by Shelly Crane
“Maxton Elwell Beauregard. My dad wanted us to have Earth names.” He shook his head, a little barely-there smile playing on his lips. “But, yes, Maxton Q1 is my name here.”
I thought about that. I would have bet his dad was the awesome kind, like my dad. And then as I looked as him, I wondered out loud, “You’re in here, on the floor, instead of the comfy bed that’s in the other room?”
His eyes took in everything, and right then they seemed to be taking in my very soul as they peered deep into my gray eyes that I’d always wondered if I got from my father…because I couldn’t remember if his eyes were gray. And my blue-eyed mother was no longer around to ask.
“You just have to look at the situation and say to yourself Is the sacrifice worth the risk? Or the reward?” His eyes never left mine through his confession, if it even was that, though that’s exactly what it sounded like—he was confessing.
“Is it?” I whispered.
He swallowed, the gulp of his throat so…erotic, I could barely sit still. “Hell yes.” My eyes widened, but no alarms went off. He grinned. “There are no techs in here, remember? No monitors, no sensors.” His grin went wider. “Go ahead, give it a go. A free shot. I know you’ve always wanted to curse and never been able to. It’s freeing, really.”
There was only one thing that came to mind. “Go to hell, you bastard. You piece of disgusting idiot trash that thinks he owns the universe. Scumwad, you’re nothing. You… shady asshat, sexist pisshead, you belittling bunghole, you jerky jerkface, you menace to society. You’ll never be more than what you are, and that thought must terrify you. Dungface.”
He probably thought I wasn’t going to do it, or was going to half-heartedly decline, but no. I’d wanted to curse Rivers out every day of half of my life and was never able to. He may not be able to hear me, but those words were for him.
But Maxton surprised me by smiling in that knowing way. “I only wish your proprietor was here to hear you say that to him. His face alone I would pay silver to see.” I found myself smiling, too, imagining Rivers’ flustered behind, falling off his hurtle boots as I called him every name in the book for free. He would have been pissed about that alone. Then Maxton scrunched his nose and scratched his shadowed jaw. “Bunghole?”
We both laughed, trying to be quiet. I shrugged as best as I could for someone being spooned by another female. “I don’t know any curses. Or insults. Or slang either.”
“You did great.”
He leaned his elbow on the bed opposite mine, placing his head on his palm to mirror my pose. He had taken his jacket off so his black bird tattoo was facing me, flying toward me as he tried to run away but got nowhere. I often stared at his bird when I got the chance, which wasn’t often because he was almost always wearing his jacket. But when the rare opportunity presented itself, I felt like the bird and I were connected.
Family.
I could relate.
I, too, felt like I was trying to get somewhere fast, but not moving at all, and at the same time like I was stuck in the same place, but like I should be somewhere else, somewhere important. His tattoo was beautiful and epic and told a story in just one look.
All my favorite things.
Maxton and I faced each other that way, both on our elbows, a foot apart but worlds separated us. I tried to remember that as I felt myself going soft. I’d never been soft, and soft would get you killed. Maxton made me soft. He must have seen the change come over me as we stared at each other because he moved his free hand up to play with the ends of my hair, drawing me back into his snare, not letting me get too far gone. Did he know what he was doing to me?
“It’s so weird,” he murmured, seemingly to himself, “how you never know that you like something until one day…bam,” he whispered that one word so softly, so slowly, as if he knew that doing so would make it so much more powerful than screaming it would have.
“What is it you’re all of a sudden in love with?”
I cursed myself for using that word—love.
“Red,” he said, his voice low and graveled. “I’ve realized how much I love red,” he practically growled.
Before I could respond—Ha! Like that was happening anytime soon—he let the ends of my hair go and leaned back. “I’ll let you go back to sleep. Tomorrow, we go back to roughing it.”
He got up, but the rustling of movement stopped at the edge of the room. “You’re still here?” I asked.
“I’ll sleep here; already got my bed made and ready to go. Besides,” his voice changed a little, letting me know he was nervous or worried about this next part, “you talk a little in your sleep.”
I gasped, sucking in a small breath in disbelief. “Oh, no. What did I say?”
“Nothing bad, nothing embarrassing. Trust me. It’s just…there were a couple times you seemed scared, you shook, you…asked me—well, you asked someone not to leave you.” I felt my face heat as my eyes widened. He scoffed softly. “Now that I think about it, it wasn’t me at all, was it? It was your mother,” he said in sympathy, not an ounce of jealousy in his tone.
“I…sorry.”
“Soph,” he whispered and then said harder, “don’t ever apologize for wanting her here.” He sighed in the dark. I imagined that he was leaning his head back against the wall. “All my bony skeletons are falling out of the closet. You know that I have a secret family, and that I had to keep the girl I loved at home safe.” He made sure to emphasize it, referencing back to our conversation at the ship before. I got it and smiled as he said, “My mum.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “But there was also another girl, once.” He didn’t pause for long. He wasn’t trying to build the tension; he was collecting his voice. “My sister. My real sister.”
He waited and I could do nothing but sit there with bated breath and open eyes, just like he wanted me, I was sure. “Go on,” I urged quietly. “I remember you mentioning her before.”
“I’ve never told anyone about her.”
I felt my guts take a dive. “I’d be honored.” I couldn’t see his face and that was so nerve-shattering. “But you don’t have—”
“She was older than me.” I shut my mouth so quick. “By a good bit. Thirteen years older. I’m the baby. Her name was Rowell and she disappeared when I was five. They think she pissed off the wrong people and the Militia shut her up. She was my father’s daughter.” He scoffed a laugh. “They were always off on some tangent about the government and secret plans they had for us, but I was too young to know what was truly going on. After Dad died, she got so much worse, sneaking off, coming in late. I remember her and Mum fighting a lot. I’d sneak into Marshall’s room and hide with him under the covers. Even though he couldn’t talk, I felt so safe with him. Because I knew he was trying, even if he wasn’t speaking, to make me feel better.”
“What happened to your dad?” I whispered after he was quiet for a while.
“He died in the mines.”
Oh, no. I puffed a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“So you see—I understand you better than you think.”
I wished I could see his face. I licked my lips once, twice, and then bit into my bottom lip to keep from doing it again. It could have been my imagination when I heard a faint groany-growl come from the dark corner. I felt heat crawl up my neck and into my hairline, but tried to ignore it.
I felt awful in that moment. Absolutely dreadful. He did understand because we had both experienced loss. Too much loss. Too much loss for once person to have survived yet we did it because we were forced to.
“So, what? Are we supposed to wrap ourselves in pillows when we go anywhere or, better yet, just never leave the house? Are we supposed to never love? Never let anyone in because we may lose them and it’s not worth the risk? Is that what our families that we’ve lost have taught us?” I nodded, leaning up on my elbow, not listening to Belle’s complaint behind me as her arm slid off me and she rolled over. “That’s the lesson, isn’t it? Don’t love, don’t risk, don
’t let them in.” I shook my head violently, stuck in my reverie.
“No,” he said, his voice hard and gravelly.
“What?” I said, surprised by his answer. I had expected him to join me in my anti-risk pursuit.
“No, that’s not what our families taught us by their deaths. If anything, it’s the opposite.”
“How can you say that?” I opened my mouth to say more, but it got stuck in my throat, choking me.
“My dad used to always say something to us, which is why I think he would never want me to close myself off. He used to say that life would be a big, awesome journey or it would be nothing at all. Live like you’re made of stone or like you’re made of glass, but pick one. Have what you want, go after them, but want the things you’ve got. Bet with the whole pot or walk away with a smile. Don’t ever regret as you look back. And always tell the truth because you can’t ever run faster than a lie.”
I held my breath like I was afraid to breathe, or that by breathing it would take away from the moment, and I certainly wanted his father to have his moment. But before I could speak again he was shifting. “Maxton…your father sounds amazing.”
“He was.” I could hear his breaths before a small chuckle. “Man, he would have adored meeting you.” I looked down before lying back down on the bed. What could I possibly say to that?
“Goodnight, Maxton,” I whispered.
“Fy melys, goodnight,” he said softly back.
**
It was strange to be in women’s clothing. I’d never worn them before, but they actually fit my body. Though Belle was taller than I was, we were just about the same size, and the clothes she’d given me fit nicely. Snug even. But not an it-doesn’t-fit kind of snug, more like an it-fits-perfect kind of snug.
I stuffed everything else into my bag and was zipping it up when Maxton came into the room. “Oh…” He looked truly shocked, and turned to show me his back. “I am so sorry. I thought you were in the other room. Please forgive me,” I heard him say softly.
“It’s okay,” I muttered.
“No, it isn’t,” he said back harshly. “What if you had been changing your clothes? You didn’t give me that right. I would have been taking it. Just like your proprietor, just like those guards.” He swallowed. “I won’t be like every other male in your life, Sophelia.” My heart nearly stopped and I felt hot all over. I realized I was swooning. “I won’t just take things from you if you haven’t given them to me.”
I gulped. Oh, no. He had to stop. I had to harden myself against him right now. I could feel myself getting even softer, mush, cookie dough, or what I imagined cookie dough to be anyway. I couldn’t have that. I had to be a stone. I couldn’t afford to be soft for him or anyone else. No more games.
This man had to stop trying to make me fall in love with him.
Chapter Ten
com·mu·nism - a political system advocating class conflict and leading to a society in which all property is publicly owned and each person works and is given only what they need.
Maxton
Hot damn.
That was what I’d wanted to say, but instead I had apologized. They couldn’t stop me from cursing in my mind, and looking at her now, looking so clean and fragile and…female—I gulped to keep from saying any of that out loud to her for fear that she would kick my behind from here all the back to Havard’s ship.
Even though those had been Belle’s clothes, I didn’t remember her ever looking that…female…in them. Was that pigheaded of me? Curvaceous? Luscious? Scrumptious. Delicious? Any other words that ended with –ous that I could throw out to insult her but that completely described the way she looked in those pants right then.
Voluptuous. Found another one. I was sure I could find more.
For such a thin thing, she could sure pull off some curve in the right clothing. Want to see how long I can keep going and talk about her curves?
All right, all right. Focus.
I looked at her over my shoulder. She looked mildly amused, but highly affected by me. Oh, I could use this.
I turned back to face her and cleared my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“You said that,” she said and pushed past me, bowling me over with surprise.
What the hell just happened?
I followed her out to where she was hugging and thanking Belle. Mum was watching me like a hawk. She saw and knew everything, and when she saw me following and watching Soph, I knew she knew something was up, but I tried to act like it wasn’t. It wasn’t until she raised an eyebrow and yanked her head to the side, beckoning me to her, that I knew I had fooled no one.
I leaned down to be at her level, getting down on my haunches, and sighed. “I’m going to miss you, Mumma. I love to come—”
She butted in, saying, “You need to be careful, Maxton.”
“I will.”
“No.” She shook her head hard and screwed up her lips. “Well, yes, be careful out there, but you need to worry about her, son. Be careful. Be cautious and ever watchful. I see the way you look at her.”
Yup, getting nothing by her. “I know.”
“And I see the way she runs from you.”
“Dang, Mum, don’t hold back.” She cracked a small smile, but it bled away too quickly. “Be careful.”
“I will. I’ll make sure I won’t get my heart obliterated,” I joked, but when I saw her face, I knew I had it all wrong.
She shook her head slowly. “No, not for you, my son. For her.” I squinted in confusion. “Don’t break that poor girl. Don’t hurt her.”
“Mum,” I whispered, hurt that she would even think that I would.
“That girl only has one more love left in her.”
I looked over my shoulder at her. I sighed, closing my eyes for just a second before looking back at Mum. Sophelia’s light barely flickered at times and shined bright at others. Mumma was right—she probably did only have one more left in her. Could I be that one? Could I take that spot knowing she wouldn’t have room for anyone else?
“Why do you think I’ll hurt her, Mum?” I had to ask.
She smiled a real smile. “I don’t think you’ll hurt her, not on purpose. Oh, baby, that’s not what I meant at all.” I released the breath I was holding. “What I meant was…tell her. Either way, you have to tell her, baby. She’s not the kind you play games with or even take a whole lot of time with because she’s already broken.”
“Funny,” I said, but didn’t smile, “I had thought you didn’t really like her, that you didn’t want me to like her.”
“I can only hope that you’ll make the right decision.”
I stared at her. “You think the right decision is letting her go?”
“Maxton, you best be going. Ivan will be waiting for you.”
I sighed loudly and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mum, vague as ever and just as beautiful.”
“Pish posh.”
I grinned. “Why don’t you and Ivan just get wedded already? You know you want to.”
She gasped and I moved swiftly out of slap range.
“Bye, Mum,” I yelled over my shoulder as she yelled and sputtered behind me. “See you in a few months!”
Sophelia watched the display and laughed a little. “Is everything all right?” she said, adding a small nervous laugh to her words.
“Everything’s great,” I replied, a spring to my step and my words all growly. She noticed and looked up at me, her mouth open just slightly.
Oh, great. The rest of this trip was going to be nothing but torture, wasn’t it?
I hugged everyone and they all said their goodbyes to Sophelia, saying how they hoped they would see her again soon. Her face, surprised, sad, happy, a myriad of emotions as she walked away from my family, gave me hope for this girl. Ivan was there to open the door for us. I hopped down and then tried to help Sophelia down, but she said she wanted to do it on her own. I lifted my hands in surrender and went into Ivan’s store to get a few things. He ran a communicati
on gadget store, so whenever I came in he told me to grab whatever I needed in the way of handhelds and things of that nature. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really help me much since all the people I needed to talk to were right here, but sometimes it helped to be able to trade for things with them.
When I came around the corner after my plundering Sophelia was talking to Ivan. He looked at me over her head.
“What does melys mean?” she asked him and waited. His face was a little cautious as he watched me. Or maybe surprised? “Or fy melys?” she tried, thinking she was getting it wrong.
He finally said, “Where did you hear those words?”
“Maxton calls me that sometimes. I was just curious…what it meant.” She looked down at her boots. “I wanted to see if I was right since Maxton said he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell you?”
“He said I wouldn’t like the answer.”
Ivan chuckled, leaning over a bit. “Oh, my Maxton boy.” He looked away from me and regarded her again, his gentle eyes not fooling anybody, as I’m sure they weren’t fooling Soph. He had always been a calculating man. “What do you think it means?”
“I was a slave when Maxton found me. I escaped, that’s why the reward is out for me so…” She shrugged, rubbing her chin on her shoulder in an awkward move that wasn’t like her. “I assumed it was a nice way of saying—”
“Why do you think he would call you that?”
I blinked. She thought I would have called her a slave in some other language just so I could say it without her realizing it?
She shrugged. “Because it’s what I am. It’s what I’ve been called for over half my life. Why wouldn’t he call me that?”
He cringed, but recovered and gave her a level stare, all bunched eyebrows, a flat mouth, and unreadable eyes with a small, tilted smile. He didn’t look at me again. “Sophelia, I know Maxton. He wouldn’t have risked himself or his job for just anyone. He had too much at stake.” I felt my chest buckle a little under his words and begged him to stop. Was he disappointed in me? “And you’re not a slave anymore. You haven’t been a slave since you ran, and you never will be again, I suspect.” He took a deep breath, and so did I. “Take care of Maxton for me out there?” She nodded and I balked that she agreed so readily. “He’s always been the one to take care of us, and it would be nice to know that he wasn’t—” He smiled, glanced at me and winked. “Fy melys means…my sweet.”