Thief: Fringe, Book 1

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Thief: Fringe, Book 1 Page 27

by Anitra Lynn McLeod


  A touched confused, Heller nodded.

  “But it’s not impossible to accept. Because if you really think about it, Heller, everybody has their bests and worsts. Even you and me.”

  “But she’s good at things she shouldn’t be,” Heller said.

  “Like what?”

  “Fighting.”

  “You’re good at that too,” Jace said.

  “Not as good as she is.”

  “So?”

  “So? That ain’t normal, Jace!”

  “Is it normal that she knows how to cook?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Is it normal for her to know the real thing rather than that IWOG gunk?”

  “No, but that’s still okay. It’s a girl thing to cook.”

  “And a boy thing to fight.”

  “Right.”

  “Wrong.”

  “That’s the way it should be!” Heller bellowed.

  “In your mind, yes, but that isn’t the way it is in real life, Heller. I’m trying to get you to see the difference.”

  “So now I’m supposed to be her best bud?”

  “No. But you leave her alone. Everyone else too. Including Bailey. Stop baiting everyone.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Yes you do. You spout vulgarity like a geyser and then glare at everybody you soak.”

  “Garrett asked for that.”

  “I don’t know what you said to him, but you’re damn lucky he didn’t bust your lights out.” Jace shook his head. “You know better than to mess with Garrett. I figured one time of him busting your chops would be enough.”

  “Well, Bailey had no right to—”

  “You refused to follow Garrett’s direct order. In the chain of command, Bailey came next.”

  “No, I did—”

  “Until you went against Garrett.”

  “So where does Kraft stand?”

  “Did she issue an order after I went down?”

  “No.”

  “Then the question is moot.”

  “But I was the only one trying to protect you—”

  “Enough.” Jace stood. “I’m going to say this once, Heller, so listen up. From this day forward, if I’m out of commission, Garrett is in charge. If he goes down, Kraft is. If she goes down, you are. If you’re smart you’ll get down on your knees and pray you never get the chance to find yourself captain of Mutiny.”

  “So now that IWOG bitch is above me?”

  Jace slapped the table hard. The plate of spaghetti jumped and Heller flinched. “Do not call her anything but Kraft.”

  “I’ve been here longer than that—I’ve been here a lot longer than her and I don’t think it’s fair—”

  “You don’t? You don’t think it’s fair the way I want to run my ship? You think time in gives you some right to dictate how things are going to run around here?”

  “No, but—”

  “Grasp hard and fast, Heller. I’m in charge of Mutiny. What I say goes. If you don’t like it, I’ll gladly show you the door.”

  “Kraft ain’t normal.”

  “Only to your mind, Heller.” Jace sighed. “She’s a hell of a fighter, isn’t she?”

  Heller glared, considered, in the end he nodded reluctantly.

  “Rather than hate her for it, why don’t you just accept it.”

  “’Cause it ain’t right.”

  “Has it ever crossed your mind that you could learn something from her? That if you just asked she would teach you some of her tricks?”

  “That freak-show—”

  Jace smacked his hand to the table and Heller flinched.

  “She ain’t gonna share her tricks with me.”

  “You ever ask her to?”

  “No.”

  “Before you condemn her, you best try to get along. Because I got news for you, Heller. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep her on my ship.”

  “Don’t tell me you actually love that—her.”

  “What if I do, Heller? Is that my business or yours?”

  Jace touched the com and opened the door. He closed it and locked it down from the outside. “Bailey?”

  “Yes?”

  “Keep the door to Heller’s room locked. Keep the com channel open as send only. If he gets an urge to chat, let me know. I’ll be in the infirmary.”

  Jace could hear Kraft’s laughter long before he entered the infirmary.

  “You have to stop telling me limericks or I’ll bust my seams.” Kraft was flat on her back with her eyes closed.

  “These are the mild ones, darling,” Garrett winked at Payton as she filled a basin. He was sitting on the counter next to the sink, one knee drawn casually up to his chest by his linked arms.

  “Tell her something that won’t make her laugh so much,” Payton begged as her giggle sloshed water down the sink.

  “There’s a saying from Earth about laughter being the best medicine,” Kraft said. “But I think I’ve had enough.” She crossed her hands over her chest.

  Payton dropped a sponge into the basin and Jace grasped she was about to give Kraft another clean up. He stepped forward, lifted his finger to his lips, shook his head, and took the basin over to Kraft. He waved bye-bye to Payton and Garrett. They left with grins that almost swallowed their faces.

  Jace wrung the sponge out and dabbed it to Kraft’s face.

  “You two get bored playing slap and tickle over there? Or do I look so bad you’re trying to clean me up before Captain Lawless gets back?” Kraft opened her eyes and looked right into his. She didn’t miss a beat. “Well hello, sailor.” She smiled slow and lazy and sexy. “Come here often?”

  “Only when there’s a crazy lady in need.”

  “Crazy? I thought I was impossible.”

  “Both?” he asked.

  “Crazy impossible?”

  “Impossibly crazy.”

  “Either way it doesn’t sound good.” Kraft flinched. “What are you doing to my face?”

  “Hold still, I’m trying to clean it.”

  “By kissing it with a sponge?” Kraft sat up, grabbed the sponge, and swabbed her face quickly. “Is that better?”

  “I aimed for gentle, not quick.”

  Kraft wrung the sponge out and gasped when the water turned a dull, muddy maroon. “I thought I got hit in the belly.”

  “You did, but the blood spattered up.”

  “That’s not just my blood, that’s—” Kraft closed her eyes and carefully inspected herself. Her fingertips touched lightly but she flinched each time she made contact. “I’m soaked in—”

  Jace grabbed her face, pulled it close. “Listen to me.”

  “No, no.” Kraft clenched her eyes shut, shook her head then started ripping off the remains of her blood-drenched shirt.

  “Listen to me,” Jace demanded.

  Kraft’s eyes went wide with horror. Then narrowed with anger.

  “You did what you had to do to protect the crew.”

  “I killed clueless—”

  “You killed those who would have thoughtlessly killed you and yours. You did what you had to do, Kraft. You did exactly what you had to do in order to dance another day. There’s no shame in that.”

  “You—dare—hold me accountable for atrocities then forgive me for them when it benefits you?”

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  “I killed fifty people so seven could live.” Kraft winced. “Who am I kidding? I would have killed them all just so I could live.”

  “Would you have killed me to live?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “No? Would you?”

  “Have killed you?” Her eyes were wild, confused.

  “They were gunning for you, gunning for me and everyone on this ship. They would have killed us all without a pause, and you know it.”

  “So that justifies—”

  “You give as good as you get, don’t you?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Forgive me, Captain La
wless, but I need a reality check because for the life of me I don’t know why you’re standing here defending me to my own face.”

  “Because you’re too quick to condemn yourself behind your own back.”

  She sighed. “I can’t grasp this right now.” She moved to stand.

  Jace held her back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I have to wash this off.”

  “I don’t think Payton would appreciate water in the stitches.”

  “Then help me cover it with plastic because I’m going to take a shower. You don’t know what it’s like to feel this now, suddenly, this blood on me. It’s, it’s—”

  “Horrific.” Jace nodded. “I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “How opposed are you to me seeing you stark again?”

  “You want to shower with me?” Her eyebrows drew high. “Now really isn’t the best time for a round of slap and tickle!”

  “If you lie on your back, in the tub, holding a plastic sheet over your wound, I can wash you.”

  “Like a piece of dirty meat?”

  He recoiled. “That is the most horrible analogy I’ve ever heard.”

  “Mighty apt, don’t you think?”

  “Take it or leave it, Kraft. If I don’t do it then you pick someone else to.”

  “Me. Alone. I can wash myself off just fine without any help.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s either me or Payton.”

  “No.”

  “Then you’ll have to suffer with it.”

  “I’m capable of—”

  “Decide.”

  “Fine. You. No hanky-panky. No googly eyes.”

  “I won’t if you won’t.”

  Jace helped her into the bathroom. “Let’s do your hair first, okay?” He tried to untie the linen around her hair. He had to cut it free to start unwinding it. It crackled. Little maroon flakes of dried blood covered her back and the floor.

  Kraft groaned low in her chest.

  “Try not to think about it.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Think about something else.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me a recipe.” It was all he could manage off the cuff. As she did, he sat her down, her back to the tub, tilted her head back, pulled down the handle and washed her hair. It was a good thing her face was to the ceiling because she would have howled at the muddy red mess that came off her hair. It took almost five minutes for the water to run clear. He used half a bottle of lilac shampoo to soap the long black strands. He wondered how she could wash its length herself. When he was finished, she wrapped it up.

  “Here, sit down and let me get your boots off.” He pulled them off and winced. The blood inside was still slick and they slid right off. The smell was unbelievably rancid. Payton told him she’d debated removing them. In light of a potential spinal injury, she’d elected to leave them be until they were certain tugging on them wouldn’t damage Kraft further. “Keep your eyes closed and tell me another recipe, a dessert, something really sweet.”

  As she did, he stood her up and helped her take off what remained of her clothes. Passion did not fill him. Her body was streaked in crimson and maroon. He helped her into the tub, onto her back.

  “Hold this towel over the bandage.”

  He washed her carefully, then stood her up to wash off her back. When he was finished, he wrapped her in a towel and she just stood there shivering. He pulled her to his chest. “You okay?”

  She nodded. Suddenly she laughed. “I’m right back where I started.”

  “Where you started?”

  “On your ship, Captain Lawless.” Kraft looked up. “And I don’t have any clothes.”

  “You can wear mine. And I don’t think Bailey would mind lending you his boots again.”

  “I guess the Void will keep inflicting this on me until I learn.”

  “Learn what?”

  “That I can’t do it all myself.”

  Jace tucked her into bed in the passenger room next to her old room.

  “Why is the door to my old pris—bedroom locked?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Then tell me a bedtime story or I’m apt to get up and go look.”

  “Don’t open that door, Kraft.”

  “Shades of Bluebeard.”

  “What?”

  “A tale from Earth. Bluebeard took wives unto his home, bid them entrance to all but a locked room. When they opened it, they found the bodies of his other too-curious wives.” Kraft grinned. “I’m all for wondering at a mystery and, as they say, curiosity killed the cat, but you best tell me why I shouldn’t open the door to my old room.”

  “Heller’s in there.”

  “You’re keeping Heller prisoner now?”

  “When I was down, Heller tried to take control of the ship from Garrett.”

  Kraft tried to grasp but couldn’t. “He’s more loyal to you than a puppy, Captain Lawless. I can’t fathom him going against the chain of command.”

  “Well, in his mind, he had a compelling reason. It doesn’t excuse what he did, though.”

  “But why—”

  “Enough.” Jace shook his head. “I’m exhausted, Kraft. Let me tell you the rest in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  He leaned over, kissed her forehead, then murmured, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Me too.” She smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

  Jace cupped her face and left the room before he gave into the urge to climb into her bed.

  “You’re doing fine, Garrett. Now, take the chopped potatoes and put them in the water.”

  “Are you sure? This isn’t what mashed potatoes look like.”

  “You have to cook them before you mash them,” Kraft said.

  “What are you doing?” Jace asked, entering the kitchen.

  Kraft was sitting on the kitchen counter, dangling her bare feet as she watched Garrett. She wore Jace’s old shirt and trousers and had twined her hair with a white strip off an old sheet. Kraft tilted her head at him. “Is this a trick question?”

  “Hell, Jace, she’s forcing me to cook—save me before I kill us all!” Garrett exclaimed.

  “Looks like you’re doing fine,” Jace said, “but she shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “One more day of looking at the ceiling would have driven me insane.”

  “Short trip,” Garrett said, winking at her.

  “Would be with you driving,” she returned with a grin.

  Payton entered and Jace cornered her. “Should she be up and around?”

  “If she thinks she’s ready.” Payton shrugged.

  “So now she’s a doctor too?”

  “I’ve never witnessed a recovery so swift. If Kraft thinks she’s ready, then she is.” Payton lowered her voice. “I understand you want to protect her, Jace, and that’s admirable, but Kraft isn’t exactly the delicate little flower you seem to think she is.”

  “I don’t think that.”

  “Then stop treating her that way. Look at her.” Payton lifted her chin. “Kraft is in full command of her faculties. It also looks like she’s able to laugh again without pain. Perhaps you should take a page from her book.”

  “I just don’t want her to push herself too hard.”

  “I think you’re afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “If Kraft can walk, she might walk away.”

  Jace considered the remark as he watched Kraft. Payton voiced his greatest fear. It frustrated him that he couldn’t hold Kraft, couldn’t keep her. She would only stay long enough to recover and then she’d be gone. Most like, as soon as they landed on Corona, city of Borealis, Jace would be saying goodbye to Kraft for good.

  “She’s like an exotic bird, Jace, it would be cruel to keep her in a cage.” Payton touched his arm. “However, there’s nothing that precludes you from giving her a compelling reason to make your cage hers.”

  “What do I have
to offer her?”

  “She said, very clearly, that she loves you.”

  “When she was barely lucid.”

  “You think she lied?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you honestly want to know, ask her.” Payton considered. “But then, you’d have to admit the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “That whether or not she loves you, you most assuredly love her.” Payton walked over to the stove. “What are you making?”

  “A mess!” Overwhelmed by timing the flipping of seven steaks, Garrett stabbed his fork in the air.

  “Steady.” Kraft touched Garrett’s back with a gesture that conveyed strength. “He’s doing an admirable job of making chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes with country gravy.”

  “You should have started with something simple, like soup,” Payton said.

  “Hell, I love this, but didn’t realize how hard it is to make.”

  “You’re doing fine,” Kraft assured him. “All you have to do now is mash the potatoes and make the gravy.” Kraft carefully walked him through it and clapped her hands. “There you go. Start serving up plates.”

  Beaming with pride, Garrett served everyone then himself. “Do I have to eat in the kitchen since I cooked?”

  “I think we’re going to start a new tradition. Everyone, including the cook, eats at the table,” Jace said.

  Everyone sat down. Kraft sat beside him on the little bench at the head of the table. In the midst of taking a bite and finding it wonderful, everyone cast their eyes at the empty place where Heller usually sat.

  “I’ll take him a plate,” Kraft offered.

  “I’m not having my hard work end up thrown against the wall,” Garrett said.

  “I’m not having my stitches ripped out,” Payton insisted.

  “Let Jace do it,” Garrett said.

  “Why would he throw it against the wall or my stitches—”

  Jace sighed. “Fill her in, Garrett, while I go attend to our resident bad boy.” Jace filled a plate and left.

  He tapped the com on the outside of Heller’s prison. “Heller? I have dinner if you’re interested.”

  “Did that—did Kraft make it?”

  “No, Garrett did.” Jace opened the door. Heller stood well back with his hands up. “Sit down at the table.”

 

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