Respect must be earned, and Pilot hadn’t. I fully understood Marcus’s motives. Again, I couldn’t blame my husband. As I sat there thinking about what Pilot had disclosed, he continued, this time as though he lived in the event as though it was now.
* * *
I lifted the barrel of his blaster and pointed it at rebel number one. “This is the way we’re going to do this. You’re going to talk, or we’re going to hurt you.”
“Fuck you.” The rebel spat at my feet.
“Wrong answer.” I flicked the laser to stun and dropped the man to the dirt. “This is what happens when I don’t get what I want.” I looked up to make sure all the clone bastards were watching. “Let’s start with your hero friend. Anyone got anything to say I might want to hear?” Not even a whisper. Couldn’t say I was disappointed. “Didn’t think so.”
I squatted down and tied the rebel’s hands to one set of cables and his legs to another. I rose to my feet, made a motion in the air, and the hovers were started. Seconds later, the enemy soldier lifted from the ground and stretched between the vehicles.
He screamed.
“Put them in park.” I walked over to one of my men and yanked him from the machine, throwing him down into the dirt. “I have a job for you to do, and it doesn’t require you sitting on your ass. You’re going to get dirty.”
“President Axis gave us an order.”
“Unless you’d like to end up like the last person who questioned me, you’ll do as ordered. Try not to screw this up. I want the location of their camps, their leader, and the lovely Olivia Braun, and we will use whatever methods we have to in order to extract the information.” I pulled a knife from my pocket and snapped it open with the flick of the wrist then pressed it into the man’s hand. “Start with this prisoner.”
“But the disease.”
“Is the least of your worries. I suggest you gut him and do it with a smile.”
“The blood… he could be a carrier.”
“Not my problem.” I raised my weapon and pointed. “Insert it at his diaphragm and draw it down to his pelvis, but just slip it under the skin, you don’t want to kill him right away, just split him open like an overripe peach.”
The soldier eyed the man stretched out between the hovers and scrunched up his forehead. The hand that held the knife shook. “Sir?”
“It’s you or him. Better make your choice now. Do I make myself clear?”
The soldier nodded.
“I asked a question, Sergeant.”
“As mud.”
“Don’t defy me in front of my men again, or even suggest you take your orders from my brother. You won’t like the consequences.” I slapped him on the back. “What do you say we get this party started?”
* * *
“I’d known what I’d done,” Pilot said. “Every action I took was calculated and precise, made to usurp Marcus’s control and turn his men against him. They needed to know who their real leader was, and I made it clear, they would follow me or they wouldn’t like the alternative. Marcus’s actions made him look weak—mine on the other hand scared the obedience right into the men who thought to pledge allegiance to my brother. That’s the kind of leader the people of Aeropia want. I am a man of action who isn’t afraid to flex a little muscle to protect them.”
“A man of action? You’re a delusional psychopath, and, for your information, they’re not your people.”
“You hurt my feelings, Olivia. I thought we were friends.”
I snorted.
“It doesn’t matter. I will tell you something we’re not, though. We are not related by blood. Marcus and I are. He will choose me over you because of it.”
“Are you so sure? Your butt’s behind bars, too.”
“My brother always forgives and forgets when it comes to me. He has a little too much of his whore mother in him not to, and you, well he thinks you played the distraction so your clone boyfriend could kill an entire unit of his men. Go ahead, babe, throw those dice, take a gamble, and see where they land. You will come out a loser.”
I closed my eyes. I had no clue if Marcus would execute me, but… Pilot didn’t seem completely convinced he would. Why else say what he said? He was as uncertain as I. I stood up and began to pace. “What makes you even think I will have a chance to toss the dice, Pilot? You’re not 100 percent certain Marcus believes I betrayed him. Are you?”
Silence.
“Well,” I mumbled. “What do you know? Pilot has nothing to say for once.” I flopped down on my bunk and lay back. “Think I’ll take a nap now.”
“Knock yourself out, Olivia. Happy nightmares.”
6
I’ve often wondered about women caught in relationships with dangerous men, how they fell into it and loved someone who could kill. I’d always believed Axel would never hurt me, even though I knew others, those that stood in his way, he’d crush with little thought. And perhaps this was why I’d walked into the camp, wearing the uniform of one of the Butcher’s soldiers, after betraying Axel by kissing Marcus, certain I would be okay.
Marcus showed mercy, where Axel wouldn’t have. I had been surprised he wasn’t the beast I’d expected. Whatever the reason, my choice weighed heavy on my conscience, and by the time I reached the perimeter of our settlement, my stomach had knotted from the guilt. I would confess my sins, beg Axel’s forgiveness, and repair the relationship that had begun to decay the last few months.
One thing I realized on my walk home. If I didn’t love him, it wouldn’t have bothered me. And oh, how it had bothered me. By the time I’d entered our encampment, I was sick from thinking about what I’d done, how I’d betrayed his trust.
As I approached the center of our camp, I noticed somber faces. I heard the cries of children and women. Anguish. It stopped me mid-stride. I glanced around, taking in the scene before me, funeral piers, wood stacked under bodies. I began to count, stopping on the last, and sixth. Six? What happened?
The woman standing beside the last pier, the wife of Axel’s third in command, a woman who’d had dinner with us on countless occasions, one I’d called friend, turned toward me. She looked too stunned to speak, but it didn’t stop her. She lifted her hand and pointed. At me.
“Traitor.” She collapsed against the wood supporting the corpse of her husband, screaming over and over again. “Killer, killer, killer.”
“No.” I shook my head and swallowed. People, friends, my family began to gather around me. I shook my head again. I’d had nothing to do with these deaths, but for some reason they thought me responsible. “I didn’t…”
“Where have you been, Olivia? My scouts say you’ve come from a clearing where an enemy aircraft landed.”
I startled and spun around to find Axel behind me with his second, Nolan. His gaze traveled from my face, to my new boots, and back up. My heart went into a drum roll. The uniform I’m wearing. Was new. Clean. There was no way I’d picked it off a dead Aeropite, that much couldn’t be more obvious. I needed to explain and quick. But what else had the scouts seen? Had they seen me kiss my husband?
“I…”
“What are you wearing?” He spoke softly, but his voice carried enough menace he could have been shouting.
I shivered. He reached out and grabbed my arm, lifting it, studying the black fabric of the uniform. He dropped it and prowled around me, stopping by my shoulder, looking at the patch on my sleeve. Before I could open my mouth to explain, he reached up and ripped the sleeve from the uniform. It dropped to my feet, but I didn’t look at it. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Axel.
He leaned in and sniffed. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“I know what this looks like.” I knew he didn’t mean the clothes. He could smell another man. Marcus. I wore the scent of another man and had no excuse. None.
“Do you?” He ran his palm up and down my now bare arm. The crowd around us moved closer. “Do you know what happened today while you were gone?”
“No.” I
pressed my hand to my breast to still the thumping under my ribs. “I can explain.”
“Shut up!”
I jumped but wisely kept my mouth closed. I’d never heard him raise his voice, even to his enemy. He’d always had a calm tone, until now. The fury radiated off him. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his fingers curl and his hand form a fist. I’d never seen him so angry—and so controlled.
“Six of my men were murdered by the man whose uniform you wear.”
“It wasn’t him.” I realized, too late, the mistake. If I could take it back, I would. “Axel. You have to listen to me.”
“No, I don’t.”
The man standing next to him swung the butt of an enemy soldier’s blaster, connecting with the side of my head. Stars exploded across my field of view, and I dropped to my knees. Nolan raised it to strike again.
“Stop!” Axel tore it from his grip and flung it across the camp.
“You know the punishment for treason,” Nolan said. “My men spotted her walking out of the clearing right after that ship took flight. That looked like the Butcher’s personal vessel. She’s a traitor, liar, and whore.”
“I haven’t questioned her yet, and I decide what she is and isn’t.” Axel reached down and wrenched me to my feet. The world spun, and I blinked, attempting to clear the blood from my eyes with little result. He leaned in and pressed his lips to my ear. “You shouldn’t have come back like this.” Axel shoved me at Nolan and stepped away. “Secure her until I can decide what to do with her, and don’t beat her to death.”
I moaned and wobbled. Reaching up, I touched the sticky fluid. My vision fuzzed. “Axel?” Secure me? There it was—my legs gave, and I fell. I could do nothing to stop it. Any of it.
This was not how I’d imagined my death.
* * *
I awoke tied to the central pole that held my tent up. They’d stripped off the uniform I’d worn into camp. I now sat in my bra and underwear, waiting for Axel to pass judgment. Off to the left, there was movement. I turned my face but couldn’t see who. My eye had swollen in response to the strike. I swallowed, amazed they hadn’t executed me. Yet.
The bodies on the funeral piers appeared to be in pieces, but I’d only gotten a brief glance at them. The smell of blood in the air and the looks on the family members’ faces confirmed in my mind how horribly they’d died. I knew it wasn’t Marcus’s handiwork, but another’s. But it didn’t mean he hadn’t ordered it. They were right—I’d betrayed them all.
“Why?” Axel’s deep voice greeted me.
I flinched. That one word contained so much pain, it hurt to hear it. “I went to get parts for the EM shield generator. He caught me but let me go. When I ran, I tripped, knocked myself out on the pavement. I woke up in the city.”
“In that uniform?”
“Naked.”
“Did you fuck him?” Almost whispered. I wasn’t sure he’d said it until he repeated his question. “Did you have sex with him?” Louder this time. No doubt left as to what he’d asked.
I opened my mouth, ready to spew something nasty, angry at the accusation then realized the pain from what I’d done drove him to ask. This was not a man who wanted to kill me; this was a man fighting tears, choking back emotion he didn’t want anyone to see.
I’d betrayed him. He knew it. I knew it, even if it went no further than kissing. I’d broken his heart, and I’d done it in front of his men, our friends, and family. How could I expect him to think anything but with the way I’d walked into camp? “No.”
“I don’t know what to do with you.”
“Let me go.”
“Let you go? I spent the four hours before you walked into camp dressed like Marcus’s harlot explaining to the families of my dead men that what they did would help us all, that everything they’d suffered would not be in vain.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand sorry, Olivia. How do I explain to them that you didn’t betray us? How? Please tell me because I don’t know how to save you this time.” He sucked in a staggered breath. “How do I let you go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I. They want you executed.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“They don’t see it that way.” He walked in front of me and squatted down. Six foot six inches of lean, hard muscle, as graceful and deadly as a tiger, reached up and skimmed fingers along my cheek with a gentleness I didn’t deserve. He touched where I was certain an ugly bruise sat. “Olivia.” He cupped my chin, lifting my gaze to his, studying me for several heartbeats. “Tell me how to stop loving you.” He wore emotions he’d withheld his entire life on his face in that moment and a knife to the chest couldn’t have hurt me worse.
“I can’t.”
Axel traced my mark. “I forbade you the city because of this. I didn’t want you hurt, raped, or killed. Do you have any idea what he could have done to you—what I have to do now?”
I swallowed. I had an idea, had seen the crying women and children, knew all too well what had been at stake. I had been lucky they didn’t kill me when they first saw me. It wouldn’t be easy. Whatever punishment he chose would be bad.
“You were my everything.” He paused, and the muscle in his jaw ticced. “Did you feel something for him? Want him?”
“Were?” Everything else he’d said faded away. One little word brought my life crashing down around me. Past tense—as in no longer. I closed my eyes, hardly able to believe what had come from his mouth. We’d lived, fought, and loved together for the last few years. This was it, the end of our romance—even if it had felt in decline the last few months, I wasn’t ready to let go. It terrified me. “Please.”
“You’ve broken our laws. This can’t go unpunished. I’m unable to make any exceptions, no matter how much I’d like to. Several died today. Their wives and children are out there. You can’t stay. How will I explain your betrayal to your people? If you had killed him, I could forgive you. They could forgive you. But this? This is nothing but treason. He’s alive, and we know this because my men are dead.”
“I…”
“Shut your mouth before I have you executed.”
I clamped my teeth together and began to shake. I’d seen the kind of justice Axel dispensed and didn’t want to be on the receiving end. His demeanor grew colder. This was a side I’d never thought to see directed at me.
Rage.
“You no longer carry the honor to wear that mark.”
I yanked my face from his grip. Honor. We chose to wear them to remain separate from our enemies, an enemy we no longer needed to be divided from. Getting that mark had nothing to do with honor, but I’d more than earned it, and he had no right, none at all, to take it away. It was as much a part of me as he had been.
For several moments, we held each other’s gaze. I waited for him to take it all back, say this was a big mistake, that he’d find a way. He was my everything—my hero—but this time, he didn’t save me. He looked away, turned his back to me and the entrance to our tent.
“Axel.”
“Don’t. I have no choice. If I don’t do this, they’ll demand your death.” He turned back to me. “Forgive me for what I have to do. Your mark is to be cut from your face, and you will be cast outside our society. You’re dead to us.” Pain flashed through his eyes. “To me.” He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something further then shut it and took a deep breath. “Nolan,” he called for his second, the man who’d struck me when I walked into the camp earlier.
That day, I became invisible. Again. I had no one to blame but myself.
Beaten, dressed in the torn death-squad uniform, I ran as my former friends and the only family I had left drove me from my home with bricks and rocks. They’d taken my boots and forced me to flee in my bare feet. My soles were mangled from traveling across the crumbling ruins and sliced by glass and stone. After what seemed like hours, I sank down on a boulder by a stream and dipped the bleeding fles
h into the icy water.
It stung. I cried out and rocked back and forth. How it hurt, but nothing compared to the pain of losing the one man I’d loved with all my heart, one I’d decided hours before to patch things up with. Times of laughter and whispered conversations flashed through my mind. Palm to palm, we’d danced, staring into each other’s eyes as we circled round and round.
Another memory flitted by where we laughed at an awkward sex scene in one of my mother’s romance novels. I squeezed my eyes shut, and a tear rolled down my cheek. I woke in a bed of blooms, kissed Axel for the first time. I reached up and touched my lips, as though it had happened moments before. I could taste the mint on his breath, see the smile and the dimple in his cheek he scoffed at when I told him it made him look adorable.
In another memory, he carried me across a stream piggyback as I squealed for him not to drop me.
Flash forward. We made love on a summer night under a full moon, a bed of moss all we needed. “Marry me, Olivia.”
No clan would have me. They were forbidden to even look at me. To aid me was to suffer my fate. I had nowhere to go. I dropped to my side on the warm boulder. My face throbbed and burned where they’d cut the mark off. The crude stitches pulled, and the wound ached without ointment of any kind to treat it and keep it from drying out. It felt hot and the tears pouring from my eyes acted like salt on the raw edges of flesh. I curled into a ball and began to cry. How could I go on without him?
Every inch of my body displayed abrasions, scratches, and bruises every color in the spectrum, from purple and blue to green and yellow. Several of my wounds had already begun to fester. I knew my face would have the worst of the bruising and infection. A scar could not be avoided and most likely would not matter.
Outcasts didn’t live long outside the clan. If the elements didn’t get me, the hungry beasts of the jungle or the death squads would. As I leaned forward and looked into the water, my reflection stared back. As I’d thought the damage would be, maybe a little worse.
The Book of Olivia Page 9