It’s not my first flight. It’s not even my hundredth. I’ve flown every single day since my ship arrived. For hours, most days, with my pilot instructor, at first. Then on my own. I’ve circled the planet dozens of times. I’ve shadowed transports and cargo ships as far from the station as my father would let me go.
But I’ve never been through the pyro-shield. And I’ve never landed anywhere other than the docking bay, except in the flight simulator.
It’ll be fine.
Sure, Kenny had logged thousands of hours in a patrol shuttle, and he wasn’t able to save our vehicle when the engine went out. But that’s not going to happen this time. This is a brand new, top of the line mini-cruiser. Registered in my name, with my new, valid citizen ID number.
Nothing is going to go wrong.
As I approach the pyro-shield, the four pillars defining the gate blink, and the rectangle between them begins to shimmer. Then it disappears. My dad has given my ship automatic permission to enter the Rhodon atmosphere, but he’ll have to let me back out manually. Which is part of the reason he’s monitoring the trip.
The rest of the reason is that he’s worried about me. Which is the only normal aspect of his parenting style.
As soon as I’m through the shield, I tap my wrist com and activate the private link to the one I left with my mother. “Wendy? I’m inbound. ETA is nineteen minutes.”
“Good morning, hon. You sound so official.” I can hear pride in her voice, and it makes me smile. Until I remember that after today, I’ll never see her again.
“Is everything all set up?”
“Just like you asked,” she says.
“Great. Thank you. I’ll see you in a few.” I end the connection.
I feel oddly sentimental as I fly over the crimson landscape. I only spent five days on the surface, but they totally changed my life. Now, the girl who crash-landed here on her first departure from Station Alpha is certified to pilot a long-range mini-cruiser. She’s registered for university classes via remote access. She has a mother. And she’s four months pregnant with a healthy, rapidly growing baby who will never know what it’s like to want for anything.
My nav equipment is programmed to guide me to zone four, and when it comes into sight, the screen lights up with a blinking outline of the zone. A couple of minutes later, Settlement B appears in my windshield. I can’t see the women yet, but I know they’re waiting for me. Wendy says they all want to say goodbye, even though I’ve never met most of them. I’ve been sending them care packages, and because of that, I guess they kind of feel like they know me.
The feeling is mutual.
My pulse spikes as I begin my descent, glad that from here, I can’t see the patch of woods where Kenny died. My mini-cruiser has an auto-landing feature, and I decide to use it, despite my fifty successful simulator landings, just in case.
I lock on to the landing site on screen, then press a button. Immediately the cruiser takes over, gliding toward the target, where it hovers for a second, then begins a vertical descent. The landing gear drops, and my ship touches down with a soft bump. My heart hammering in my chest, I unbuckle and race through the cruiser, then slam my hand down on the big red button that manually lowers the ramp.
It takes forever to unfold. Or maybe I’m just irrationally impatient.
Finally, the end of the ramp thumps into the dirt, and I peek out cautiously before I disembark. Dozens of women are headed toward me from the settlement, with my mother in the lead. I race toward them and pull her into a hug, and the moment she lets me go, the other women start talking. Introducing themselves.
Leda thanks me for the yeast kit and extra packets of fruit. Katherine is thrilled with the ponytail holders and spare sets of underwear.
Everyone else loves the matches, and ponchos, and antibiotics, and all the other things I’ve snuck into their drop over the past sixteen weeks. They’re excited to see me—to meet me for the first time—but they’re also sad to see me go. And along with me, the perks.
“Guys, I brought you something,” I tell them, one arm wrapped around my mother’s waist. “There’s a crate onboard marked with orange tape. In the cargo area, just to the right of the ramp.”
“Mary, Jillian, go get it,” my mother orders, and two of the larger women jog onto my ship. A moment later, they’re back, carrying the crate between them. “Equal distribution,” Wendy calls, as the women descend upon the crate.
Then I pull her aside. “Where is he?” She points, and I turn to see Jai standing in the doorway of a building across the crumbling street. Looking…shocked.
“Rayla?” He starts toward me slowly. “What are you doing here? Did you just pilot a ship?”
“Yes.” I close the space between us and throw my arms around him. For a second, he just stands there, still stiff with shock. Then his arms wind around me and he squeezes me. Hard.
“Wendy said she had a surprise for me, but I thought she meant something from the supply drop.” He studies the ship, and the light in his eyes goes dim. “You’re leaving, aren’t you? He’s finally letting you go?”
“Yes. I’m leaving.” I wait a heartbeat. Then I grin at him. “But you’re coming with me.”
Jai blinks at me. “What?”
“You’re coming with me. I mean, if you want to. Unless you’ve…moved on.” I glance back at all the women watching us. “It’s totally fine, if you have. I mean—”
“I couldn’t move on from you if I tried.” Jai kisses me, and it’s like the past four months never happened. It’s like I never left. “So how is…? What…?” He begins when that kiss finally ends. “Say more words, Rayla. What’s going on?”
I laugh. “My dad decided to do the right thing. The mini-cruiser is mine. I have a valid citizen ID number and a pilot’s license. And I have new credentials for you, if you want in on this. Oh, and there’s a tattoo removal machine on board! To take care of that pesky inmate number. Unless you just want me to wrap your hand in medical tape for the rest of your life.”
Now Jai’s laughing, his eyes shining as he tries to process everything I’m telling him. “The rest of my life? So this is real?”
“Entirely real. We can go wherever we want. But we can’t ever come back here. So, you either have to come with me now, or stay here forever. It’s your choice. My only condition is no more lying. From either of us. We tell the truth to each other. Always.”
“Like I’d ever say no to that. To any of it.”
“So, you’re in?” I can’t quite believe it.
“I’m in.” He squeezes me tight again, and when I let him go, he’s staring at the side of the ship, where the name I’ve given it is painted in beautiful scrolling letters. “Just one question. Who’s Rosalie?”
“That’s what Wendy would have called me, if she’d been able to keep me.” I let one hand fall to my stomach, and his gaze follows. “It’s also what I’ve decided to call your daughter.”
“My…?” Jai’s eyes widen. “What? Don’t mess with me, princess. It was only a couple of times.”
“I’m serious. Feel. I mean, she’s not kicking yet, but you can totally feel the bump.” I press his hand against the new bulge in my stomach, and his eyes widen.
“Oh my god,” he whispers, and I can practically feel his wonder. His excitement. “And you already know it’s a girl?”
I nod. “I found out last month. She’s perfectly healthy. Due in almost five months. With any luck, that’ll be enough time for us to get settled somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Except your homeworld. We can’t go where people might recognize you.”
“That’s no problem. The only people I want to see are you.” His gaze captures mine, then slides toward my stomach, where he places his hand again. “And you, little Rosalie!”
“Then it’s settled,” Wendy says. “You two are getting off this rock and never coming back. And you’re going to give my granddaughter the world. Whichever world you land on
, anyway.”
I turn from Jai and give my mother another hug. “I just met you,” I say into her hair. “It doesn’t feel right to be leaving already.”
“But it is right. Get out of here. Go start your life. Give that baby a good future. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a whole town full of ‘daughters’ to keep me company.”
“Okay,” I say as I let her go. I know she’s right. But as I lead Jai onto the cruiser, I can’t keep my eyes from watering.
“Is that a bedroom?” he asks, while I buckle myself in and begin the preflight checklist.
“Yeah. This is a long-range mini-cruiser. Like a little apartment, traveling at light speed. Once we’re out of orbit, you can take a shower, if you want.”
“But there’s a bedroom. For you and me. With an honest-to-god bed.”
I laugh as he sinks into the chair across from me. “With sheets and everything. Buckle up.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” he says as he straps himself into the chair. “I can’t believe you came back for me. Rayla.” He catches my hand, before I can pull up the next item on the checklist. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So don’t fuck this up.” I’m smiling. But I mean it. “We started off on the wrong foot, but we have to get it right from now on. For Rosalie.”
He nods, and the look in his eye gives me butterflies. “Any chance you could teach me how to do this? How to fly this thing?”
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll teach you everything there is to know in here, and you teach me everything there is to know in there.” I point through the cargo area toward the bedroom.
His gaze seems to devour me, setting me on fire in all the right places. “Oh, princess. You have no idea what you just asked for.”
But I am damn well going to find out.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading Dirty Lies!
I only intended for this to be a 30,000 word novella, but as you can see it wound up at more than 50,000 words. Jai and Rayla were so much fun to write, and they just kept talking to me!
Every story is different, even on a prison planet, and I felt like after the darkness of Sylvie and Graham’s story in Champion, we needed something a little lighter, but still sexy. Something short and fun. I hope this story has filled that need.
But there are more full-length novels coming! The next one will be Hostage, Sebastian and Kaya’s book. Turn the page for a sneak peek!
If you’d like more information about me or the Prison Planet series, you can find me on in my FB group, my Facebook page, Goodreads, BookBub, and at www.emmychandler.com. For alerts about new releases, please sign up for my newsletter!
Emmy
HOSTAGE
Prison Planet book 5
“I have to get my sister off this planet, and you’re the only leverage I have.”
Sebastian Wolfe got himself sentenced to death by combat on the prison planet Rhodon in order to protect his sister, Sylvie. As last season’s champion, she was released into the open population, and if he prevails this season, he’ll be allowed to join her. And at first, that was the plan.
Then, at an airborne afterparty following the first fight of the season, Sebastian seizes a chance to crash the ship into zone three, planning to escape the wreckage and join his sister early—until fate throws Kaya Johnston into his path.
Kaya would have died upon impact if Sebastian hadn’t bailed from the doomed yacht with her in his arms, but that’s no reason to go all weak in the knees. He’s the one who crashed the ship in the first place! Now she’s stranded on a prison planet, barefoot and ill-equipped, with only a gorgeous, protective death row inmate who’s declared her his hostage—yet seems to think of her as much more.
Sebastian drags her deep into zone three in search of Sylvie, so he can demand an escape vehicle in exchange for his captive. But after a few days alone with Kaya, he might be unwilling to ever give his beautiful, compassionate hostage up…
Turn the page for a sneak peek at Hostage!
Hostage
1
SEBASTIAN
“Earth to Sebastian,” Kaya says, and I turn away from the window to find her standing next to me, holding a half-full flute of champagne. Her hair is pulled back into its usual prim bun, but her navy pencil skirt is tight enough that I can see every curve of her ass. The second button of her blouse has come open, which means I can almost see cleavage.
She must not have noticed the button yet. Kaya never intentionally leaves more than one of them undone.
“What did you say about Earth?” I ask, resisting the urge to look down her blouse. The voices and the clinking of glass from the cocktail party are an intrusion, and I’m not sure I heard her right.
She shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s something my dad used to say when I was a kid. I was a bit of a daydreamer, and when he caught me staring into space, he’d say, ‘Earth to Kaya! Come in Kaya!’” She imitates a staticky voice, as if her dad is speaking to her over an archaic shortwave radio. Then she shrugs. “Doesn’t have quite the same ring, here on Rhodon.”
“I guess not.” And I’d had no idea she was from Earth.
I turn back to the window, as much to stop myself from obsessing about that second undone button as to study the ground below. Though I’m doing that too. Unfortunately, we’re cruising too high over the darkened landscape for me to see much.
“Sebastian, you’ve been staring out the window for a while,” Kaya says. “We should probably work the room.”
The “room” is actually the lowest level of a space yacht we prisoners call “the blimp.” It’s a party boat capable of traveling from system to system as well as cruising at low altitude within the atmosphere of a celestial body.
That celestial body, in this case, is the prison planet Rhodon. Also known as the Red Rock because of the crimson tint of its foliage and soil, Rhodon is the armpit of the universe, and an odd choice for a flying cocktail party. Unless you’re one of the sadistic fucks drinking and gossiping behind me, who’re willing to spend a small fortune to fly across the galaxy to watch two people beat each other to death in person, rather than on the feeds.
That’s what happened this afternoon. I beat a man to death in the arena, in front of both a live and a broadcast audience, because that’s what inmates sentenced to death by combat do: kill or be killed. I had no choice. Yet I can still feel the ghost of his throat beneath my hands as they squeeze. I can still see his mouth gaping open, sucking at air, but unable to pull any into his lungs. I can still hear the cheering of the crowd.
And now that the violence is over, the aforementioned sadistic fucks get to relive the event in all its gory splendor by partying on a space yacht with the victor.
“Sebastian? Do you need anything?” Kaya asks. Because that’s part of her job. Technically, as my sponsorship liaison, her chief duty is to secure corporate patronage to pay for my medical care and any weapons provided for me in the arena. Without those, my life expectancy decreases significantly. But she also decides how miscellaneous sponsorship credits are spent on me off camera. Which is usually in the form of fresh food and various toiletries in the greenroom.
As a civilian fighter, before I was a convicted criminal, my endorsement deals were for personal profit. Wear a sponsor’s workout gear on camera, get two hundred thousand credits deposited into my account. And there were other perks. Clothes. Tech. Women. Travel. My own personal short-range shuttle.
That feels like another life. Like it happened to someone else.
Some days, it’s hard to believe I gave it all up. That I got myself sent here on purpose. For my sister. To protect Sylvie. The reality here is day-to-day survival—fighting for my life, rather than for profit—and most of the time, everything that came before this feels like a half-forgotten dream.
“Water?” Kaya says. “Or juice? I might be able to find orange. Or tomato.”
“I’m fine.” That’s an outright lie, because Kaya can
’t get me anything I really need. Freedom. Respect. Hell, she can’t even get me a real drink at a cocktail party supposedly thrown in my honor, without risking her job.
An inmate gladiator makes for tantalizing party entertainment, unless you arm him or give him alcohol.
“Well then, we need to mingle. That’s why you’re here.”
Just once, I wish they’d bring me up on the blimp before sundown, so I could actually see the surface of this miserable planet. My sister’s down there somewhere, in zone three. As last season’s champion, her sentence was commuted from death to life in the open population, and I would give anything for a glimpse of her. Not that I’d be able to tell it was her, from this height. But if I could see the other inmates and the buildings, at least I’d have some idea what she’s up against.
“She’s fine, Sebastian.” Kaya steps closer to peer out the window with me, and the scent of her perfume is so familiar that I’m reaching for her before I even realize my hands have moved. I force my arms back to my sides—I can’t touch her in front of all these people—and my hands curl into fists from the effort to resist. “But I’m not sure that’s zone three.” She points across the large ballroom taking up the entire lower level of the blimp, toward one of the windows on the other side. “I think zone three is that way. We should be flying directly over it in about half an hour.”
When she turns back to me, I get another whiff of her perfume, and I have to fight the urge to lean into her. To breathe deeper. Before this morning, it had been six weeks since I’d smelled that fragrance, because Kaya and the rest of the filming crew don’t come around during the hiatus between broadcast seasons. But her scent triggers a familiar forbidden urge, as if it hasn’t been weeks since I saw her. Since I kissed her and almost got her fired.
Dirty Lies Page 16