Runner: The Fringe, Book 3

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  “Tell me what’s in those two containers, or I’m gonna fill you so full of fear, you’ll pass out. Got it?”

  Realizing they had bars between them, she tried to pull free, but his hand on her wrist tightened along with his hand on her throat. Just a bit. Just enough to remind her the pressure could get much worse.

  “Foster, please, stop. I’ll tell you the truth, just don’t hurt me.”

  “Maybe I should hurt you. Make sure you tell me the truth.”

  “I’ve never lied to you, and I’m not going to start now.”

  “Yeah?” Rubbing his lips to hers, he licked her mouth and asked, “Are you wet?”

  “Yes.” Shocked by her honest admission, she hung her face and looked away.

  “Don’t play with me, ’cause you’re gonna lose. I’ll come in there and see for myself.”

  “What do you expect me to say, no? And then you come in here find out I am and feel vindicated? What is it you want, Mr. Nash? Just tell me and be done with it.”

  He let her go suddenly, and she stumbled back.

  “What’s in these things?” He held up the two slim metal cylinders well out of her reach.

  “Inoculate. The other has two micros, the directions for how to make the inoculate and how to deliver it. There’s also a pill.”

  “What’s the pill?”

  “A suicide pill. I had planned to use it on myself, but obviously I won’t do that now.” She touched her belly, then looked away, ashamed she’d actually considered using it to thwart Roberts. Now that she had a child, an innocent, Jynx couldn’t even contemplate such an act.

  “How did you know you were gonna need this?”

  “Something just never felt quite right to me. The closer we came to the answer, the more that feeling gnawed at me. I wanted insurance, a backup, something.” The twin tubes seemed terribly small in Foster’s hand. “I need to get the rest to someone who will fight off what Roberts is planning. I think I’m wasting my time asking you, but grant me a dying wish and take that to possibly the only person who could launch a successful campaign against the IWOG military.”

  “Who?”

  “Michael ‘Overlord’ Parker.”

  “What makes you think he gives a shit about the whole of humanity?”

  “I don’t. But I’ll bet he cares a great deal about himself and keeping his empire intact. If nothing else, he’ll save his planet.” Grimly, she admitted, “I can’t save everybody, but at least I can save some.” Jynx looked up and caught his gaze. “Somehow, saving the man the IWOG despises almost as much as me seems entirely apropos.”

  Determined to keep his focus, Foster struggled to comprehend why Jynx had told him the truth. Hell, she told him why. Since she couldn’t save everybody, she tried to save as many people as she could.

  “What a martyr you are.” Even knowing she was for real, he still pushed just a bit more.

  “Why? Because I don’t want everybody to die?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Trust is for suckers, right? Why should you trust me? Why should Michael? For all you know, I could be handing you purified virus, not inoculate. Maybe I am what Roberts has said all along. A sick, destructive mental defective who wants to kill everyone because…oops. See. There’s the problem. Why, Mr. Nash? Roberts hasn’t actually come up with a plausible reason for my insanity, right? Why do I want to kill everyone, including myself? Oh, wait, I don’t need a reason. I’m insane. Pretending for sixteen years to care about people so I can actually kill them all. After healing their cuts and broken bones, their battered bodies, bringing their children into the world. I did all of that only so I could obliterate them later.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had this?”

  “Are you playing the part of the hurt lover now?” Jynx threw her hands in the air and laughed. “Honestly, Mr. Nash, I didn’t tell you right away because I was a bit intimidated to tell you about my plan to save the universe when you were convinced I wanted to do the opposite and destroy it. Admit it. When you first took me prisoner, you believed Roberts, that I created the Tyaa plague. I can’t even imagine what your face would have looked liked if I told you the truth that my goal, my raison d’etre, was to save trillions upon trillions of sentient beings from it. I didn’t want you to think I was suffering from delusions of grandeur. Frankly, I know for a fact I am. I’m fooling myself. I’ll be lucky if I can help you walk away from this, let alone anyone else.”

  He couldn’t believe she still wanted to help him even after all the hateful things he’d said.

  “If you wanted to save everyone, why the suicide pill? Too afraid to save yourself?” Foster probed a tender spot because he wanted to know why she would kill herself. What did she think her death would accomplish?

  “I didn’t want to suffer at Roberts’s hands.” Her voice grew cold and cutting. “Once delivered, my work safely in someone’s hands, I would have killed myself rather than let Roberts have one sick taste of pleasure from killing me as a public spectacle.”

  All along she could have killed herself or slipped the pill to him. It scared the crap out of him that she’d had a deadly weapon tucked into her bra the entire time.

  “I’m going to die in a very nasty, bloody and public way. Roberts is going to execute me with the media watching. I was hoping to avoid that.”

  “You would kill yourself to avoid the indignity of a public execution?” His survival instinct would force him to fight to the bitter end.

  “Not much, I know. But something. Denying Roberts that sick pleasure. Only thing I could think of, since I’d never live to see whether I succeeded in saving anyone. But now…” Jynx didn’t touch her belly. She didn’t have to. Foster knew she thought of the child waiting there. Growing there. Trusting her to protect it. And she would. Or die trying. Jynx wouldn’t kill herself now.

  Foster actually lifted his hand to his key ring, plucked out the key to her cell with a knowing finger. Darkness fell around him like a black blanket tossed over his head. Startling back, he yanked his gun from his hip, flicked off the safety and kept it pointed to the floor as he waited, breathing deep in the dark.

  From the right, he heard Jynx say, “It’s just the ship giving me nighttime, remember? Sixteen/eight split. Annoying, isn’t it? Good luck finding your way to the door. It’s by the red light over there. Try not to shoot yourself in the foot on your way out.” Her voice held no malice, only a weary resignation and a bit of mocking that he’d forgotten the rhythm of his own ship.

  He heard her moving in the dark off to his right.

  After she brushed her teeth, covers ruffled as she climbed into bed. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

  “Maybe I’m going to come in there and sleep with you.”

  “With that big old gun and those shiny keys? I doubt it.” Jynx rolled over and snuggled in with a sigh.

  Gun drawn, he still stood in the dark. Listening. Her breathing rate slowed. To his shock, a slow giggle came from her bunk. “Holster your gun and go to bed, Foster. Or go play with your ship. Or yourself. Whatever. Just go.”

  Gritting his teeth, he said, “Lights.”

  Every light in the room blazed.

  Jynx shot up out of bed, holding the blanket to her chest.

  With a deliberate finger, he flipped the safety on, then holstered his weapon. He took off his equipment belt, dumped it in one of the cages, then plucked out the two metal cylinders, tossed them on the bed, exited, and said, “Lock number four.”

  With a snick, the cage locked down when he closed the door.

  “Open number six.”

  A smart click.

  Foster strode over to her cell door and yanked it open. He grinned at her shocked face. “What did you say to me?”

  Jynx gulped. She had no idea Foster could order his ship around like that. She’d giggled at the thought she’d get to go to bed on the sounds of him stumbling out of the dark cell room. The situation wasn’t nearly so funny now that he was staring at her with
a curious tilt to his head, while standing less than three strides from where she stood by her bunk, clutching a useless blanket to her chest like a flimsy shield.

  He took a step. “What did you say to me?”

  “Nothing I’d care to repeat.”

  Devoid of emotion, he laughed in a sharp burst. “Smart move.” He took another step.

  Jynx backed up.

  “Where’re you gonna go, Sweets?” He took another step.

  Darting a glance behind her, she backed up another step and realized she almost stood in the shower. Getting desperate and afraid, she hissed, “Stop it.”

  “What’s wrong? It’s not so funny now?”

  Big and hulking, riddled with bulging muscles that strained against faded jeans and a worn steel-blue T-shirt, Foster looked anything but funny. Summer-blue eyes turned dark azure as he pinned her with a lethal gaze. One solid burst of energy and he could tear her apart. Or worse. One little touch of his finger and he could force her surrender.

  “Funny? No. Not anymore. I apologize, Mr. Nash. Now please leave my cell.”

  “I got serious issues with being laughed at.” Foster closed the distance between them and lifted his hand to the blanket. “I don’t think this is going to help you much.” He yanked it from her hands and tossed it aside. “Other thing I got serious issues with is someone giving me orders on my ship.”

  Jynx startled back into the shower. “I’m not ordering you to leave I’m—asking.” Heaven help her, she’d beg him if he’d just go away. If he thought he intimidated her he was right, he did, but it excited her too. Dear God, she was insane! She still wanted him even knowing it was just a game to him.

  He looked around the shower. “I’ve got a nice memory of this room. You all naked and wet, and me with all my clothes on.”

  She remembered with hot clarity. “You busted your scanner, didn’t you?” Keeping her voice bright, she hoped to distract him. For what, she wasn’t sure, but distracting him seemed like a good start to a plan.

  “That’s right. I’ll have to charge Roberts extra for that.” He trapped her with his arms. “Busted my scanner in the line of duty. Hazard pay, I think.”

  “And what of bedding me? Is that hazard pay as well?”

  “No.” Foster pressed her back to the wall, molded his body to hers as he forced her chin up. “That’s what they call bonus.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Foster gazed down into her eyes. Despite the brightness of the lights, her pupils were dilated. Even in the relative darkness of the semi-enclosed shower, they seemed bigger than they should. She didn’t tense away but surrendered, melting against him. Ruthless bastard aside, Jynx still wanted him.

  As if she realized what she was doing, she tightened and leaned back. “I think you’ve done enough to earn your bonus, don’t you?” Despite her fear, she kept her gaze to his as she pressed against the plastic shower cell wall.

  Jynx didn’t try to get away because she knew she couldn’t. Foster held her so fully pinned, if she moved at all she’d make a whole lot of friction. Just thinking about it made Foster hard. Rather than pull away, he pressed closer, nudging her belly with his erection.

  “I think I should wring from you everything you’re willing to give.” Lowering his face, he brushed his cheek along hers as he slid his lips to her ear. “Taste every last bit of a beautiful, educated, smart and sexy IWOG lady.”

  “Who’s pregnant.”

  She looked triumphant when he pulled back.

  “You think that bothers me? That you’re knocked up?” Foster touched her belly with a possessive hand. “I don’t care. I want you willing. I wanna make you feel good.” Foster bit along her neck and teased the curve of her breast.

  Reluctantly, she moaned.

  “I only know what you told me about the guy, but I’ll bet I’m a hell of a lot better at stoking your fire than he was.” Foster slid his hand lower, stroking his fingers across the edge of her bellybutton. “Don’t lie to me. Sex wasn’t like this with Brandt, was it?”

  “No.” She closed her eyes, horrified at her own honesty.

  “No. Not like this.” Swirling his fingers lower, Foster slid them between her legs, pushing just hard enough to elicit a groan. “It wasn’t like this because you never wanted quite as badly as you do now. You want me something fierce. Even knowing what a ruthless bastard I am.” Touching his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Tell me the truth, Jynx. You want me.”

  “Yes.” Her breathless admission struck him as strongly as if she’d bit him in a haze of passion.

  Fighting desperately for control, Foster knew this had nothing whatsoever to do with his grand plan to save her. This was strictly personal. He just wanted her one last time, and he wanted her willing because he couldn’t take her any other way.

  “Be my servant. Give yourself to me.”

  Jynx sucked down a deep breath that trembled with fear and need.

  “You want,” he encouraged. “So do I. What could it hurt? It isn’t like anyone is going to come knocking on the door, right?”

  “Stop throwing my words back in my face, Mr. Nash.” She reached out, grasped the edge of his button fly, yanked it hard and down, popping the buttons apart with a sharp thwhap.

  Instantly aroused by her aggression and her clear sign of agreement, Foster settled her hand around his silk-clad cock. “The smell of you, the taste of you, just the thought of you makes me hard.” Taking her hand up and down his length made him groan. “What could one more night hurt?”

  “One more night?” Jynx asked, cupping him. “Before you deliver me to the lion’s den?” Pressing her hand a bit harder, a bit tighter, leaning close, she asked, “One last night with the legendary Never-Fail Nash?” A part of her wanted to stroke him to critical mass as fast as she could, if only to feel triumphant by it. Another part wanted him to last the whole night through.

  One last time with him would be a bonus to her as much as it would be to him. Whether he told the truth or not, he would enjoy having sex with her for the same reasons she’d enjoy it with him. They seemed to be very good together. Jynx tried to force the fact that she loved him to the back of her mind as she just enjoyed the pleasure of his touch, but love got all tangled up in the sensations of her body and she finally just let it. What did it matter now? If she was a fool for love, she certainly wouldn’t be alive long enough to regret it.

  “I’ll be your servant once again, Foster, if you’ll be my master.”

  Rippling with power, his body pressed hers tight to the wall of her prison shower. “Call me Mr. Nash. You know I like that.” He pressed his hand firmly to the juncture of her thighs. All that stood between them was his mustard yellow T-shirt.

  Breathless, trying not to move, Jynx said, “Yes, Mr. Nash.”

  “Yes.” His voice mocked, trilling to her ear. “Lovely lady so corrupted. Let’s find out how much.” He pulled back. “Tell me what you want.”

  “Aren’t you changing the parameters of the game?” she asked with a coyly arched brow. “I thought you were in charge.” Lifting her head, she challenged him. Why was she doing this? Space crazy, she told herself, but then she told herself that it didn’t matter now. This wouldn’t change anything, but the truth was, she wanted to take one last plunge into the delicious pleasure he could fill her with. Brutal tender control. Jynx surrendered her body in full league with her heart and soul. “I am at your mercy, Mr. Nash.”

  “Mercy?”

  “If you have it. Mercy with control.”

  “Control?” He tasted the sharp tang of the word by rolling it in his mouth. He grabbed her hand and dragged her from the cell room, down the hall, past his bedroom to a room filled with art supplies.

  “What’s this?”

  “My studio. I like to paint. I’ve got an urge to paint you.”

  “You want me to pose for you? Now?”

  His eyes blazed. “Strip.”

  Startled at the harshness of his command, she hesitated for
a moment, then slipped off her robe. She stood before him dressed only in his ugly mustard yellow T-shirt with grease stains and a hole under the arm. Catching the hem, she went to pull it over her head.

  “Wait.” He ran his finger along the frayed collar. “I think it’s time to retire this battered relic.” Grasping it tight with his fists, he yanked and ripped it right down the center.

  His rough handling so shocked her, she reeled back. Foster caught the edges and pulled her against his rock-hard body.

  “What’s wrong? Too aggressive?” Lowering his lips to her ear, he gave her a sharp nip. “I thought you liked that about me.” Pressing her to him with the edges of his own ripped T-shirt, lifting her a bit so that her belly pressed against the painful erection in his boxers, which was prominently displayed by his unbuttoned jeans, Foster manipulated her body to his with a frightening finesse. “Only got to say stop.”

  Trying to keep her voice from coming out in a breathless whisper, Jynx shook her head, nodded yes, then said, “Tell me one thing.”

  “Maybe.” Biting and working his way along her neck, he tilted her head back, and asked, “What?”

  “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  Foster considered her face for a long time. “No. Told you once before I don’t want to hurt you.” Stroking his finger from her face to her nipple, twisting it gently between his forefinger and thumb, he said, “I want to make you feel good.” Lowering his head, he took one tight nipple to his mouth and sucked softly, urging it to a greater contraction. “You don’t like what I’m doing, you say stop. Better do it soon.”

  On a gasp, Jynx cradled his head to her breast. “Go.”

  Teasing her breasts with his mouth, his rough facial hair, he trailed his hand down to center on the wet heat between her legs. Rolling his fingertips in a soft circle caused her to whimper and cling to him. Loving the taste of her, the feel of her and that maddening scent of her, Foster struggled to simply torment her, to make her lose control while maintaining his own.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, placing his mouth to her other breast as he continued to finger her.