by Lisa Henry
Doc regarded me silently for a moment, then slid his top drawer open. He pulled out a syringe, ripped the packaging open, and set it on his desk.
Cam sighed.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Give me your arm, Brady,” Doc said.
I glanced at Cam but held my arm out.
Doc pressed on the inside of my elbow to get a vein, then slid the needle in. He pulled back on the plunger, and my blood was drawn slowly into the barrel. I swayed a little against the sensation. I’d never known if it was something I could really feel, or something my imagination supplied for me: that sensation of a syringe working against my own heart, tugging against it, making me a little dizzy.
Doc withdrew the needle and pressed a cotton pad against the tiny wound in the crook of my elbow. I put my thumb over it. Clenched my fist and then flexed my fingers. “What’d you need that for, Doc?”
Doc huffed. “You think I’d send you off into the black with the goddamn Faceless without any fucking supervision? I like you, you little shit.”
He jabbed the syringe into his own arm and pressed the plunger down.
“Holy fuck,” I said. “Doc! Holy fuck!”
“Guess you’re stuck with me now, son,” Doc growled.
I laughed so hard I cried, or the other way around.
Or something.
* * * *
Some guys are meant to be heroes. I was never one of them. And maybe those guys wouldn’t have balked when the time came to step onto the Faceless ship for the last time in fuck only knows how long, but I did. I’d spent the past two days carrying shit on board, but now, this time, it was for real. This time the hull would seal behind us, and there’d be no going back.
Jesus.
What the fuck was I doing?
I watched as Doc walked on ahead, still grizzling at Harry for dropping his equipment on the last trip.
“I outrank you,” he muttered.
Harry only shrugged. “Rank counts for shit once the connection takes, Doc.”
True.
Andre moved past me, lugging another goddamn bag of whatever the hell the brass had decided we might need.
Chris clapped me on the shoulder as he reached me. “You good, Brady?”
I nodded, but of course he felt my trepidation.
“Brady?”
“Oh yeah,” I drawled. “I’m good. What could be better than spending the next however long trapped on a ship with my boyfriend’s ex?”
“Asshole,” Chris said, but it was almost fond. He rubbed his biceps, raising the ghost of his injury even though I knew it was gone. An hour in a Faceless pod had healed him.
I shrugged. “Hey, at least one of us will be getting laid, right?”
“Asshole,” he said again, a lot less fond this time. He shouldered past me.
I grinned at him and waited until he’d turned around to flip him the bird.
“Little fucking turd.”
My dad always said eavesdroppers never heard good things about themselves. The sooner Kai-Ren sorted our connection out, the better.
“Brady!”
I spun around to see Lucy rushing toward me. She flung herself into my arms and then pulled back and spun in a circle. “Do you like my clothes?”
Someone from the Q-Store had supplied her with a bunch of clothes made out of cut-down uniforms since she’d lost all her stuff during the mutiny. Shirts and pants mostly, but also a few gray pinafores with brass buttons to do up the tabs. She also had a few pairs of boots, in the smallest size the Q-Store carried, which meant she had to jam rolled-up socks in the toes to make them fit properly. Even the smallest sixteen-year-old recruits were giants compared to Lucy, but we didn’t know how long we’d be out here. We didn’t know if she’d outgrow her sneakers.
“You look great,” I told her. “Did they give you a gun too?”
“Don’t be silly!” She smacked me. “I’m going to make sure my bunk is above yours!”
The Faceless had hummed with interest when we’d moved bunks aboard. I didn’t know how they slept yet, or if they actually did. Guess I’d find out.
I watched her as a Faceless met her in the strange glowing corridor of their ship. Kai-Ren. He glanced at me and then reached out and touched Lucy’s head. She hugged him, and her warmth radiated though him, through me, though all of us.
She was safe with him.
Safe with the thing that had been my nightmare since I was a kid.
Fucking crazy.
“Yeah,” Cam said, his arms coming around me from behind. “You are.”
“Fuck you,” I said. “I’ve told you before, I remain undiagnosed.”
I turned around in his embrace.
Stared at his green eyes for the last time under the lights of Defender Three.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
I drew a breath.
I had no idea what the fuck was out there waiting for us, but how was that different from any other time in my life?
I was terrified.
Terrified, but I had Lucy, and I had Cam.
Some guys were meant to be heroes. I was never one of them, but fuck it, I could learn.
“Yeah,” I said, taking his hand. “I’m ready.”
Ready for whatever came next, as long as he was by my side.
Always.
We walked together onto the Faceless ship.
* * * *
Also by Lisa Henry
The California Dashwoods
Two Man Station (Emergency Services #1)
Adulting 101
Sweetwater
He Is Worthy
The Island
Tribute
One Perfect Night
Fallout, with M. Caspian
Dark Space (Dark Space #1)
Darker Space (Dark Space #2)
Playing the Fool series, with J.A. Rock
The Two Gentlemen of Altona
The Merchant of Death
Tempest
With Heidi Belleau
Tin Man
Bliss
King of Dublin
The Harder They Fall
With J.A. Rock
When All the World Sleeps
Another Man’s Treasure
Mark Cooper versus America (Prescott College #1)
Brandon Mills versus the V-Card (Prescott College #2)
The Good Boy (The Boy #1)
The Naughty Boy (The Boy #1.5)
The Boy Who Belonged (The Boy #2)
Fall On Your Knees
Writing as Cari Waites
Stealing Innocents
About the Author
Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters.
Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn't know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she’s too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape.
She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly.
She shares her house with too many cats, a green tree frog that swims in the toilet, and as many possums as can break in every night. This is not how she imagined life as a grown-up.
You can email her at [email protected]
Or check out her website at lisahenryonline.com
Got Twitter? Follow her at twitter.com/LisaHenryOnline
Hanging out on Goodreads? So am I: Lisa Henry
Facebook: facebook.com/lisa.henry.1441
grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share