by Alison Aimes
“Ryker! Jade!” Griffin’s voice reached them over the wind. “What’s the holdup?”
“I’m not pretending.” Ignoring his friend, Ryker spoke faster. “Look, you and me. It’s…complicated. Not the kind of thing I have any interest in discussing with Grif.”
“Even if I did survive, you never intended to ask me to come to the settlement. Or tell me the details of what really happened with your family.” She didn’t ask it as a question. She already knew. “You never intended to let me in like you have your other teammates.”
“You’re not like them.”
Another stab of pain. “Exactly. So, don’t pretend otherwise.”
“No. That’s not when I meant. That…that came out wrong, too. You’re not just a teammate.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, his gaze shuddering as he floundered. “What I’m trying to say is…it’s trickier with you.” He blew out a breath. “Wait, that didn’t sound right, either.” Frustration roughened his voice. “Were you even looking to stay? When we find a way to deactivate what’s inside you, would you really consider returning to the settlement and making a life there? You’ll be free to choose for yourself where you go and what you do for the first time in your life. Is that really an option you would consider?” Wary amber eyes bore into her. “You’re welcome to come if you are.”
She didn’t even bother offering a reply. Pity invitations were of no use to her.
“Hey!” Grif’s voice, closer now. “We need to go.”
“He’s right.” She turned.
Only to be checked by a tight hold at her wrist. “Wait.” Something close to panic tightened Ryker’s features. “I need to do a better job of explaining.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Maybe it would simply have been easier if she’d never felt at all? If she’d never learned all she was missing?
He shook his head. “I thought you wanted what was between us to be only temporary. Tell me what is it you want.”
“I want redemption. I want peace. I want a place to call my own.” The secret longings, concealed so long from her trainers—and from herself—tumbled out. Another sign her control was no longer what it had once been. “I want to be able to care deeply without fear or pain. Most of all, I want someone to care for me in return. Enough to believe I’m worth keeping.”
Pained eyes collided with hers. “You deserve all that, Jade. But…losing my wife and son broke something inside of me. I…I’m not sure I have it in me to be there like that for someone again. Especially someone who takes the kinds of risks you do. Especially someone who”—he swallowed hard—“I could lose so soon after finding her.”
Their gazes locked, but her heart didn’t flutter like it once had. Instead, it pulsed with a painful ache. Because he might be standing less than an arm’s length away, but she hadn’t felt as distant from him since those first few hours in that cell.
“Are you broken? Or afraid?” she challenged. “Because I’ve seen in Tyson and his girls just what the human spirit is capable of surviving. They’re proof that, even in this screwed-up world, caring for someone above all else is possible. Not just as an obligation. Or a temporary responsibility. But because they matter above all else.”
She took a step closer. “All of us die, Ryker. Whether it’s tomorrow or twenty planetary rotations from now, there’s no escaping that fate. Or the pain of the loss that comes when it happens to those around us. Maybe I’m not the person for which you’re willing to take that kind of risk and that’s okay. Given who I am, it’s likely very wise. I just hope one day you find the person who makes you decide to take that leap. I know from experience walling yourself off from everyone because you’re afraid to feel is no life at all.”
She waited until his hand dropped away. Then, without another word, she turned and left. Just as she knew he’d been intending all along.
25
A blast of brutal wind hit.
Ryker leaned into it, gritting his teeth against the needlelike cuts that snaked across his skin from the whipped-up rubble. He and Jade had both given up their protective coverings to the others and, though he wouldn’t have it any other way, the sting was a bitch.
It was nothing though compared to the ache in his chest.
A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a line of bent, weary heads. Visibility was still shit out here because of the storm, but he could make out Grif in the middle of the pack, hobbling along on his crutch, and a blurry Jade a few more heads back, scanning the perimeter as she occupied the rear of the slow-moving caravan, graceful and determined as ever.
His gut clenched. He’d fucked up. The frost in her eyes all too reminiscent of their early interactions. Before he’d discovered the fire and passion that existed beneath that perfect, queenly façade.
He missed it—her—already.
Broken or afraid? Her words came back to him now.
All the words he’d tried to use to explain had come out wrong. Of course, he couldn’t view her as simply a teammate. Because somewhere along the way she’d become far more—and that was the problem. His feelings for her as thrilling as they were terrifying.
Broken or afraid? There was a good chance he was both.
“I can’t.” The faint childlike words at his back barely reached him over the wind.
“You can.” Tyson’s voice quivered with desperation. “Just a little farther.”
“But—”
“I’m already holding Hope.”
“Then Grif?”
“He can barely keep himself upright. We can’t afford to slow anyone down. It’s too dangerous.”
“But I can’t—”
Ryker signaled a halt with an upraised fist. Swiveling around, he took in the exhaustion on the father’s and daughters’ faces and kicked himself for not realizing what they needed sooner. He really was rusty at all this caretaking shit.
He sheathed his ax.
“I’ll take her.” His voice came out sharper than intended, but sweat had already started to pool at the small of his back at just the thought of holding the tiny girl.
No surprise, she shrank deeper into her father’s leg, the coverings wrapped around her head slipping off and fluttering to the ground.
His fault. He’d let his own turmoil bleed into his tone. You care too much. Perhaps his assassin was right again, damn her.
Picking up the covering, he forced a smile. “I know I look big and mean, but that’s only so I can protect you better. I’m nothing like those guards.” He held out the tattered fabric, wishing like hell he could be offering the little girl so much more. Like real safety, or a vow that she’d never be hungry or abused again. But this was the best he could do for now.
Light brown wary eyes shifted from her father to him as she reached for the covering. But as soon as she’d snatched it from his hand, she scooted farther behind her father’s leg.
Ryker had never felt so oversized or awkward.
“I’ll take Hope and give your dad some rest.” Jade’s voice sounded from behind.
He’d been so intent on the family, he hadn’t heard her approach. Pleasure hummed through him. She might be upset with him, but he still liked having her close.
“I can—” Grif hobbled over as well.
“No.” He and Jade spoke at the same time, in sync once more. His friend would barely make it on his own steam.
“You’ve all done so much,” protested Tyson, but his shaking arms told a different story.
“It would be my pleasure. I have never handled a small offspring before.” Not looking his way once, Jade plucked the child from her father’s arms, her verbal finesse surprising Ryker. “Plus,” she added, “you are continuing to slow, and the delay only endangers us all further.”
And there is was. The bluntness he’d come to relish. He hid a smile. Then, felt his chest dip and compress. He couldn’t squander the time he’d been given with her. Not through his own stupidity.
“If you’re sure…” asked Tyson.
&nbs
p; “Hope?” Jade settled the small girl more securely on her hip. “It makes sense to give your father a rest, don’t you agree?”
“Yes.” Chin firming, the little girl nodded. “I agree.”
“It is not always easy to be a female in this universe and there are many times when being cautious is wise.” Jade’s gaze lingered on Melody, still clinging to her father’s leg. “But there are other times that require risk. Boldness. And trust.”
Trust. Boldness. Risk. His breath stuttered. How was it that someone who’d been raised to spurn any attachments was proving so much wiser about all of this than him?
“I am a warrior, but I am also a woman.” Jade was still speaking. “I would never let someone hold you who would hurt you. Ryker is my friend. He has protected me several times. You can trust him.”
It had been a long time since something that didn’t require moaning and thrusting made him feel so good. How had he repaid such an extraordinary woman? With cowardice.
“Okay.” The small, sweet voice jerked him back to the present. Persuaded by Jade’s words, Melody finally reached toward him. Her arms might be trembling, her gaze wary, but she was giving him a chance.
He shot his assassin a grateful look—which she didn’t catch since she was no longer looking his way—and then he scooped the small bundle into his arms.
“I got you. Don’t worry.” He sucked down a sharp breath as tiny hands latched behind his neck. So small. Ethereal. His son would have been even lighter if he’d gotten to hold him.
The pain was sharp. Drawing blood.
But he didn’t run from it this time. Instead, willing his hand to steady, he tucked the coverings around the tiny form and started off once more.
He was done with cowardice. Done with letting the past rule. Done with running from the pain that came with loss.
The sooner they got to the caves, the sooner he’d be able to make things right with another female.
THE LIGHT BUNDLE in her arms didn’t stop Jade from stepping into Grif’s path as the others returned to the line, their heads bowed against the wind.
The timing wasn’t ideal, her own emotions still too raw and unsettled for her liking, but this was the first moment she’d had to speak with Grif with everyone else distracted, especially Ryker.
“What’s up?” Though pale, his pain from his injury obvious, the Resistance soldier’s smile was warm and playful. It would not surprise her to learn he was quite successful with most women.
But she was not most women.
“What happened to you?” She didn’t waste time.
His brow crinkled. “What do you mean?”
“What really happened during the rotation Ryker and I were caught and you were supposed to be guarding his back?”
This time he stiffened, but his smile remained in place—as wide and affable as before. “Wow. Ryker suggested you were a firecracker, but there’s no need for the third degree.” He winked at Hope, still firmly perched on Jade’s hip, before meeting her gaze once more. Classic deflection. “We’re on the same side.”
She didn’t budge.
“I told Ryker already.” Irritation snuck into Grif’s tone.
“Yes, you told him something. But I don’t think it was the full truth.”
There was a long pause. Jade’s arm hair stood on end, the sudden aggression pouring off the man impossible to miss. Hope, wiser than her years, also reacted. Her thin arms squeezing tight around Jade’s neck.
Interesting. Beneath the good Samaritan charm was another side to Grif altogether.
Her eyes locked with his—and in that moment she caught a glimpse of what truly lurked beneath the surface of the man standing before her. Pain, guilt, horror, regret. And longing. So much longing. For what she couldn’t say, but the sensations surged within him, clawing him apart from the inside out.
She sucked down a breath. What the hell had happened to him?
Before she could even formulate the words, his gaze shuddered and the curtain slammed down, his familiar handsome grin slipping into place.
“Such dramatics,” he teased, “but unnecessary. I’m one of the good guys here. I promise.”
Maybe, but she’d be keeping a close watch, just in case.
“You don’t want to tell me,” she observed, hefting Hope higher onto her hip. “I can live with that. But if I discover you’re a threat in any way to Ryker or the others, I’ll take you out. Without a moment’s hesitation.”
Instead of anger, relief filled the man’s gaze. “I’ll count on that.”
Then, he was gone. Slipping back into the middle of the line, aiding the person in front of him even though he could barely stand upright himself. Charming as ever. A hero. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Her unease grew.
“What’s wrong with Grif?’” The little girl’s voice barely rose above the roaring wind.
It was a good question.
26
The familiar cliffs were just in sight when Jade felt a tingle at the back of her neck. Shifting a sleeping Hope in his arms, she scanned behind.
Nothing.
The return to the cave was proving slow and draining—and unwelcome worries had plagued her every step. About Ryker. Grif. The girls. Rafi. How they would all survive once she departed.
It had been far simpler for her peace of mind when there was only herself to consider.
Her gut twitched once more.
She rescanned the area. Dark purple, swirling clouds of dust and debris made it difficult to see much. But she’d always trusted herself.
“Tyson,” squeezing the shoulder of the man in front of her, she passed a message toward the front, “inform the others and Ryker to be alert, I—”
A streak of orange, just over the man’s shoulder, caught her eye. “Look out!” She threw herself forward, slamming into Tyson and taking him and his daughter down in a tangled heap. Hope gave a frightened cry. The man who’d been in line in front of Tyson crumpled to the ground, the sickly smell of burning flesh saturating the air.
Fury stabbed through her. An early death was something she’d accepted for herself. But not for anyone under her care, damn it.
She couldn’t see Ryker or the others.
“We’re under attack. Seek cover.” Cradling Hope beneath her, she crawled backward, skittering behind a cluster of low rocks. Tyson was right behind.
A loud whir—as if a weapon had tried to fire and then jammed.
She gave thanks for the dust and its clogging abilities. Until a rock exploded a palm’s length from where they’d been.
Some of the weapons were clearly still operational.
“Jade!” Ryker’s familiar husky voice had never been more welcome. It bounced off the rocks and echoed through her chest. Thank Janus. Thank Janus.
“I’m fine,” she shouted back. “Hope and Tyson are, too. But we lost one.” Grief welled for the unknown man who’d endured so much only to die within steps of safety.
“I have Melody,” Ryker answered. “We’re okay.”
Tyson sobbed with relief. But where was Grif? The others? She forced herself to focus.
Wriggling upright until her back was pressed against the tallest of the rocks, she passed Hope off to her father, took a breath, and popped up to assess the shooter’s location.
Only to have her head shoved down by a heavy hand. “Stay down.”
Ryker dropped beside her, Melody clutched tight to his chest. Knuckles white, the girl didn’t even lift her head from where she’d burrowed into his neck.
Jade totally understood. “The others?”
“I left three tucked behind an outcropping with Grif. Two are down.” Meaning dead, though he likely hadn’t wanted to be so direct around the girls.
“You should return to them. Take the girls and Tyson. I will deal with the shooters.”
“I’m staying with you.”
She opened her mouth to argue.
He cut her off. “This is more than a temporary
alliance, Jade. That’s part of what I should have said before.” He cleared his throat. “You know what else, Jade? I’m so fucking glad it was you in that cell with me. Never believe otherwise.” Warm, amber eyes found hers. “What’s between us isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.”
Her chest cracked wide.
“Identify yourself.” The shooter’s demand bounced off the surrounding cliffs.
She and Ryker exchanged a look. Tyson hushed a whimpering Hope.
“Identify yourselves first,” roared Ryker. “I’m supposed to be moving these slaves to their new pen for weapon testing,” he bluffed. “Who the hell are you?”
A momentary pause. As if whoever was on the other side of those laser guns was digesting what they’d heard.
“We were sent by 223 to check on two prisoners left in one of the cells.” Suspicion shaded the man’s voice. “Instead of two corpses, we found the hold wrecked—and empty.”
She gripped her knife handle tighter.
“I know nothing about that.” Ryker shot her a look. “I’m in charge of bringing 223 a large group of slaves. Not two measly prisoners.”
She shrugged back. There was no way to know if his story would be believed. He’d been smart to weave in truths, using the story of the girls’ mother and the others taken to bolster his explanation, but for all they knew that caravan had already made it to 223 and his hideout.
“Stand up. Hands where we can see them.” Some sort of decision had been made. “If we see even a twitch, you’ll be dead.”
Ryker turned to pass Melody to her father, but the small girl gripped him tight. “No. I want to stay with you.”
The naked look of anguish on his face stole Jade’s breath.
“He’ll be back,” she whispered to the little girl. “I’ll make sure of it. I promise.” She tucked her blade into the holster at her back.
With a sob, Melody let go, tumbling into her father’s arms.
“What about Grif?” The man was an unknown commodity to her.