Escape Velocity (Off-World Series, Book 7): Sexy Science-Fiction Romance Novel

by Rebecca York

  Max kept his gaze steady. “Maybe you should tell me how you got mixed up with him in the first place.”

  Rafe swallowed hard. “Can we sit down?”

  “So, you have time to think of an answer?” Amber demanded.

  “Because I’m a little shook.”

  “What does shook mean?” Amber asked.

  “Shook up. Upset.”

  Max nodded. “I think all of us are. We can sit in the galley.”

  When he started to usher her down the corridor, she said, “You two go first.”

  “Sure,” Max said, picking up the wrench and slipping it back into the tool kit before leaving the control room.

  In the galley, while Max opened a storage closet and got out a third chair, she and Rafe stared uneasily at each other. When Max had set the chair on the deck, they all squeezed around the small table. The two men were across from each other. Amber took the position at the end of the table—separating herself from them.

  Max looked at his friend. “Maybe you should tell us why you suckered me into doing a nasty job for Elgin Tudor.”

  Rafe sighed. “Three years ago, Tudor could have had my cargo confiscated when I arrived on Danalon because my papers weren’t in order. I’d paid a lot for spices from the rim, and if I’d lost the cargo, I would have been in trouble. He read me pretty well, and he made the problem go away, but he also made it clear that he would want something in return. When he contacted me about picking up a package on Naxion, I couldn’t say no.”

  He shifted in his seat. “But I’d already taken another job—delivering medical supplies to the Hawkings colony. Supply ships had been ambushed recently, and they thought I had a better chance of slipping through than other pilots. So, I couldn’t just blow them off.”

  He looked from Max to Amber and back again. “I had agreed to keep radio silence until I’d finished the delivery. And I couldn’t leave a message on my comms unit saying where I’d gone.

  It wasn’t until I was heading back to Danalon that I heard from Tudor and found out that Max had disappeared with the package.”

  He looked at his friend. “I knew you wouldn’t steal from me, so I figured you had a good reason for not finishing the job. So, when Tudor asked where you’d gone, I said I didn’t know. But I had a pretty good idea.” He switched his focus to Amber. “Max and I have hidden out here a few times. I figured this was where he’d go if he needed to disappear. But now I knew Tudor was looking for me, and I couldn’t just send Max a message. When I got close, I tried a code we’ve used in the past. He knew it was me.”

  “And I knew I could trust him,” Max added.

  Amber shifted in her seat, watching these two men. They obviously knew each other well. They had worked together often. And she could sense the bond of trust between them.

  She was pretty sure Max was on her side. He would help her get free of Tudor. She still wasn’t sure of the other guy.

  “You say Tudor is after you?” she said.

  “Yeah. And he’s relentless. Once he puts you on his enemies list . . .” He spread his hands.

  “What will he do if he catches up with you?”

  “Have me killed, I expect. Or, to put it another way, I’ll simply disappear. It’s not like anyone would miss me.”

  Max muttered a curse under his breath. “I would. But I expect I’d be dead with you.”

  She winced. She was the reason these friends were in bad trouble, and if she could help get them out of it, she would. “What were you planning to do—to stop him?”

  “I was hoping Max had some brilliant suggestions,” Rafe answered.

  She looked at him. Do you?”

  “I wish I did.”

  “We won’t be safe until he’s dead,” she murmured.

  Max laughed. “That might be right.”

  An idea was starting to form in her mind, an idea that was almost too frightening to contemplate. Yet the way they had described this man named Tudor, it seemed like he wouldn’t give up easily—or ever.

  Still, she wasn’t going to jump into anything without more information.

  “Where were you supposed to deliver me?” she asked Rafe. “To the spaceport or what?”

  He looked down at his hands. “I hadn’t decided where to hook up with Max. But for the delivery, I supposed to take a shuttle down to a landing spot near his country estate.”

  “The place that’s out near the edge of the swamp?”

  He nodded. “Where he can be nice and private—except for people who work there, and they’re not in a position to do anything about his activities.”

  “Yes, he could have them killed, too,” she said in a small voice.

  The idea circling in her mind was making her head pound, demanding that she give it voice.

  Before she could stop herself, she said, “I could kill him.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Max’s head turned toward Amber, his gaze boring into her. “And how would you do that?”

  She pulled herself up straighter. “I will need your help. You will take me to his estate and explain that delivery was delayed because the men on Naxion tried to kill you. You have a burn to prove it. We’ll figure out a way for me to get in there with a weapon.”

  “Absolutely not. Too crazy dangerous,” he shot back.

  She kept her voice steady. “You have a better idea?”

  “No.”

  Across the table, Rafe shifted in his seat. “Maybe she’s on to something.”

  Max jerked toward him his eyes flashing. “I’m not putting her in danger to save our asses.”

  Amber leaned forward. “He wouldn’t be expecting it. You’d have surprise on your side.”

  Max clenched his fists. “That sure as slat isn’t enough.”

  Rafe kept his voice even. “I think we could do it, if we had help.”

  “From whom?” Max demanded.

  “The swamp rats.”

  “Like hell,” he spat out.

  Amber kept her voice calm as she looked toward Max. “What can you tell me about them?”

  “They keep to themselves.”

  “But they can’t be a compete mystery,” Amber pressed. “You said some of them leave and go to Port City.”

  Max thought for a few moments. “Okay, what I know is that they come originally from a place on old Earth that was a lot like where they live now. They were always clannish. The story is that they stuck together on the transport ship, and when they got to Danalon, they stole a bunch of the provisions intended for the colony and disappeared into the swamp. The authorities tried to round them up, but they were too good at fading into the wild country. And they can still disappear when they want to. They have a society where the men make the decisions. They’re hard workers.” He stopped for a moment. “And they are fierce and unpredictable.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “Everybody knows their background on Earth and their early history. And the life they’ve chosen takes hard work. They don’t have replicators or other modern conveniences. They catch their food in the swamp and cook it.”

  She swung toward Rafe. “What else do you know about them?”

  Rafe spread his hands. “Not a lot.”

  “So, we’d be taking a chance.”

  “If we want their help, we have to,” Max interjected.

  “You told me one of the workers on his estate already has a grudge against him. I’ll bet there are a lot more. Tudor is already sure he can do anything he wants to those people.”

  “What was it that he did?” Rafe asked.

  “He killed the guy’s dog for digging in his flower bed.”

  “And that’s only one person who reported something,” Amber said.

  “We’re not going to rush off and implement any plans until we’ve . . .”

  “What?” Amber demanded. “From here, we can’t tell the situation at all.”

  “Since when are you running this operation?” Max demanded.

  Sh
e dragged in a breath and let it out. “I am sorry. Of course, I am not. But I think we need to go down there and find out if the . . . swamp rats would be willing to help someone get rid of him.”

  Rafe jumped into the conversation. “You’d have to do that carefully, because if they’re not on your side, someone could turn you in. And then Tudor would have you where he wanted you.”

  She swallowed hard. “You’re right. But I hope you’re willing to take the chance.”

  “We can’t just show up there,” Max said. “What’s our reason for contacting them?”

  “We have some choice goods to sell,” Rafe suggested.

  “Like what?” Max asked.

  “I told you I was delivering medical supplies to one of the colonies. While I was there, a group of the local ladies thought I might be able to make some money for them. They gave me a shipment of . . .” he waved his hand. “I guess you’d call them one of a kind clothing they’d made.”

  Amber’s eyes lit up. “Women’s clothes?”

  “Some. And men’s shirts.”

  “Can I look at them?”

  “You can have some,” Rafe said.

  She gave him a broad grin that quickly turned into a more cautious smile.

  “I’ll bring some over from my ship,” he said as he pushed himself away from the table.

  As he stood, Amber did too. Her arm stretched out, then flopped by to her side. “I’m sorry I attacked you,” she said.

  “I can understand why. I’m sorry I ever got involved with Tudor.”

  “I imagine he’s the kind of man who goes around looking for opportunities to set up favors so he can have a hold over people.”

  Rafe flushed. “Probably true. I would have been better off if I’d just accepted a short term in jail—in the first place.”

  Amber’s face contorted. “Not many people would have done that.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe we get the chance to wipe out my mistake once and for all.”

  As he turned and walked toward the air lock, Max followed.

  Rafe glanced over his shoulder, then at Max. “What do you think our chances are of pulling it off?”

  “It depends on the swamp rats. If we tried it by ourselves, it would probably be a suicide mission.”

  “It might be, anyway,” Rafe muttered.

  “You don’t have to do it,” Max said.

  “I think I do. I got us into this mess. But I’m not going to go through with any plan unless I think it has some chance of success.”

  “Agreed,” Max said, although he was wondering what Amber would do if he put his foot down. And if he did, then what?

  They waited for first one air lock to open, then the other. When they were inside Rafe’s ship, he led the way to the storage area, where he pulled out several crates of merchandise.

  Max looked through the contents and held up several pieces of clothing. Mostly they were loose shirts and gauzy dresses handwoven of bright threads. “Yeah, these are appealing in a native culture sort of way. I think the women would like them.”

  “I would, too,” a voice behind them said.

  Both men whirled around to see Amber standing in the doorway of the cargo bay.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?” Max demanded.

  “I followed you.”

  “That meant you had to work the air lock.”

  “Yes.”

  “Kahlad. You could have gotten yourself killed. Or you could have gotten us killed.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Rafe looked from Amber to Max and back again. “You take chances.”

  “You mean like tricking Max into not delivering me to Tudor? You get used to taking chances when you have nothing to live for.”

  He answered with a little nod. “Why did you come over? Did you think we’d start plotting against you when we were alone?”

  “I wanted to see the clothing. I don’t have much to wear. And I was thinking that if the things looked good on me, they’d make a nice advertisement.”

  “I guess that’s right,” Rafe said.

  He gestured toward the shipping containers, and she began pulling out pieces of clothing and making small exclamations. Max watched her, thinking she was acting like most of the women he’d known, reacting to pretty apparel. But she wasn’t most women. She’d had a miserable life so far, so miserable she was willing to take chances few would consider.

  “These are so pretty.”

  Max glanced at Rafe and saw he must be having a similar reaction.

  “Take what you want,” his friend said.

  She eyed the treasure trove. “That would be too much. I’ll just pick out a few things.”

  Her face grew serious as she sorted through shirts and blouses, dresses and slacks. “I assume the women in the swamp wear long pants,”

  “Unless they’re dressed up. Then I think they wear long skirts,” Rafe answered.

  She selected several items, then glanced around, looking suddenly shy. “Where can I try them on?”

  “My ship’s laid out like Max’s. You can use the guest cabin.”

  “Okay. Thank You.”

  When she had departed with an armload of clothing, Rafe looked at Max.

  “She’s resourceful.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wouldn’t get too wound up with her if I were you.”

  His head snapped toward his friend. “Why not?”

  “She can get you in trouble.”

  “We’re already in trouble.”

  “A different kind.”

  Max cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

  “Other guys are going to want her. Are you prepared for that? And prepared for your reaction?”

  Before Max could answer, Amber returned wearing a gold-colored shirt and slacks in a slightly darker shade.

  A zing went through Max as he took in the effect. He’d known from the first good look at her that she was gorgeous, but in the right clothing, she was even more stunning.

  “Beautiful,” Rafe murmured.

  As if he were illustrating the conversation they’d had a few minutes earlier, Max said, “Don’t get any ideas.”

  Rafe turned his hands palm up. “I’m not.”

  Could he count on that? Then he reminded himself that Rafe was the one who had brought up the problem of Amber’s looks.

  Apparently unaware of the tension between the two men, Amber departed.

  “I’d never cut in on you,” Rafe said, punching out the words.

  “I know—on an intellectual level.”

  “Yeah. You’ve got a chick who’s gorgeous. And you don’t know if you can trust her.”

  Max answered with a tight nod. Amber didn’t think like a woman who had grown up on a civilized planet. In any situation, he couldn’t be sure of how she would react. She’d been willing to risk both their lives to get off Naxion. What else was she willing to do? Maybe if she found a guy who seemed more likely to protect her, she’d go with the better prospect.

  Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. And maybe if she jumped ship, that would be for the best.

  He repressed a laugh. Was that really what he wanted? He wished he knew.

  His thoughts were interrupted as Amber returned a few minutes later wearing another outfit. He struggled to control his expression. With her uncanny knack for picking clothing that would accent her best features, she looked beyond stunning. He clenched his fists. It wasn’t just Rafe who had reacted to her. He could bet a lot of swamp rats would want her.

  Maybe he wasn’t hiding his feelings as well as he thought.

  “What?” Amber asked. “You don’t like this outfit?”

  “It looks great on you. But remember when we were going to the space station, and I was worried about people noticing you? This is worse. We’re going to be interacting with a bunch of lusty males, a lot of whom are going to want you.”

  She considered that. “You can do the same thing, use makeup to make me less . . . desirab
le.”

  “I think I have to.” He studied her face, loving the shape of her lips and cheekbones. “But maybe not quite so drastic as last time.”

  “You have to be the judge of how to work it.”

  He continued to think it through, “It’s best if they don’t know at first that we plan to go after Tudor—or why. First we can just be there as traders.”

  “Yes,” Rafe agreed.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “And you have to make sure there are no people spying for him.”

  Max stared at her. “Why are you thinking about spies?”

  “Because powerful men are likely to have them.”

  “How would you know about that?”

  “I knew there were the guards in my camp reporting back to headquarters.”

  “How?”

  She spread her hands. “When men came to check up on us—they already had details of what went on.”

  Max nodded.

  “And it was known you shouldn’t call yourself to their attention.”

  “But you did. And that’s why they decided to sell you to Tudor. What did you do exactly?

  “You can probably guess. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I kept seeing that my friend, Esme, was being punished for things she hadn’t done, and I defended her.”

  “Like how?” Max asked.

  “Like I’d point out she hadn’t been anywhere near the table when the cup fell off and broke.”

  Max wanted to hear more, but this probably wasn’t the time.

  Rafe cleared his throat. “Some powerful men are so sure of their status that they don’t pay attention to lowly misfits living in the swamp.”

  Amber swung toward him. “Do you want to bet your life on that?” she asked.

  He scowled.

  “Let’s not start fighting with each other,” Max said.

  “I’m not fighting,” Amber and Rafe both answered.

  “We should get some rest, then have a planning session in the morning,” Max suggested.

  Rafe nodded. “You go back to your ship. I’ll be more comfortable here.”

  Max knew his friend was right. They’d all be better off if they got a little distance from each other.

  “And I can take a couple of the outfits?” Amber asked, looking at Rafe.