Danny quipped, though the suggestion of moving brought so many harsh memories, it broke the mood. “Take me away from here.”
Choking on a sob, Danny hugged Chase again, fear of the future paralyzing him. They rocked foot-to-foot, and Chase whispered in his ear.
“It’s okay. We’re okay,” Chase said over and over, holding Danny tightly. He tilted his chin, his lips touching Danny’s lightly, and Danny kissed back fervently.
Chase rubbed his hands over Danny’s back, sliding his hand under Danny’s shirt, offering skin-to-skin contact. Danny shrugged out of his jacket, and then stripped off Chase’s shirt. Connected by the lips, they shed their shoes and pants, and Chase laid back, letting Danny pin him against the seat.
Old rhythms returned and need took over. The more they kissed, the more Danny realized that Chase needed this, too. They were apologizing to each other over and over, and finally Danny broke the kiss, caressed Chase’s cheek, and instead of apologizing, he offered forgiveness. The desperation faded from their touch, and things started to feel good.
Danny lay on the grass in the shade of the Bobsled, gasping for breath, focusing on the slow-fading tingles of pleasure, not wanting to remember where they were. Chase had a natural instinct for Danny’s body, and played him like a harp. It felt good to be known.
Pillowing an arm under his head, Danny arched his naked body, already uncomfortable and chilled, but not wanting to open his eyes. Flopping his hand to one side, Danny found Chase’s abs and rubbed over the coarse hair and well-defined muscles. Chase twitched when Danny hit a ticklish spot. Their eyes met, and they both laughed incredulously.
“Well that was—”
“A mistake,” Chase finished, sitting up and searching for his pants. Danny touched Chase’s back, getting one last feel of his skin before they covered up and moved on. Every time he and Chase had sex, Danny said it was a mistake. He’d kept Chase at arm’s length with those words, and now he regretted it.
“I was going to say perfect, but why break tradition,” Danny mumbled, drawing his fingers up Chase’s spine, and then outlining his shoulder blades. He leaned around Chase to kiss his cheek, but Chase ducked away.
His confidence fading, Danny withdrew, drawing one knee to his chest, clinging to the memory of Chase in his arms. This was a mistake; Danny could see it now. The release had dissipated the turmoil of emotions clouding Danny’s judgment. He could sense the regret radiating off of Chase.
Finding his Virp, he slid it onto his wrist, giving half a glance when it vibrated with an incoming message. His eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet.
“What? Is it Saskia?” Chase asked, shoving his legs into his pants, lying back on his shoulders so he could lift his hips and slide the garment on.
“Jen,” Danny said, reading the message over and over, willing it to say more than the five words it did. “Alex is hurt. I have to go back to Pierce. I have to go now!”
“Alright, let’s go,” Chase said, to
ssing Danny’s pants at his chest. Danny fumbled the garment, nearly twisting a knee trying to get it on.
“You don’t have to,” Danny said. His legs were shaking and his body sore—not from sex, but from all the trauma that had preceded it and the trauma that promised to follow.
“Danny, he’s my friend, too,” Chase said, cinching his belt, tossing his jacket into the ‘sled. “Besides, I’m not going to sit in your backyard and watch you fly off in my ‘sled.”
His tone was light, but his cheeks were tight with regret. Chase took the pilot’s seat and Danny slouched in the back, sliding into his shoes and sending messages to Jennifer on his Virp.
“Did she say what’s wrong?” Chase asked.
“No. She’s not responding,” Danny said, sending out another burst of messages. He tried communicating directly to the Cadence, and all he got back was an echo saying the message was received.
“Where in Pierce are we headed?” Chase asked. “I don’t imagine we can land this just anywhere.”
“Wind farm. Coro took the Cadence there,” Danny replied.
“That’s where that ship went. What does Coro want with the Cadence?”
“What does any boss want? Power,” Danny said, fingering his pulse rifle in case the man showed up unexpectedly. “He tells Alex when to go and where, and Alex complies or he loses the ship.
“I know the feeling,” Chase muttered. “Sikorsky knocked out my whole crew with stunners and put a bag over my head to get me to Kemah.”
“Oh, Zive. I’m sorry,” Danny gushed, both confused and concerned by the revelation.
“That’s the problem with you swanks,” Chase brooded, not realizing the sting of his words. “Thinking your money buys forgiveness for treating the working class like slaves. They all throw money at you in the end, I just wish they would negotiate before pointing the stunner at my head. Tray didn’t need a weapon. He’d throw all the money in the world at me if I kept you happy.”
“What?” Danny asked, feeling a chill in his limbs.
The Gray Market: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 5) Page 27