by Shelly Crane
“We saw your broadcast,” Maxton told her as we came to a stop. I looked to see if there was anyone around. “We might be able to help you. We saw the redhead.”
“Did you now?” she asked, all business and ready to do anything for information. “Are we negotiating or forking over the information?” When Maxton stayed silent she sighed with a smile. “You want to be on the screens, don’t you, stud? All right. But you better have some good information.”
He went to her side as she got everything back out and ready to go. As soon as she put the glasses back on her face, Maxton got behind her and stuck something against her back. She gasped.
“Wait,” he barked. He looked at me and my wide, questioning eyes. “Take off the face scrambler.”
What was he doing? He wanted everyone to see me? He wanted…everyone to see me, I realized.
I gulped once, putting on my brave face, and pressed the button near my collar bone that released the face shield’s screen. When she saw it was me, she gasped. “Oh, please don’t kill me!”
“Turn on your camera,” he said gruffly near her head, but he wasn’t hurting her, though she was making out like she was being beaten with a sock full of rocks.
She whimpered louder as her shaky hand pressed the button on her glasses. He whispered something in her ear and she stopped whimpering as she began, “Um…” her voice shook, making it obvious to anyone watching that something was wrong, but it didn’t matter because my face was on the screen, “did you murder those men on the ship, at the docks?”
I shook my head. “No. I haven’t murdered anyone.”
“Did you steal silver and—”
“No,” I said harder, knowing exactly what Maxton was doing and why he had done this. I could have kissed him right there. “No. I was a slave because of taxes. I ran. I thought ten years was long enough to pay my debt. I stowed away on a ship and…” I met Maxton’s eyes. His jaw was clenched, his eyes squeezed shut for a second as he remembered the same thing I did. “No, I didn’t steal anything from Havard. In fact, he was about to steal something from me; the only thing I have left that’s mine, the only thing I’ve managed to keep safe.”
The reporter gasped, covering her mouth. For the first time, probably ever, I saw sympathy from someone in a higher rank than me. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I felt like I was on trial and this may be the only time I’d ever get to state my plea.
“Havard tried to stop me and one of his crew members from leaving. They struggled. That’s all. Just for helping me, they took all of his silver, all his savings that he had to pay their taxes, to try to save his family who’s been through enough.” I found myself fighting tears and was surprised to find myself even more worked up about Maxton’s struggle and heartbreak than my own. “We all have. If that’s what I’m guilty of, then so be it.”
Maxton told her something else and she panned the camera down my body and back up. “You’re a small thing, Sophelia,” she observed. “Though it’s what was reported previously, I have a hard time believing you carried five heavy bags of anything, let alone killed two men. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Did you have help?”
“All of those men were alive when we left. They hadn’t done anything to me. They were just doing their job.”
“How did—”
Maxton snatched the glasses off her head and turned them off. “Time to go.” He tossed them back to her. “Nice stalling tactic, by the way.”
“I wasn’t. I actually really just want to talk to—”
Maxton grabbed my hand just as I was reaching for his, and the four of us bolted for the first shadows we could find. And we kept running, knowing the Militia would be crawling over that area in minutes, looking for us.
We ran, keeping to the back of the buildings.
Roddy was breathing heavy as we stopped for a moment to take in where we were and where we needed to run next. He looked at me and then at Maxton with a scowl. “You’re nuts, man! Like…pistachios!”
Maxton sighed but didn’t say a word. Maybe he agreed with him, but he put his arm around my back and led me along the way to the alley.
I’d never been to this part of the planet before. The only differences about it were the red specks in the granite. It made it seem like you were walking on rubies when the moon hit it just right.
We could hear the music begin to play over the loud speakers in the distance. It sounded even eerier this far off.
Mostly the only people we saw were shop owners closing up. They didn’t say anything to us so we returned the favor. When curfew hit, things got dicey. Should we keep to the shadows and carry on or bunker down for the night and hope they don’t catch up to us?
We barely had any supplies left, so in the morning we had to go into the shops, no matter what.
The twin’s whining won out and we stopped. Plus, Maxton said it drew too much attention for people to be out after curfew. So we climbed yet another ladder to the roof and settled in near the solar panels, tying off our bags on the hooks we found.
So we once again found ourselves lying on a roof. I thought the twins would beg me to read to them again, but they conked out faster than expected. All the excitement of the day was too much for Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. I wondered briefly if they’d ever been chased by the Militia before.
But then I felt a warm palm touch my ankle. I looked down at Maxton’s head near my feet. We seemed to have adopted this style, this routine, this…barrier. It worked for us.
“Soph,” he whispered, only the moonlight to show me the look on his face. He looked thoughtful. He looked upset, his brows drawn together, his lips tight. I sat up and he did the same, so our bent knees were almost overlapping each other we were so close. “What I did today, I wasn’t trying to—”
No. He was misinterpreting today all wrong.
I grabbed his collar with both hands and yanked him to me. Our mouths slammed against each other, making me remember our last kiss and how I felt like I would float off the planet if it wasn’t for him holding me to the ground. I had wondered if first, second, and third kisses would be the same or all different. Do kisses die out like a glowing ember that was once a roaring fire? Does our passion do the same? Every time we kiss someone, do we become a little bit more in love or fall a little bit more into complacency? I didn’t know the answer to those questions; all I could say was that for this, right now, and this boy—he was a roaring fire and there would be no complacency.
His sure, confident palm settled on my lower back and he pulled me closer to him gently. He turned his head so he could go a little deeper and I found myself shivering in his arms at the way his touch and tongue and gentleness seared through me in ways that I’d never known I could be seared.
And then I realized I wasn’t the only one. He sighed against my lips and I understood he was glad. He thought I was angry at him for the reporter, that I would be upset about what he’d done and think it was a stunt instead of the amazing thing it was. He had shown the world that everything Havard was saying about me was absolute zelephant dung. He risked himself just to save me, just to make the world see the truth. I pulled away from those amazing lips and looked up at him, my fingers still gripping his collar.
“How could you think I would be upset about today? What you did for me—”
“I threw you in front of the world’s eye with no warning.”
“You saved me.”
I sat up on my knees and he came up with me.
“They’re still going to condemn you,” he said as if that statement caused him agony, tugging me against him with his hands on the backs on my hips. I’d never been touched in this way before so it was so intoxicating, like a drug, like what I imagined a drug would feel like. I felt my eyes begin to flutter a little, like the beginnings of sleep claiming me, but I was far from being sleepy. I was heavy, like a blanket of heat and happy had settled over me.
He groaned—a sound that I knew I
would dream about—and pressed his face into my neck, crushing me to him. “For the love of God, Soph. You have to stop.”
“Stop?” I questioned. If he asked me my full name right now I wasn’t sure I could give him the right answer. Feeling his breaths against my neck wasn’t helping the situation.
“That look on your face will star in my dreams for the rest of my life.”
I gasped, barely. Hadn’t I just thought that? He sat up, his eyes going straight to my lips. One of his hands relinquished me, his thumb coming up to trace my bottom lip. His hand cupped my chin as his thumb made a slow path from left to right and back again. I felt my eyes closing completely and my breath going mental.
“There’s that face again,” he whispered, making my eyes snap open. “You’ve been sent here to assassinate me. Kill me where I stand. That’s it, isn’t it?”
I tugged him closer, his eyes going a little wider no matter how in control he tried to pretend he was. That one hand that was on my hip tightened, and I almost lost my mind.
“Yes,” I whispered back. “I’ve been sent here to assassinate you.”
His breathing was just as ragged as mine, no matter how cool he tried to play it. “Mission accomplished, Soph.”
“How could you think that I would assume you were doing the less than honorable thing today?” I whispered close to his cheek. I felt like I had to keep whispering, keep the game going.
“I just…” he tried in a whisper, shaking his head. He wouldn’t even look at me. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Be what you need me to be.” His eyes finally met mine and I jolted back from the voltage in that gaze, but his arm held me to him tightly, not letting me get away. There was a tempest brewing in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I would survive if I stayed in his gaze too long. But he told me with his sure hold that I could trust him and not to run before he’d given me a chance to show me what it was like to ride out the storm.
He let his hand on my hip go a little higher, pulling me into his chest and hips. We touched everywhere. I’d never been touched by another human being everywhere. It was…erotically, innocently the best thing that I had ever experienced. Fact or fiction, past or present, this kiss rewrote history.
“We talked about this,” he said and brushed his thumb over the hump of my lips again and then he let it settle on my jaw. “You may be all I have on this planet now, which is a coincidence because it just so happens that I don’t want to be with anyone else. So, fy melys, don’t ever be afraid of me.”
“Never,” I whispered back. “I’m not afraid. I’m…” I felt a sob creeping up my throat. I’d never been one for crying and hated that feeling. I turned my face, closing my eyes, and felt him turn me back to face him.
“Don’t hide from me. I’m right here.”
“I don’t want anyone to see me—”
“I’m not anyone anymore.” He swallowed loudly. “Am I?” he said low in his throat.
I realized what he meant and knew what he was saying was true. I shook my head violently in his grasp. “No,” I whispered so quietly it was barely heard.
He took my head in his hands and pressed his forehead to mine, breathing deeply.
“You are the strongest person I know. You are the picture of what a leader should embody. How you’ve been forced to live your life and come out on the other side of it with all the pieces intact is the real miracle here. Soph, you’re an angel, a goddess, and a hero, and that’s just the first three words I could think of to describe you—that’s not even scratching the surface of the truth.” His head lifted slightly, his thumbs making another sweep across my cheeks. “You’re everything bright in this world for me, Soph. When you look away, it’s like someone turned out the lights.”
I couldn’t even gasp; it was stuck in my throat, stuck in my body and in my heart.
He continued in a whisper, “So no more hiding, especially not from me. You can’t get away with it anymore. Your light is too bright.”
How could he really think that? How was it possible to think those things about a slave? I was nobody, I was nothing…
“I can see your wheels spinning in that head.” He leaned down in my space, his lips but a breath away. “No, Soph. Stop doing this. You’re not a slave anymore. You are more than you think you are. And you are your own worst enemy.”
I cupped his head and neck with both hands. “You can’t be real...”
I brought him to me once more. I knew he wouldn’t refuse me, and he did not. In fact, he dove in deep, breathing me in like the very oxygen that was so vital to our lungs. His hands were winding, slowly making their way from my face back down my body, where he used his grip to haul me to him once more.
Even though we’d been here before, it felt all new. I felt all new. I gasped into his mouth as he claimed me, or maybe it was I who was claiming him.
He needed both arms to crush me to him, and crush me they did as they wrapped around me—all the way around in long, sweeping caresses as he bent me back and groaned as he felt my leg come up to meet his side. That groan rattled into me and shook my very soul.
He kept leaning me back until I felt the warm granite of the roof at my back as we lay side-by-side. I was a little shocked at his courageous move, to be honest, but Maxton was nothing if not courageous—trying his best to save me by taking a news show hostage, for five minutes, giving up everything, even his morals, for his family to make sure they were safe and happy and, most importantly, could pay their taxes, and the most courageous of all he was stealing my heart which, whether he knew it or not, was a giant feat. I had thought my heart was unstealable, and he made it look so easy, his courageousness leading the way, punching a hole straight through.
“Is this okay, So—”
I pulled him back to me before he could finish his whispered plea. His husky chuckle against my lips and the way his palm found that spot just above my knee and tugged my leg against him once more in record time told me he wasn’t all saint. He was so good at being both, but the rogue was definitely the one who was gripping my thigh as his lips assaulted me in the best way. He moved to my neck slowly, but not before giving me a look. I didn’t know if it was an is-this-ok look or a you-better-hang-on look but they both sufficed because when his lips touched the side of my neck for a kiss…
Just one.
“Ahh.” I had thought it was all in my head, but I heard it come from my lips as he leaned away. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t question it. He didn’t give me a look. He just came back to my lips and we began again, but this time from a new vantage point.
He was completely in control and that hand on my thigh was his own brand of a torture device. I couldn’t keep from sighing into his mouth and groaning as he kissed me and then I realized that our sighs and groans were mingling and that made my blood hum with happiness.
And I learned a few things about Maxton. Every time I took his bottom lip and pulled it, he would grip my thigh harder, pulling me toward him. And every time I ran my hands through the back of his hair and then tugged on the way down, he would make this noise in the back of his throat that made me feel so alive in the bottom of my stomach.
I felt like he was learning me, too, because he was doing all these things and then it was as if he could read my mind. I felt like I was dying in all the right ways as he kissed me on that rooftop. But then I realized it was just because he, too, was paying attention, learning me, wanting to know what made me ache in all the good ways. And that made me fall in love a little, I think. Whether it was with him or the kissing, I wasn’t sure.
I didn’t know males could be this way. I didn’t know it was possible.
He rolled to lean over me a little and I waited. I had waited for him to take this farther, too far, the whole time, but he hadn’t taken it farther than kissing—amazing deep, all-encompassing kissing—but never farther than his warm tugging grip on my thigh. I waited, but “too far” never came. And even now as he
leaned over me and kept up the amazing make-out, it still never came.
I laughed a little into our kiss, realizing that this had been his line, his barrier, the whole time.
He leaned back a little, his palm going to the rooftop next to my head. My leg was cold, missing his touch. “Something funny, melys?”
I sighed. “Are you ever going to tell me what that means?”
Though the old guy already told me, Maxton didn’t know that.
He smiled beautifully and didn’t slam his mouth back onto mine. No. He eased back into my space. He caressed me in every sense of the word. It didn’t escape my notice how both of us had avoided the question and I doubted it had Maxton’s either.
His tongue came after mine, a dance and a duel. It didn’t just sweep through my mouth to search for me, it claimed everything in its wake. He kissed the corner of my mouth and each lip like it deserved its own attention. He pushed inside, nibbling one second and gliding his tongue through the next.
His hands and his long fingers, the same—his hand found mine and he pressed it flat next to my head, lacing our fingers.
“Look,” we heard from the side, making us stop and snap our gazes to look toward the twins, who were on the other side of a solar panel. Fletch’s glare wasn’t set to stun. No, it was full on. He wanted to commit murder. “I’m all for family togetherness, but could Mommy and Daddy please, for the love of God, stop this heinous pre-coitus of a make-out session so I can get back to my nightmares of this night?”
It was Maxton who snickered first, but mine had been right on the tip of my tongue. We folded into each other, laughing into each other’s neck as we settled on our backs on the roof once more. When his breath hit my skin and his stubble rubbed against my cheek, I took comfort in it and let it soothe me as he pointed and whispered to me about the story of Orion chasing the seven sisters for seven years until Zeus turned them into birds and placed them among the stars. When Orion died, too, the chase was immortalized in the stars forever.
It was amazing to think of all the things that were going on in the stars and constellations above us. I wondered if the stars ever looked down on us and thought the very same thing.