by Alison Aimes
She took a step back, the certainty in his voice, in his guilt, in his conviction that he wasn’t worth saving, raising her own doubts. “I don’t….” She honestly wasn’t sure how to respond, but there was one thing she did know for sure. “Whatever happened in the past, you can't use that device to bring down another shuttle. That would make you a monster.”
His hands fisted by his side. “I’m going for some air.” He stalked toward the door.
“But there’s a dust storm. You can’t go out in that.”
“It’s settling now.”
She couldn’t let this drop. She couldn’t let him dodge this issue because she feared his disapproval or worse. “I won’t let you use this thing on another shuttle like mine.”
He paused with his hand on the door handle, his back still to her. “People can change, huh?”
“Yes.” Relief whispered through her. Maybe she’d reached him after all.
“You sure you believe that, fighter girl?” He looked over his shoulder, his jaw tight. “Because I never said I built that device intending to bring down a shuttle.”
She opened her mouth to respond. Nothing came out.
“That kind of stuff is for sadists like 225 and his pack,” he continued. “I might be a killer and a criminal, but I’m not like them. I planned on using my jammer to seize control of one of the unmanned droids that dump trash twice a year. More recently though, I was trying to get it to jam a device similar to itself so we could stop 225, save your precious search and rescue team, and get you the hell off Dragath25.”
He shut the door firmly behind him.
It didn’t escape her notice he’d only mentioned her departure.
Or that the first time the tables were turned and he’d needed her to be his hero—to believe in him no matter what—she’d failed.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Breathing hard, Caine wedged the last of the boulders into place in front of the door.
Bella tried to keep her worry at bay. The storm had indeed settled down. But the tempest between her and Caine remained. He hadn’t gone far when he left, only just outside the cave entrance, but he’d stayed there a long while. He’d come inside caked in red dust only to inform her the weather had improved enough for him to go warn her colleagues. Then he started dragging in boulders the size of small planets.
It was clear he didn’t want to talk about what had happened before.
“Are you sure I can’t go with you?” She trailed in his wake, the distance between them as vast as ever. “You’re going to have a hard time getting them to listen without me there.”
“I’ll do my best.” He strapped a small knife to the pocket of his camo pants and seized his spear. Even before their argument, he’d been immoveable in his refusal to take her. She got it. She’d only slow him down when speed was of the essence. Still, she hated the idea that he was off to risk himself without her to watch his back. More so when things were so uneasy between them.
“If for some reason I can’t make it back in a few hours,” he said, “there are additional glow sticks in the third drawer from the top. There’s also enough dried food in the kitchen to last a lifetime.”
“But you’ll be back way before a lifetime, I’m sure.” Her joke fell flat, her voice a little uncertain even to her own ears.
He shoved a container of dried food into his pack. “Right. But just in case.” He still hadn’t looked up. “Remember what I told you. Don’t go outside for any reason.”
She glanced at the huge pile of boulders that now barricaded the door. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”
He paused in his packing. “It better not be.” He finally looked at her, the lines around his eyes tight with tension. To her surprise, his gaze was dark with concern. No anger in sight. “Don’t forget to put more of that salve on your bruises. It’s easy to get an infection here. And don’t venture into the back caverns while I’m not here. You could get lost or slip.”
Buoyed by his concern, she grabbed his arm, his bicep so big she could barely wrap her hand around half. “I’m sorry about before.”
“It’s fine.”
“No. It’s not. I shouldn’t have assumed you intended to use your invention to crash a manned shuttle. I don’t…I don’t know much about your past, but I do know you’ve been nothing but fair and patient and generous since we met. Fear just got the best of me for a minute. It won’t happen again.”
He nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Okay.”
Not the most satisfying of responses.
“I think…I think I’m not the best at this whole depending on someone else thing. It’s making me act stupid.” She darted a quick glance his way.
She thought he might smile. Instead, he let out a slow, shuddering breath. “Look, Bella, it’s really okay. This is new territory for both of us. We’ll figure it out.”
Also not exactly the response for which she’d hoped. His resigned tone only made her more terrified that he sensed her growing feelings and wasn’t sure how to let her down easy. Was he, horror of all horrors, simply being nice? Or wishing even now it was that Gwen person standing next to him?
“I don’t want to be a burden.” She took a deep breath and forced the words out. “If you want me gone by the time you return, just say it.”
*****
Everything inside Caine stilled. “What did you say?”
“I want you to tell me if you’ve tired of our deal and you want me gone.” Her gaze shifted from his. “It’s alright if you do. Just tell me straight out.”
It took all his control to keep his voice measured. “I want you here.”
“You say that,” she said, doubt clear in her tone, “but—”
“No but. That’s the way things are.”
She might make things hard, she might awaken memories and heroic impulses better left dead and buried, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t letting her go until he had to.
She nodded, slowly, as if she still wasn’t convinced.
He knew things weren’t going like she’d hoped, but they’d iron it out in time. Get used to each other’s sore spots. He’d figure out how to get his head on straight. How to staunch the war within that one minute had him wanting to fuck her so hard and deep she permanently cleaved to his side, and the next minute wanting to push her far enough away that he wouldn’t even notice when he had to let her go.
In the meantime, he’d make damn sure not to say Gwen’s name again. Because he knew without a doubt that his mention of Gwen was what had set his fighter girl off, got her worrying about his past, thinking of him all over again as a Dragath25 criminal, wondering if she could trust him, making her reconsider their deal.
“I’m the best one to protect you,” he reminded her, not too proud to use the one card he knew he still held.
“I’m sure of that,” she agreed quickly. Too quickly. Her fingers worrying at the hem of her shirt.
Stymied, he ran a hand over the soft fuzz on his head. He was reluctant to leave and yet unsure what to say next. He could tell she wanted something more from him, but he wasn’t interested in rehashing his past—he wanted her to keep looking at him with respect, after all.
Plus, talking about all of that only made him stupid, only made his heart pound and his throat close. Post-traumatic stress, one prison doc had said. Guilt decreed another. Whatever the hell it was, he couldn’t afford to let that kind of emotion distract him now. He had to remain focused.
“I have to go.” But unable to resist, he pulled her close, drawing in the sweet scent of her, memorizing the feel of her softness against him. “I want to be back before the next dust storm hits.” The thought of her alone for a few hours was hard enough. He wasn’t about to let a storm keep him away for more than that. “When I come back, we’ll take a trip to the Oasis. You can take samples. Measurements. We can even swim in the lake if you like.”
He held his breath.
It fe
lt like hours, but eventually she leaned into him, her body a little stiff, but her arms still wrapped around his neck, her big green eyes bright with the kind of hesitant warmth that made him feel they’d be all right if he could just keep it together. He wanted whatever time he had left with her to be good.
“I’d love that. Thanks.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed his jaw, another good sign. “If Pogue and the others won’t listen, don’t stay around and try to convince them, okay? We’ll figure something else out. Just…just be safe.”
He tried to take away the worry. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Just don’t take unnecessary risks.”
His dark gaze bore into her. “Too late.”
He could tell by her puzzled expression she didn’t get it. Probably for the better. If she understood just how essential she’d become to his wellbeing, she might do something silly, like start talking again about redemption and how people could change, and try and convince him to come with her when he figured out how to make his jammer work in their favor. And as much as he wanted off this hellhole, he knew that wasn’t possible. Not if he wanted the Council to let her off this planet alive. They’d never let him set foot on that shuttle, much less Earth, and he’d only be putting her in more danger if he tried.
Knowing he couldn’t delay any longer, he stepped back, took one more good look at her…and vaulted upward, catching the rim of the window. Without too much effort, he swung his legs up and slid through, falling for a good few seconds before his boots slammed into the ground.
He looked up to see the top of her blonde head and two gorgeous worried eyes peering down. “You okay?”
“Fine. Careful on that table.” He didn’t like the idea of her up on that rickety thing. Hell, he didn’t like the idea of any of this. It would be so easy—so fucking easy—for her to get killed while he was away. “Board up the window like we planned. I won’t leave until I’m sure it’s done.”
Finding out Gwen had been screwing around on him had been bad, but he’d understood. They’d been young and dumb and known each other for less than six months when they got married. And while they’d definitely cared about each other, there’d been signs from the start that they weren’t compatible for the long run. For all her good traits—and there’d been plenty—Gwen had turned out to be less comfortable with standing on her own than they’d both expected. She’d grown increasingly resentful of every deployment and, eventually, found someone else who could take care of her in his absence.
Truth be told, once his ego had adjusted, he’d been almost relieved. He’d wanted her to be happy and he’d been willing to wish her well. Until he heard who she’d hooked up with. A married asshole Councilman from their District who lived like a king while the rest of the population got by on limited rations and supplies. Word was her new lover was extremely corrupt and a bad man to cross. Caine had warned Gwen, but she hadn’t listened. She’d wanted the attention, the easy life, the security too much. And he hadn’t done enough to guard her from herself.
In the end, it had cost them both everything.
He had no intention of making the same mistakes with his fighter girl.
Sweat rolled down his back as he waited for her to give the all-clear sign. His mind pictured her going through the instructions he’d laid out. First, she’d shut and bolt the wooden slats, and then, one big rock at a time, heft them into place in front of the window until she’d built a mini version of the same kind of barricade he’d placed in front of the door. No tigos would be able to get in. No 225 rapist, either.
“It’s done,” she shouted, her voice muffled by the barriers. “Good luck. I’ll be here when you get back. ”
She better fucking be.
Chapter Fourteen
Bella poked her finger into the dirt, making a nice air pocket for one of the seedlings she’d found stuck to the bottom of her boot. Her gaze traveled to the two other pots she’d planted with seeds from Caine’s food supply. Then to the failure of a cup she’d tried to whittle for herself with one of Caine’s knives and some spare wood.
She was running out of ways to distract herself.
With an impatient sigh, she headed to the kitchen area to trickle some water over her hands and stir the mix of grains and meat she’d decided to try and prepare after watching Caine this morning. Cooking over a bunch of burning rocks wasn’t anything like the Academy’s instant synthetic processor, but she was relieved to find it smelled delicious. If it tasted half as good, she’d be pleased with her first effort. Hopefully, Caine would be, too.
He’d said he wanted her here, and she was accepting that. No second guessing. No giving into silly insecurities. No obsessing about this Gwen person or his crimes. Or making more of what was between her and Caine than there was. She had calculated there were at least five more days minimum until the rescue shuttle arrived, and if Caine’s trip was successful, she was determined to spend them with him. To simply enjoy the present for as long as she could.
Or she would. Once Caine returned. She was done trying to make the best of her alone time. She wanted him back. She needed to know he was safe.
A faint sound had her hopping up on the table, spear in hand, the dry stale air from outside hitting her square in the face. Yes, she’d taken down the barricade in front of the window and opened the slats a while ago.
She didn’t like small, closed spaces. Never had. And the sense that she was in a tomb had stayed with her until she’d knocked down the rocks, ripped open the slats, and sucked down some fresh air. Hot as it was, vulnerable as it made her, it had still felt glorious.
Though the act itself had been pure anxious impulse, she’d reasoned since that the space was so small whatever came through would have to come single file and slowly, too. Spear raised high, she was ready for any unwelcomed guest.
Her gaze scanned the perimeter. Nothing. She tapped a solemn beat against the stone.
And then, as if she’d willed him into appearing, Caine’s dark head and wide shoulders appeared on the path, his spear and backpack slung around his back, his familiar graceful, commanding stride stealing her breath.
It seemed to take forever for him to reach the cave. Longer still for his black boots and long legs to slide through the window.
He landed in a crouch on the floor.
“You’re back!” Setting the spear against the wall, she rushed forward, relief making her giddy. “You were gone so long. Did everything go okay?”
“The window wasn’t bolted.”
She froze, the arms that had been about to envelop him dropping back to her sides. “I was growing worried about you.” Probably best not to mention it had been open far longer than that.
“All the more reason to keep it shut.”
She studied him. He looked tense, but good. No new scratches or bruises. But there was something lurking just beneath the surface of his skin that raised goose bumps on her flesh. He looked…haunted.
“I needed some air,” she said at last.
“You told me you’d keep it shut.” His pack dropped to the ground, making her jump. “If I can’t trust you to keep your word, how can I leave you to get things done?”
Definitely not the homecoming she’d imagined.
“I’m fine.” She spread her arms wide. She needed him to stop treating her as if she were so fragile. “In fact, I’m better than fine. I was by myself. For the first time in my life. In a small, dark space—which I don’t always like. And I handled it far better than I suspected I would. Even better, you’re back, safe and sound. We should be celebrating.”
“I didn’t know you were claustrophobic. You should have told me.”
“I handled it.”
He blew out a breath. “Which is great, but you can’t take unnecessary risks.”
“You’re right.” Sensing he was softening, she put her hand on his arm. “I’ll be more careful. But try and remember I really am stronger than I look. Now, put me out of my misery and tell me wh
at happened. Were you able to talk with my colleagues? Is everyone okay?”
His scowl deepened. “Those idiot soldiers of yours have been venturing farther and farther from the campsite, leaving an easy trail for any trackers to follow. I cleaned up their trail, but I won’t be able to keep their camp site hidden forever, especially without their cooperation.”
Her selfish plans for some time with Caine crumbled. “So they wouldn’t listen?”
“Listen?” he snorted. “They shot at me the instant I showed myself.”
She scanned him once more to make sure he was unharmed. “I’m so sorry.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“I’ll go next time. Pogue may not listen, but Winthrop and Ava will.”
“You’re not going anywhere near there. But don’t be so sure it would make a difference. That friend of yours is stubborn.”
So much for her insistence he remember her capability. “You spoke with her?”
“I knew you’d be worried. It was easy enough to sneak in to camp and find her.”
Her stomach turned at the risk he’d taken. If Pogue or the other soldiers had caught him, they would have killed him on sight.
“You told me you wouldn’t take such risks,” she accused.
His gaze shifted to the window. “I guess we both made promises we didn’t keep.”
Damn it. She hadn’t realized he’d care so much about a silly window. But then again, she’d never been the cowering kind. It was better he learned that now. If he was going to come to see her as anything more than a fuck toy, it had better be the real her.
Still, she left it alone for now. There were more pressing concerns. “What did Ava say? Is she holding up?”
“Her leg is still bothering her, and it doesn’t look like she’s eating or drinking enough, but she’s hanging in there. She was worried about you.” He scooped up his pack and started unpacking, returning every tool and carton to its precise place. “She was relieved when I told her you were safe.”