by Mike Smith
Distracted by her thoughts and concern for the contents of the room, her concentration wavered for a moment and that hesitation proved to be her downfall. As having failed to check carefully, she took a step further into the room. She was a second too slow to register the motion of somebody behind her, when once again an arm slipped around her throat, the nauseous breath and smell once again causing her to gag, as she was pulled sharply back against the very man she had been pursuing. But this time it was different, just him and her, with nothing to stop her using all the advantages that she’d been born with. For some reason, the thought of picking up this man by the throat and choking the very life out of him, felt very appealing.
However, the man must have felt her start to tense and tutted under his breath. “None of that now,” he said at the same time raising his pistol, tapping the point of the barrel against her brow. “I saw what you did to poor Ewan and don’t need a replay. If I even so much as feel you start to move, I’ll blow your pretty head off and that would be such a waste…” He ran the barrel of the gun against her cheek, along the length of her throat, caressing her with the cold metal.
Jessica couldn’t help but flinch, dropping her pistol in the process, which just made him laugh even louder.
“Not so confident now are you?” he gloated. “I’m willing to bet that you’ll fetch a pretty penny in the whore markets, that’s if Greystone doesn’t cough-up the coin first. Somehow I think he’ll pay handsomely for your return, but first I’ll sample the wares as such.” He chuckled nastily as if finding the situation incredibly humorous.
Having overheard Mary and Alex talking, prior to his departure, Jessica wasn’t entirely certain that Alex could afford food, let alone her ransom, but thought it best not to share that little nugget of information. Instead she rolled her eyes at his blatantly suggestive and, equally absurd, threat.
“What is it with you men out here, on this washed up, backwards planet. So far I’ve been kidnapped, imprisoned and ransomed—and that’s just Lord Greystone. Soon I’m really going to lose my patience with the lot of you.”
“You Lords and Ladies, always looking down your nose at the rest of us, we’re nothing more than your slaves,” the man sneered. He tightened his grip on her throat, until she struggled for breath, seeing stars at the corner of her vision. “Well, you’re all nothing but talk,” he growled lowering the pistol further, until it reached her knee, before drawing it back up, along with the hem of her short nightgown, the only one that Mary could find. “Perhaps it’s now time to put your mouth to a better task,” he ogled suggestively.
Jessica was about to prise his hand from her throat, rip it off and then crush every last breath from his body, pistol or no pistol to her head, when suddenly there was a muffled cry from behind and the man slumped against her.
“He should take his own advice,” a voice drawled out, “and shut up. Told you I’d arrive, just at the right time—” Sheriff Abercrombie pronounced in such a voice, that Jessica knew without having to turn round he was smirking. “But I’m not going to help you clean up this mess. I’m the sheriff, not a housemaid, and I’m telling you now that Alex is going to be mad. You know what he said about no parties while he was away.”
Having not given a second thought to the damage to the house that she’d wrought in her pursuit of the thieves, her eyes opened wide in horror. The sheriff was right of course; Alex was going to be furious.
*****
Trudging wearily down the corridors of his home, Alex was absolutely livid. The entire trip had been a complete and utter waste of time. He hadn’t found any answers to the questions that he had sought and, furthermore, Rifkin had already spent every last credit of the advance that belonged to him.
Five million credits, in the span of a single week. Gone.
It beggared belief that one man could actually spend so much in such a short period of time. Yet, when he’d demanded to know where it had all gone, Rifkin had shrugged. “Booze, gambling, women. What else is there?”
At that point all restraint deserted him and he had shot him, point-blank, for the second time. What else could he have done? Unfortunately, his subconscious must have felt that he still owed Rifkin some sort of debt, for instead of vaporising him, much as he intended, it just knocked him unconscious, again. Alex had spent the next few minutes putting the boot in, literally, before leaving. At least the loathsome man would have a few sore ribs to remember him by.
So engrossed in his thoughts about the utter failure of the trip, he paid little attention to his surroundings and blinked in surprise upon arriving in his study. He had planned on numbing the pain of the past few days with a strong drink, but instead found himself far from alone, instead surrounded by almost a dozen people, some milling around righting overturned furniture, many tramping in and out, taking notes, others still photographing every square inch of the room.
Alex blinked. When had his private retreat turned into a complete circus?
Eyes narrowing dangerously, he could only think of one reason, or more specifically, one person. It was official he was going to kill her; she would have to be returned to her family in a closed casket. Looking around for his intended victim, he finally spotted her through the crowd, with her back to him, seated in her now usual spot next to the bay windows.
“Jessica!” he snapped, all thought of formal address and etiquette going out of the already open window. “What on Arcturus is going on here?”
Jessica meanwhile spun around, stumbling to her feet so quickly that Alex had to reach out to steady her in case she fell. Her face paled at the sight of him, eyes wide, darting first one way then the other, as if looking for an escape route. “I didn’t realise that you would be back so soon, look I can explain everything…” she faltered.
Whatever else she said was drowned out as she lifted her face, and the dawn rays illuminated the red mark on her face. It stood out glaringly against her otherwise pale cheeks. Mouth falling open in disbelief, Alex ran his eyes down from her face, fixing on her neck where a pair of livid bruises were clearly visible, consisting of a motley collection of colours; yellow, black and blue. With eyes still fastened on her injuries, he reached out a trembling finger touching her chin, angling her face further towards the light so he could see the extent of her injuries better.
“Who did this to you?” he barked, eyes blazing, teeth grinding from the incandescent rage that had abruptly taken hold of him.
“—What?” Jessica came to an abrupt halt, aware that he hadn’t heard a single word she had said.
“Who. Did. This? Where are they?” he demanded a second time, his voice pitched low.
“Oh, I see,” she blinked, surprised at the question. “Don’t concern yourself about them. The sheriff has them all under lock and key, in your reception room.”
“What reception room? I don’t have a reception room.”
“Oh, yes, well you do now,” Jessica replied with a forced smile. “It’s just off the main entrance hall, you used it as a storage closet, but it’s really a very beautiful room, as the morning sunlight shines right through the—” she stumbled to a halt when it again became obvious that he wasn’t listening, as he’d already turned his back on her. “Where are you going?” she called out after him.
“To repay those who broke into my home and attacked you. For you’re under my protection and nobody hurts what belongs to me. It’s going to be a short, sharp punishment and they’ll never repeat it—the dead can’t reoffend. Stay here,” he growled, before stalking from the room.
Jessica blinked.
*****
“…and nobody hurts what belongs to me.”
The words reverberated inside her head. So Alex had already decided that she belonged to him now, did he? Well, she would see about that. Anyway, if anybody was going to be inflicting bodily harm on those heinous individuals then it would be her, not him. Ever since the sheriff had arrived, she’d been working herself up into such a state, worrying what
Alex’s reaction would be on his return, but to simply be dismissed out of hand? She could already feel her temper start to boil over. She would show him that she wasn’t beholden to anybody.
Stepping out of the study, she observed his rapidly retreating form vanishing down the corridor in the direction of the main entrance and their newest addition to the house. Hurrying to catch up with him, she cursed her overly large boots and after stumbling in them twice, she eventually gave up and kicked them off, instead chasing Alex, barefoot, down the hall. She was just in time to observe the deputy that the sheriff had placed at the entrance to the reception room, step aside, to let Alex pass. She could hardly blame him, having been on the receiving end of his ferocious glare already that evening.
Sheriff Abercrombie, however, was a different matter entirely. He was not going to be intimidated and, most definitely, was not going to step aside. Which relieved Jessica so much, that was, until she caught the tail end of their conversation.
“I’m the law here, and I’m not going to allow you to take it into your own hands,” the sheriff insisted.
“No,” Alex shook his head violently. “You’re the law out there,” he pointed in the direction of the entrance hall. “And you do so with my tacit understanding and agreement that I don’t interfere with how you do things, out there, but here, in my own home, I’m the law and once I’ve finished with them, and thrown their carcasses out the door, you’re more than welcome to them. Until then, get out of my way!”
“Listen to yourself,” the older man persisted. “You’re acting as if you’re one of them now. Judge, jury and executioner. You’re not like them, you’re better than this.”
“In this you’re completely and utterly wrong, for I’m exactly like them. Now stand aside, or I’ll make you. Decide quickly, for my patience is fast wearing thin.”
For the longest time the two of them stared at each other, a clash of wills, with seemingly neither of them willing to back down. Finally, the sheriff’s eyes momentarily flickered to hers and then, with a knowing smile, he took a step back, raising his hands as if in surrender. “Fine, do as you wish. But remember their blood is on your hands, not mine.”
With that he took a step aside, allowing Alex to pass, much to Jessica’s incredulity. If anybody could talk some sense into Alex, she thought it would have been him, as they seemed to have a close, unlikely friendship that she didn’t fully understand. Well, if somebody had to make him see sense, then it would have to be her. With a little luck she would have to hit him over the head with it, repeatedly.
She would certainly enjoy that.
Suddenly, she realised that she’d better get on with it, as time was rapidly running out for the three men, bound hand and feet, kneeling in the middle of the room. Alex stalked them, like death itself, fusion pistol already in hand and raised it until it was level with the forehead of the first. A single thought all that separated the man from this life and the next.
“Alex!” her cry echoed around the room and the word brought them a brief respite, for it wasn’t until she’d said the word, she realised that it was the first time that she’d ever voiced his given name out loud.
The surprise was clearly etched on his face, as he turned to face her, the pistol wavered slightly, but still pointing at the man’s head.
Now that she finally had his attention, she frantically grasped at what to say next. “Don’t do this. They,” she waved a hand in the direction of the bound and gagged men, “threatened to do the very same to me. You’re not like them, you’re better than this.”
“You seem to have some mistaken idea that I give a damn about what you think. You have put me on a pedestal that I neither want, nor care for. I have tried being honest, decent and truthful, and lost everything because of it. There is no justice in this world, or the next. As for the Gods? I’ve already stood in judgement before them, and I promise you that justice was not served. There is only one person that you can rely upon, yourself, and you never doubt yourself. You make your decision and move on. Only fools, or the dead, dwell in the past and I’m neither.”
“Fine,” Jessica exclaimed, exasperated. “You want to go and kill them, go ahead. But just remember that I’m not going to help you clean up the mess in here. I’ve only just finished decorating and, furthermore, I’m absolutely not going to help you dispose of the bodies.”
“You’re going to throw my words, back in my face?” Alex said, lips quivering in a smile.
“They seemed to work well enough for you. Or is that all they were? Just meaningless words, sacrificed on the altar of your own good intentions.”
Alex meanwhile was rubbing his chin thoughtfully, staring at her intently, deep in contemplation. “You’re the one that was wronged, what would you have me do?”
“An eye for an eye and a cheek for a cheek.”
“Fair enough,” Alex smirked, “But let me do the honours. You’ve got to allow for my injured pride. Your wounds might be more visible, but trust me when I say that mine equally sting.”
With that he spun around, slamming his fist into the cheek of the man at his feet. The force of the blow toppled him to one side and everybody winced at the sound of his head bouncing off the floor.
“Have you now finished with this overpowering display of male testosterone?” she sniped impatiently.
“Yep,” Alex replied unperturbed as he breezed past her. “Nice speech by the way, but it really wasn’t necessary. I could hardly shoot all three of them now, could I? What with you looking on—barefoot. You look like some sort of wild Nymph that’s just escaped from a fairy tale. Cute toenails by the way.”
His parting comment had the unfortunate effect of causing everybody in the room to turn to glance at her bare feet, with hardly more than one concealed smile.
*****
“Ouch! That hurts.”
“Sorry,” muttered Alex. “You know this would be a lot easier if you didn’t keep fidgeting.”
“What is it? It reeks.”
“Something that Mary concocted. I’m not entirely sure what it’s made of. Frankly, I thought it best not to ask. However, I’ve used it plenty of times before, it’s a mild anaesthetic and will bring down the swelling and speed your recovery.”
“Get involved in many fights, do you?” Jessica teased, hissing when he applied the foul smelling salve onto her cheek.
“Not really, but when I do I’ve often got enough good sense to know when to duck.”
Jessica just snorted, ignoring the remark, but after a few minutes the silence started to become intolerable. “So where did you go?” she blurted out the question that had been nagging at her ever since his departure.
“It’s a long story,” came back the terse reply.
“I’m not going anywhere, why do you have a pressing engagement?”
“Fine,” Alex sighed, recounting the events that had transpired on Babylon Station, purposefully averting his gaze as he did so. He had no wish to see the disdain in her eyes at his abject failure. Yet, by the time he had finished the story and having not received any comment, he risked a glance in her direction.
She was biting her cheek, trying in vain to supress her laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“You,” she chortled, a smile threating to engulf her face. “It’s just that you have the most remarkable friends, not enough that he set you up to get killed, but he also had to swindle you in the process. Is there anybody you know that doesn’t want you dead?”
“That depends,” he shot back. “If you still want me dead? As John mentioned you said something to that effect…”
“I was more than a little put out with you at the time,” Jessica replied waving her hand dismissively. “Having spread the nasty rumour that I was a raging lunatic…” lapsing into silence once again, but this time it felt different, almost comfortable. “So what are we going to do now?” she finally asked.
“We?” Alex snorted.
“Well, corr
ect me if I’m mistaken, but it seems that somebody very much wants us both dead.”
“I’m not deluding myself into thinking I can protect you all by myself. I can swallow my pride for long enough to admit that I, we, need help. I know some people—”
“More friends of yours?” Jessica rolled her eyes. “Just what we need, more people trying to kill us.”
“Colleagues,” Alex continued on, ignoring her. “Ex-colleagues to be more specific, they won’t want to help, but they owe me. Once I remind them of that, then they’ll help us.”
“You trust these people?”
“Yes, they’ll never betray us. If, for no other reason, than the only person they could betray us to, they hate, even more than me.”
“You know the strangest people,” she shook her head in astonishment. “When do we leave?”
“There you go with that we again. I’ll leave in the morning, you stay here, where it’s safe.”
“Safe?” Jessica scoffed. “You’ve got some peculiar ideas about what’s safe. Considering a group of thieving criminals ran, amok, through your own home, only yesterday.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Alex shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll have another word with John, either he or one of his deputies can remain here with you.”
“It wasn’t John, or one of his deputies, that swore to keep me safe. So you’re going to break your word now, are you?”
Alex opened his mouth about to retort, before snapping it shut, grinding his teeth together in frustration.
Having had little sleep the night before, Jessica found herself being gently lulled to sleep by the warmth of the fire and the plush, deep-seated sofa. “Wake me when it’s time for us to depart,” she sighed, snuggling deeper into the cushions. Comfortable and safe, with Alex seated beside her.