Runner: The Fringe, Book 3

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  “Are you certain you’ll be okay if you do this? If you let me go?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine. That’s why if you stay here, you’ll be fine too. If Roberts can’t get me, Roberts can’t get you either.” He felt like he was rapidly digging himself deeper into a hole he might not be able to climb out of.

  “People won’t stop looking for me until I’m caught or proven dead. I’m going to be on the run for the rest of my life.”

  He could practically see the full horror dawn on her. She pressed her hands flat to the table to hide tremors.

  “I’ll never be safe anywhere. I’ll be hunted until I’m dead.”

  He’d been over this in his own mind for hours. He offered her a choice. Not much of a choice, but considering her limited options, he thought it fair to middling.

  “I know, Jynx. I’ve thought about it. The only place you’re going to be safe is here. I know it’s not much. I’m basically offering you a prison cell, but it’s really the only thing I can offer you right now.” He hoped with a bit more time he could find her a better place.

  She peered up at him, toying with her silverware. “Thank you. You are extremely generous.” Her gaze fell to her plate.

  “I don’t expect you to make up your mind right away. You’ll have all the time you want to think about it.” Why did he feel like he’d failed her so miserably?

  “Thank you.” She sounded dazed, as if she’d just been sucker punched. The truth of her position was dawning on her in wave after horrible wave. She could never show her face anywhere again. She could live on his ship or die. Not much of a choice.

  “I guess you’re not really hungry anymore.”

  Jynx glanced at the stove where dinner waited. “Not so much.” Her head tilted back, and she met his gaze with startled eyes. “I apologize for my appalling lack of manners. I know you went to a great deal of trouble, and I appreciate your efforts, but in light of what—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He scooped up the faux-china plates. “Remember, this isn’t a garden party. Your manners are fine.” He put the clean plates in the sink and put the dinner away in case she changed her mind later. “Relax. I’m not going to yell anymore.”

  “I don’t think I can relax. My entire life has just flip-flopped again, Mr. Nash. If you want to yell, please do. I feel like doing it myself, even though it won’t help.”

  She continued to call him Mr. Nash, but he let her formality slide. He didn’t expect her to change overnight.

  “Wanna play?” he asked with a seductive, flirty edge and a waggle of his eyebrows.

  “What?” Her eyes startled wide as she looked up at him.

  “I must have surprised you. You didn’t say pardon.” He washed his hands and did a quick shutdown on the kitchen. “I asked you if you wanted to play.”

  “Play what?” Terror left her eyes, and a childlike sense of fun filled them. “Fort?”

  Grinning, thinking of what fun it would be to play with her, a mattress and a blanket, he shook his head. “Ever played Labyrinth?”

  “What is that?”

  “A virtual.”

  “You mean one of those murder simulators?” She recoiled automatically with a look of disgust. “I’m not interested in even pretending to kill other people.”

  “I can’t believe the IWOG still calls them that. Murder simulators?”

  “I guess.” She shrugged. “If that’s what you mean.”

  “Yeah. One of those.” Biting his lip as he grinned at her, he said, “A forbidden game. Wanna see one?” He wiggled his eyebrows even more suggestively than he had before.

  “Yes.” Her automatic admission seemed to startle her.

  He grinned, pleased he’d corrupted another piece of the IWOG lady right out of her. First a pleasure book, now a virtual. What next?

  “Come on.” He took her to the bridge of the Damn You.

  Jynx considered the room from the doorway. He followed her gaze. Wads of paper reports were intertwined in stacks of books. Pens, pencils and pads of paper with sketches were semi-organized on the port side. Starboard side had her purse, shoes and more books in a jumbled pile. Various pieces of equipment were scattered around in diverse states of repair.

  He looked at the lone chair. “Hmm.”

  “What? Is something missing? In all of this mess, how can you tell?” She covered her giggle by lifting her hand.

  “There’s only one chair.” He looked at what he’d always mockingly called his throne, the seat of his empire. Custom-made of the best black Byzantine leather, it was wider and taller than most pilot chairs and deliciously comfortable.

  “No copilot seat?” She looked around the room. “Perhaps the clutter took on a life of its own and ate it.”

  “No copilot.” He quickly cleaned up the mess by cramming everything into the storage lockers, where he should have kept it in the first place, then dropped into the chair he knew better than the back of his own hand. “Do you mind sitting on my lap?”

  An adventurous smile crossed her face as she considered his lap. “I don’t mind if you don’t.” Warm and soft and rather eager, she settled herself against his thighs. “What do all of these things do?”

  Her curious gaze darted around the array of electronics. In addition to the main deck, two walls of equipment went up then over their heads in an arc. Sensors banked every inch of space around the main window, like a band around the inside nose of his ship. He had more gleeps on his ship than most double-team pilots could handle, let alone a solitary man.

  He considered his bridge through her inexperienced eyes and realized it must look extremely complicated. Then again, his console would freak out an experienced pilot. But to him, his ship was a tool he used every day. As familiar and comfortable to him as his toothbrush.

  He pointed to the main deck console. “There’s basic stuff like fuel, speed, direction.” He pointed to the sides of the arc. “There’s other more complicated stuff, like electrical storage, weapons, grav, things like that.”

  “All the blinking lights make it look like a holiday tree.” She looked around, rather mesmerized. “I’m sure it’s complicated, but it’s also pretty. It reminds me of some of the medical equipment I’ve used.” She peered at some of the readouts and frowned. “On closer inspection, these machines are nothing like the medical equipment I’ve used. Those I understood.”

  With a few taps of his fingertip, he shut down all the lights. Blackness enveloped the bridge like a sudden blanket, causing her to recoil into him.

  “Sorry.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “Don’t worry, you didn’t suddenly go blind.”

  Another tap and a holo screen popped up on the main window. Swiveling his chair around, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight, he slid out a keypad.

  She took a startled breath at his sudden movements.

  “I need the keypad, and I didn’t want to bash it into your knees.”

  Watching the characters on the holo, he rapidly tapped up Labyrinth. She pressed close as he commanded his empire. She smelled wonderful. Her scent was not all cluttered up by IWOG products, and he found her natural scent painfully arousing. She smelled of strawberry shampoo, a bit of soap, but mostly her body. Her scent filled him with carnal need. If he took a deep enough breath, he swore he could taste her. Taste the places he wanted to lick. He had to get off this train of thought, and fast.

  “Why aren’t the stars streaming by like little points of light?” She looked through the holo to the Void beyond the main window.

  “Because we’re not moving.” He tried to keep his focus on her words and not the press of her bottom against his upper legs.

  “We’re just hanging here in space?”

  “Yeah. No point in rushing anywhere. I haven’t decided yet where to go next.” There weren’t a lot of places he could go.

  “Does anyone know we’re here?”

  “Nope.”

  “We are utterly alone out here.”

 
Tasting her by breathing through his mouth and nose, he pulled her close. “Utterly.”

  Turning to him, she said, “I’ve never been alone before. Alone like this.” Casting her gaze back to the darkness, she added, “Alone with only one other person where not a soul can see or hear or even know that we exist.”

  The idea clearly excited her. Her body seemed poised at the wonder of it, luxuriating in the discovery. Obviously she’d never known privacy, where he’d known far too much.

  He spent most of his time alone, just hanging out in his ship somewhere in the Void. When he got lonely or bored, he went planet-side. Such cravings for contact didn’t happen often. He could register himself as an expert on how one person could entertain himself. But lately, the hunger for contact consumed him more often and with stronger intensity each time. He hated to admit it, but he was lonely. He wanted a woman to love, a woman who would love him.

  “You’ve never been out into the Void before, have you?” He remembered what it was like to live on Banna. Privacy was a luxury few could afford. Most IWOG consumers were never alone. Even in your home, tucked in your bed, coms could go off with breaking news. A friend or family member could call at anytime day or night because of the universal time differential. Even if you managed to escape the press of the media, you could never really be alone with your thoughts because the potential intrusion loomed. Holos, highdef-billboards, talking vid on the palm coms, streaming adverts from products. IWOG consumers were surrounded by constant chatter.

  “Not like this,” she whispered. “Only on ships with thousands of other consumers. Most of them talking on their palms. Nothing so private. So quiet.” She snuggled tighter and closed her eyes. She lifted her head and sniffed deep, like an animal tasting the wind. Sighing, she settled back. “I find I like the very feel of the Void.”

  “Are you afraid?” He wondered if he meant about the danger of space itself, or if she might suddenly be afraid of him. She’d enticed him mightily, and he’d tried to scare her off, but he hoped she wasn’t afraid of him. Because he really wouldn’t hurt her. Nice Guy Nash. Jynx nailed that pretty well.

  “Are there any ships or planets near us?” she asked with a lazy curiosity and without opening her eyes.

  He swiveled his chair with a press of his foot against the floor, rotating them. He checked the wide scanner. “Not within the first perimeter.” He shut it off. “Anything gets beyond that range and the Damn You will alert me.”

  “And we have all the fuel, food and such we need?”

  “For a good long while.” He calculated. He had enough to run his ship for three months if he scrimped. A sudden pang of shame washed over him because he wanted to lavish upon her every luxury her heart could desire. Where once he could have, his current precarious financial situation made him unable to do so. A lady like Jynx deserved a lot better than a simplistic life aboard a starship with a man who could offer her next to nothing.

  “Then no, I am not afraid.” She settled back into his lap. That damn swelling came back very fast and very sudden, but she didn’t move away. “I take it you’re not afraid either.”

  No matter what he did, she didn’t react the way he thought she would. Or should. Every time he turned around, this lovely woman surprised him.

  “No.” He looked to the Void. “There’s nothing out there I can’t handle.” Problem was, he had a luscious bundle of woman in his lap that was a hell of a lot more frightening than anything out there. If disaster loomed, it was already on his ship, snuggled up in his lap like she’d been custom-made for him. She not only enticed the big brain but the little one too. Didn’t matter which one was in charge, since they both wanted the same thing: Jynx Brennan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I think, for the first time in my life, I’m not afraid.” Relaxing her head until she reclined against him, she enjoyed feeling his body, including his growing erection, as she considered the utter emptiness of space around them. “I feel comfortable and safe.”

  “You are safe. If you’re comfortable, that’s good too.” He squirmed a bit, trying to subtly draw her away from his bulge.

  “Would you feel more comfortable if I rode side-saddle?”

  “What?” Judging by the shocked tremor in his voice, he must have seen her positioned in a multitude of tawdry ways.

  “I could sit sideways across your lap. You might find it more comfortable.”

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Yeah, okay.”

  She held her knees together and slid her legs along his, then pressed her back into the right armrest. Her hip now had an even better impression of his ever-growing erection, and she deliberately nestled close.

  Groaning, he scooted left, lifting her up until she sat on his right thigh. He gave a sigh of relief.

  She bet he was relieved. All that pressure behind those faded jeans. If he thought his erection offended her, he was hopelessly wrong. His arousal excited her and spurred hers on. To be alone with him where they could do or say anything they wanted without fear of reprisal was a heady freedom indeed.

  “How did your ship gets its name?” she asked, distracting herself from how strong he was to just pick her up and move her bodily without much effort.

  “Do you like her name?” Foster was still squirming a bit in the chair, trying to get comfortable.

  “Her? Your ship is female? How can you tell?”

  “All ships are girls,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “A girl named Damn You? Odd name for anyone.”

  “I didn’t name her. Her bridge didn’t look like this when I bought her either.”

  While they talked, he tapped at the keypad he pulled from under the main console.

  “Who named the ship?” Characters and snippets of animation scrolled across the holo too fast for her to read or understand.

  “Fairing’s cook.”

  Jynx narrowed her eyes as she consulted her memory. She’d heard tales about a famous cook. “A warrior-cook, wasn’t he?”

  “She.”

  “Fairing’s cook was a woman?” For some reason, she’d always assumed the heroic figure to be male, but it pleased her to discover the legend was a woman.

  “Yeah. Is. She’s still alive and kicking in the Fringe.” Foster continued to tap at the keypad. He told her he was changing a few of the parameters on the game to make it easier for her to play.

  “You’ve met this person?” She knew many IWOG tales were based on real people, but the information still surprised her. Foster had led a lifestyle almost completely opposite from hers.

  “Kraft. I’ve worked for her. Anyway, she named the ship.”

  “The Damn You was her ship?”

  “No. Ever heard of Michael Parker?”

  That name rang an instant bell and caused her to shudder with revulsion. “Overlord?” Tales of his criminal enterprise and legendary sexual exploits flitted through her mind.

  “Yeah. This was his ship.”

  She couldn’t help but gasp in shock. “You know him?”

  “Do business with him all the time.” Foster pulled back a bit so he could look at her.

  “The Michael ‘Overlord’ Parker?” She made quote marks in the air.

  “One in the same.” Foster flashed her a dangerous smile.

  “Michael is the IWOG’s most wanted. He’s said to be—”

  “Almost as bad as Roberts says you are.” Foster cut her off and tilted his head roguishly.

  She considered with a sheepish grin. “He’s not what IWOG tales hold him to.”

  “No,” Foster said softly, still trying to get comfortable.

  “Nor are you.” She looked up in time to see him frown.

  “Depends.” He shrugged and turned his gaze to the blinking lights on the equipment panels that went around the nose of his ship. “Anyway, the Damn You was Michael’s ship.”

  “Overlord was a Runner?” She’d never heard that bit of information.

  “No. He was a slaver who got out of t
he business after six months and sold the ship to me. He decided he could make more money smuggling books.”

  “Books?” That didn’t sound at all like the man she’d heard about. “That still doesn’t explain the name of your ship.”

  “I’m getting to that, but you keep interrupting.” Foster lifted a brow. “When Michael, who had been involved with Kraft, up and decided to become a slaver, Kraft said, ‘Damn you.’ Michael tried to explain himself, but she only shouted ‘Damn you’ at him as she stalked away in disgust. In defiance, he named his ship the Damn You.”

  Jynx thought about the stories that had filled her ears since she was an impressionable youth. Foster could just be spinning more of the same, but she didn’t think so. She believed him. He knew these people and knew the truth behind the infamous reputations.

  “Overlord used this ship to sell men and women?” Cold shivers turned her spine to ice. A dull insistent clang warned her that that was still what the ship was used for, but she pushed the thought away. Foster was a bounty hunter, not a slaver, and he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d already made that abundantly clear.

  “He traded in people.” Foster nodded. “Not long. Turned his stomach after six months.” With a tsk and shake of his head, he added, “I can’t believe it took that long.”

  “You don’t support slavery?”

  “No.” He didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t have to. His clipped response made his abhorrence clear enough. “So, I bought the ship for a pittance and upgraded the hell out of it. Anyway, that’s how she got her name. Hasn’t ever been a soul aboard who didn’t appreciate that name, including me.” He settled back into his chair, spun until he could face the holo, then pulled the keypad to his lap. He had to wrap his right arm around her body to place both his hands on the keys. “Slide a little to the left.”

  She did.

  “Now, put your head so it faces the window dead on.”

  Flicking his finger, he turned off all the lights.

  “Fighter pilot delta, we acknowledge your distress call.”