Trust and Treachery

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Trust and Treachery Page 15

by Charissa Dufour

Chapter Ten

  Bit groaned as she woke up, blinking sleep and grit from her eyes. Her entire body ached with a stiffness that she usually didn’t feel. She glanced at the glowing numbers of the clock Calen had found for her. It was four-thirty in the morning. She blinked again, trying to remember how she had gotten to her hammock.

  Slowly, the activities of the previous day came back to her—her arm, the painkillers, and Blaine. Bit groaned again. How could she possibly face him?

  Carefully, she rolled into a sitting position on her hammock. It was too early for them to be serving breakfast, but she was starving, having not eaten since yesterday’s breakfast. Funny how her body had grown so accustomed to eating regularly in such a short period of time.

  All the same, maybe Vance would already be in the galley and she could snitch a snack. She climbed to her feet and dressed in fresh clothing. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t take in the men’s pants given to her. They hung in loose folds around her thin legs. She rolled the cuffs to keep from tripping and cinched them to her waist with a leather belt. The shirts were another matter. Most of them she had managed to shrink down to something closer to her size. Today she wore a pair of dark green cargo pants and a gray long-sleeve tee.

  Bit slipped out of her room and tip-toed down to the mess hall. From the hallway, she heard the sounds of industry within the galley. Slowly, so as not to surprise anyone, she pushed the door open and poked her head in.

  Vance and Nolan were hard at work, preparing the crew’s breakfast. They heard the creak of the door and turned to stare at her.

  “Finally awake, eh?” Vance asked with a jolly smile. “We thought you’d never surface.”

  Bit felt her cheeks burn with a blush. Did they all know about yesterday?

  “You must be starving. Nolan, get her some of those pastries we finished.”

  Before she could escape, she was seated at the center counter, working through a pile of warm pastries, and watching them work.

  Nolan’s long hair was tied back in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck. Nolan was a rough man, she decided as she watched the under steward work. His face had a few little scars, and what facial hair he could grow was splattered thinly across his face. Even his knuckles were scarred.

  As she ate, she wondered what sort of life had led such man into the position of an under steward on a freighter. He looked more like he belonged in Randal’s security team.

  The rough man caught her staring and gave her a dark look. She quickly shifted her eyes to her plate and took another bite. When she finished, she considered how to calm the breach between her and Nolan, and the resulting issue with the rest of the crew.

  “Can I help?” she asked as she climbed off her stool.

  “You cook much?”

  “’Fraid not,” she replied.

  “Nolan, teach her how to knead the dough.”

  She took up a position next to Nolan, willing herself not to be afraid. At least she wasn’t worrying about her drug-induced embarrassment.

  Nolan spread flour over their workspace and lifted a towel from a large bowl filled with white goo. He divided it into two piles, placing one in front of Bit.

  “Pack it down and knead it like this,” ordered Nolan, showing how to do it.

  She copied his movements, working the unruly dough. Her injured arm quickly began to ache with a fierce fire, but she refused to tell Nolan.

  “How did you learn to cook?” she asked as she felt sweat begin to form on the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades.

  “Mom.”

  “Cool,” she said, unsure how else to respond. “How did you come to be a steward?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Just trying to make conversation.”

  “How’d you become an indentured?” he asked with a sneer.

  She didn’t much want to tell this man how she had essentially been sold into slavery, but she had asked first. It was only fair that she answer his question.

  “My father got into a lot of debt. He signed me and my sister over to the program to cover his debts.”

  “Huh.”

  They lapsed into silence for a long time, working the dough over and over again.

  “How long do we have to do this?” she asked when the ache in her arm turned into true pain.

  “What you put into your bread is what you get out,” Vance and Nolan quoted together, though Nolan sounded less impressed by the statement.

  Their response didn’t really answer her question and so she kneaded on, thoroughly regretting her offer to help. It just proved that Blaine was right—she needed to build some muscles.

  “Looks like we have breakfast well in hand. I’m gonna run up for a shower,” Vance announced suddenly.

  Before either could respond, Vance disappeared. Nolan immediately stopped his kneading and leaned back against the counter. While Bit wanted to do a good job, her arm was hurting. She doubted the torn muscle could do more, even if she had wanted to. She leaned up against the counter next to Nolan and cradled her aching arm.

  “There’s a closet right over there no one uses,” he said suddenly, giving her wink.

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, c’mon,” he said as he reached out and caressed her cheek, letting his hand run down toward her chest.

  “Excuse me!” she snapped, taking a step back.

  “Let’s not pretend. You know what I’m talking about. I can make your life miserable,” he added when she took another step away.

  He closed the distance and grabbed her arm, barely missing her bandage. He dragged her to his chest, gripped the back of her neck with his free hand, and planted a sloppy kiss on her closed lips.

  She protested as best she could, complaining despite her covered mouth. She was loud, but not loud enough, as he began to drag her back to the corner of the kitchen and the closet he had indicated. He got her halfway across the long galley, his lips still working against hers, when he came to a sudden stop.

  Suddenly Blaine was standing behind Nolan, his arm wrapped around Nolan’s throat. Bit took advantage of Nolan’s surprise and jerked free of his grip. Once she was clear, Blaine slammed Nolan down against the metal countertop, effectively knocking him out within seconds of entering the room.

  The fighter looked at Bit, his eyes wary as he took her shaking form.

  Forgetting her stance on men—despite the recent display from Nolan—Bit flung herself into Blaine’s arms, burying her face in folds of his shirt. He gripped her tightly, lifting her off her feet and setting her on the middle counter. Carefully, he extracted himself from her grip so that he could look at her.

  With gentle fingers, he brushed her hair out of her face.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, too enthralled with the tenderness in his eyes and the feel of his touch as his hands ran down her shoulders as though he was looking for some injury. Bit dragged him back into a tight embrace, and he quickly complied.

  “I need to go get Jack,” he whispered into her hair.

  She shook her head.

  “Jack has to know. We have to tell him. Nolan will just try it again.”

  “I know. Just not yet.”

  “Bit, I don’t want to push you.”

  “You’re not.”

  They waited in silence, each gladly clinging to the other.

  “Bit, if I don’t let go, I’m going to start to push you, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to make you hate me.”

  She nestled her head into the crook in his neck, clinging all the tighter to his strong form. She knew she needed to let go. Bit knew she was giving him mixed signals, but she couldn’t care. All she wanted was the feeling of safety his arms brought to her. She was being greedy and she knew it. She was just about to release him when the door behind her opened.

  “What the… where’s Nolan?”

  They released each other in record time. Blaine pointed to the unconscious figure still
lying in a heap on the floor.

  “What happened?” asked Vance.

  “Came in to find him… to Bit…”

  Bit ducked her head, afraid to look at anyone. She didn’t want to cause a fuss, but she knew Blaine would refuse to sweep it under the rug.

  Vance let out a long sigh through his nose. “Knew he was going to be a problem. I’ll go get Jack.”

  The steward left them again.

  Blaine cupped her cheek, forcing her to look up at him.

  “Bit. This is not your fault. You’re not making a scene. You have done nothing wrong, and you need to let Jack deal with this. Don’t argue with whatever he plans to do to Nolan. This is not Nolan’s first indiscretion. Okay?”

  She nodded, fighting against the tears finally beginning to leak out of her eyes. Once again, Blaine dragged her into a fierce hug.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you. You trust me.”

  She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his.

  “Good.”

  “Remember, Little Bit, we aren’t all like Nolan or the guy who hurt your sister.”

  Bit cringed, pulling away from him.

  “I was kinda hoping that had all been a bad dream,” she said, referencing her drug-induced talkativeness.

  Blaine grinned at her, his eyes softening with his own mischievousness. “Nope.”

  She cringed again, a deep blush burning her cheeks.

  “You tried to get me to kiss you, and then you hit on the captain.”

  Bit hung her head, trying to avoid his eye contact. Evidently, she was more repressed than she realized. Whatever the case, she would never live this down.

  “Ugh,” she groaned.

  “Don’t worry. Aside from the fact you had to take some meds for the gash, the crew doesn’t know how you behaved.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed.

  Blaine knowing was bad enough.

  “Speaking of your arm, how is it feeling?”

  Bit shrugged. “Fine.”

  “We’ll work on your lying abilities later,” he chuckled. “How is it really?”

  “Hurts. I was helping Nolan knead the dough before all this.”

  “Bi-it,” he growled. “You have got to let the muscle rest to heal.”

  She nodded, still hiding her eyes from him. She knew the blush had yet to fade.

  “By the way,” he whispered as he gripped her chin and nudged her face up towards his. “I thoroughly enjoyed your efforts yesterday.”

  Bit groaned again.

  “And had you not been high as a kite, I would have taken you up on your offer.”

  Bit’s blush deepened until it hurt her skin.

  “And when you do want me to kiss you, while sober, all you have to do is ask.”

  She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized he was interested in her. Bit cleared her throat.

  “Good to know,” she mumbled just as the door to the galley swung open.

  In record time, Blaine had put a foot of distance between them. Strangely enough, Bit found the separation discomforting rather than a relief.

  Jack stormed into the room, glaring down at Nolan’s limp body.

  “You okay, Bit?” he asked not looking at her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “He attacked you?” Jack asked, pulling his attention to her.

  She nodded. “He kissed me and began dragging me to the closet after I said no.”

  “Blaine, lock him up.”

  Blaine nodded and lifted Nolan’s body over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Bit didn’t know where they intended to lock him up, nor did she care.

  “Captain. Can I ask what you’re going to do to him?” Bit asked, remembering Jack’s original threat.

  “I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re worried about. He leaves the crew. We’ll lock him up until we reach Mars.”

  She nodded, grateful that the captain had agreed to tell her.

  “Are you hurt, Bit?” Jack asked.

  “No, sir. I’m fine.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “Captain to the bridge,” came a voice over the intercom system.

  Jack let out a frustrated sigh and left the kitchen.

  “You better get going,” Vance said as he took control of his kitchen.

  Bit knew it was more of an order than a suggestion. She climbed off the counter and left the galley, making her way up to the main level.

 

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