Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

  “I know. But she was also blackmailed by smugglers. Ruthless smugglers, Shamon. Even if security hadn’t stepped in, Gabie and her friends would be either dead or running the same mission. The only difference is that she has security at her back.”

  “You call getting beaten up being covered?” Just the memory of Gabie being hurt made Shamon’s teeth grind together. “Where was security then?”

  “Actually, one of the security team was there. That’s who knocked you out,” Des said.

  Shocked, Shamon swung around.

  “And before you go off on your bloody high horse, he would have interfered if it looked like she was going to be killed or severely injured.”

  “Severely injured?” Shamon was almost breathing fire. “She was hurt! How much more should she have to suffer before someone helps her? How much—”

  “Shamon.”

  His name was spoken quietly but it caught his attention, made his breath catch, and he turned swiftly to see Gabie standing in front of Simon.

  “Shamon, I’m all right—” she began, but she didn’t get a chance to say more because Shamon was there in one long stride.

  Emotion overwhelmed him. His throat was tight, his heart beating hard as his fury was momentarily forgotten at just the sight of her. Gathering her close to him, Shamon wanted to squeeze her tight but a little voice of wisdom reminded him of her smaller stature and bruises.

  Bending down over her, he pressed his mouth to her shiny brown hair. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, lass.”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I mean, I can’t breathe or anything right now, but apart from that...”

  Easing his hold, he allowed her to pull back just a fraction. Not enough to put any space between them, but enough so she could tilt her head back to meet his gaze. The bruise stood out on her cheek and her complexion was pale, but apart from that she seemed all right.

  “Shamon.” She laid one hand on his chest, her palm warm against his bare skin. “Des and Simon are right. This was a decision I had to make—”

  “’Twas forced on you, Gabie. ’Twasn’t a true choice.” Anger threaded through him, but so did concern and love. He wanted to take her away, wrap her in cotton wool, and protect her from any more harm. “I’ll take you back to Daamen. Just give me the word, and I’ll—” Gabie’s fingertips on his mouth stopped his words.

  She smiled ruefully up at him and shook her head. “The smugglers won’t stop looking for me or my friends now. They wanted us because of our...” She glanced at Des who was standing to the side, her sharp-eyed gaze watching everything. “...stuff. They’ll want that all the time now. That’s why they picked us, because they knew we stood the best chance of running the slaves past the law. As Paz said, now they’ve cornered us they’re not going to let us go. Ever.”

  “Those smugglers will be history, lass.” Shamon speared Des with a look. “Security knows who they are—”

  “Only the ones who had a run-in with Gabie,” Des replied, unfazed. “The top shark, the one they work for, is the one we’re hunting. The others are just big fish.”

  “And Gabie is bait,” Shamon snapped. “She could have been killed!”

  “Settle down.” Gabie tapped his arm, and even though her eyes were warm, her tone was pitched low to a calming level. “Shamon, I need you to listen. Please.”

  That was what got him. The soft plead. One look from those bright green eyes, that one word from her lips, and he could feel himself caving in. He tried to steel himself against it.

  “Please, Shamon.” Gabie pressed closer. “Just listen. For me?”

  He was a goner. Shamon knew it and so did Simon. His friend and captain was smiling faintly. One look at Des’s arched brow and sardonic expression made it obvious that wench knew it as well. He had a sudden sneaking suspicion that Gabie had been brought in as reinforcement.

  They’d found the one chink in his armour.

  “Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll listen, but it better be bloody good.”

  “Then sit down.” Des pointed to a chair. “Before I kick your—”

  Simon cleared his throat.

  Des sent him a sour look.

  He smiled back at her.

  More concerned with Gabie than the little scene being played out, Shamon led her to the table, his arm around her shoulders. About to settle her on a stool, he changed his mind and sat down, drawing her onto his thigh and settling his arm around her waist.

  Her cheeks went red and she tried to slide out of his hold. “Shamon, I can sit on a stool.”

  “Just stay right here.” As close to him as possible, right where he wanted her. Perched on his lap she was on eye level with him, and when she turned her head to protest he met her gaze squarely.

  He didn’t know what she saw in his eyes, but she sighed.

  “You’re being difficult.”

  “I have a right to be after what I saw happen to you.” He tightened his arm around her waist, only to ease up when he felt her stiffen. Spreading his palm across her belly, he said softly, “You’re still sore.”

  “Just a bit bruised.” Glancing away, she watched as Des and Simon sat down at the table opposite her. Her cheeks were still pink and when she looked back at him, she whispered, “Did I dream you?”

  Knowing immediately what she meant, he brushed his lips across hers. “Nay, ’twas no dream. As soon as I regained consciousness, I went to see you. A hundred space pirates couldn’t keep me away from you.” Especially when she’d curled into his embrace and admitted wanting him.

  In fact, right now he was torn in two. One part of him wanted to hunt down the bastards who’d hurt her and beat the living shit out of them, and the other part of him just wanted to hold her close and never let her go.

  When he’d been able to tear himself away from her, once Olin had assured him Gabie was fine, he’d stormed into the settlement and scoured the alleys and taverns after finding the dilapidated shack empty. It had taken all Heddam and Simon’s strength and persuasiveness to get him back to the trade ship.

  She touched his cheek pensively. “I heard you got hurt.”

  “’Twas nothing.” Catching her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles.

  A tremulous smile curved her lips and Shamon wanted nothing more right then than to carry her off and make love to her. Slow, gentle love.

  “Right.” Des fixed a hard gaze on both Gabie and Shamon, breaking their private moment. “You two are causing a problem.”

  “I told Sabra I wasn’t good at this kind of thing,” Gabie retorted.

  “Starting that brawl got you into trouble, brought you to the attention of the smugglers you’re working for,” Des continued. “Not to mention it could have gotten you badly hurt.”

  Gabie frowned.

  “And you.” Des speared Shamon with a menacing look. “What did you think you’d accomplish by storming into the settlement? You all but verbally announced to all and sundry that Gabie was yours and you were going to rip apart the men who’d hurt her.”

  “I’m not going to let my lass be treated like that,” Shamon growled. “I had every right to hunt those bastards down. And I tell you right now, if I’d gotten hold of them there’d be nothing left to scrape up with a shovel.”

  Gabie patted his arm soothingly. Simon smiled as he traced a pattern on the table top.

  “Oh yeah, you think he’s right,” Des stated sourly to him.

  “Aye. I’d have done the same,” Simon replied easily.

  “So why drag me back?” Shamon asked curtly.

  Simon looked up at him steadily. “Because there is a better way. One ’twill suit you and security. Sort of.”

  Suspiciously Shamon switched his gaze to Des. Simon’s wench was disgruntled, so whatever had been decided she wasn’t in sole agreement.

  “After the shit hit the fan, I contacted Sabra,” Des said. “She knows you a lot better than the rest of security do. She cleared it so you could travel wit
h Gabie as her protection. Back up,” Des clarified, pointing a finger at him. “You travel on her ship as back up, and you keep track of her when she leaves.”

  This was unexpected. “Security actually agreed?”

  “Sabra organized it, don’t ask me how. It didn’t help that Simon put the idea in her head.” Des glared at her husband. “Don’t think I’m going to forget that in a hurry, trader.”

  Simon just kept smiling, though his eyes got a little hotter. And it wasn’t with anger. Des actually blushed slightly, which only seemed to spark her temper more.

  Visibly reigning herself in, she turned back to Shamon. “The Larceny has a hiding space you can use if the smugglers get onboard. But you are not to engage them in a fight or let them know of your presence unless Gabie’s life depends on it. You may have to tolerate a bit of shoving or pushing—”

  “Nay!” Shamon leaned forward.

  “That’s the condition, trader, take it, like it, lump it or leave it,” Des growled.

  Anger surged through him. “Watch Gabie get hit? Are you out of your mind?” He swung his gaze back to Simon. “You really think I can do that?”

  Simon sent him a slow, barely discernable wink, and that made Shamon suddenly rethink. Simon knew something Des didn’t, or was going to give advice he didn’t want her to hear.

  His friend held his gaze for several long seconds before answering quietly, “Your interference could mean the life or death of Gabie and her crew. ’Tis why I’m sending Heddam with you.”

  “You think he can hold me back?”

  “He can talk sense into you during what could be a harrowing time.”

  Des narrowed her eyes at Shamon. “These are your choices, Shamon. One—you go as her back-up but keep hidden and stay quiet, only interfering if the Larceny’s crew is in danger of their lives, and track them when they leave the ship and report back to security. Two—and trust me, this is the one I favour the most—you stay the hell away from Gabie and her mob or end up cooling your heels in a holding cell until this is all over.”

  “You should pull Gabie from this and protect her,” Shamon said furiously.

  “Shamon.” Gabie shifted in his arm to look at him. “You know I can’t go to ground. I’ll be hunted for the rest of my life. And so will Misha, Paz and Olin.”

  “You’ll be safe on Daamen,” he growled. “I promise you that.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll never be able to travel freely. None of us will. What kind of life is it for us, constantly looking over our shoulders, worried that someday someone will grab us?”

  “’Twon’t happen on Daamen.”

  “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life skulking on Daamen. And... and I want to stop these smugglers. They’re dealing in live cargo, human cargo.”

  “Then let security deal with it. They know the main players.” Shamon ran his palm across her back. “Gabie, ’tis too dangerous. I don’t want you hurt anymore than you’ve already been.”

  Gabie looked at Des. “Show him. Show him what you showed me on my ship.”

  Without a word Des took a handtronic from her pocket and handed it to Shamon.

  “Look,” Gabie said, and flicked one of the little buttons.

  He looked, and what he saw made him sick. Bodies were piled up beside a mass grave. Another pic was of a small group of ragged children, crying, despairing. Another showed a wench and man being torn away from their children. Each pic showed the cruelty of slavery. Hunger. Despair. Haunting. Beatings and whippings. Humiliation. A couple of clear rapes.

  It shook him, made nausea roil in his throat. All he could think to say was, “Slaves are sold in the markets.” He put the handtronic down, not wanting to see anymore.

  “Yes. Outlaws. And those slave markets are under law and rules. But these, Shamon, are innocent people. These are hunted down and sold in the Outlaw Sector.” Des leaned her folded arms on the table. “These photo images were taken and sent to us by someone we’re trying to locate. The communications stopped several months ago, we don’t know why. But whoever is behind this particular lot is one we’ve been hunting. So far we have no actual proof of the ringleader. Our only hope to track him down is through the slaves Gabie has onboard the Larceny.”

  Sabra had told him about the slavery but the photo images brought it to harsh reality. The children, the wenches. The men behind it were ruthless. And Gabie was rubbing shoulders with them, had already been a victim of their violence.

  Convulsively his hand on her thigh tightened. “There has to be another way.”

  “This is the closest we’ve ever gotten. This way we can find out those near the top of this operation and by finding them, we can pinpoint the leader.” Picking up the handtronic, Des slid it back into her pocket. “Gabie has given us the closest lead we have. Frankly—and, trust me, this hurts me to admit it—we need Gabie and her crew.”

  He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to hear the ring of sincerity in Des’s voice. Unknowingly his hand spread wide over Gabie’s back to cradle her almost tenderly.

  “Gabs.” Shamon caught her gaze. “You could get so badly hurt. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “It does.” Reaching up, she laid her palm against his cheek, and her beautiful green eyes shimmered with tears. “I didn’t really understand about the slaves until I saw them, not just aboard my ship, but in those image photos. I didn’t see them until Des showed them to me an hour ago. But having seen them... Shamon, I need to do this. We need to do it. Misha, Paz, Olin and me. We saw the images and we agreed to carry this out to the end.”

  “You showed her.” Shamon took a deep breath. “Des—”

  “I did what I had to do,” Des cut him off. “Simon made me explain to you. I was all for slinging your arse in a cell but he suggested this route was the wisest to take with you.” She cut her husband a glare. “He owes me big time.”

  “Trust me, lass, I’ll pay back big time.” His smile was more of a leer. “Anytime you’re ready.”

  Shamon felt Gabie give a start of surprise and remembered that she’d never seen Simon with his wife. Thoughtful Simon was often replaced with Besotted Simon and Lustful Simon.

  And Simon had interfered in security business, something he never did. For Shamon.

  He felt an unaccustomed emotion rise in him when he looked at Simon. Fair-haired, thoughtful, easy going and no man’s fool, his friend would walk through the fires of Hell for his beloved wife, and ’twould appear he’d risk her wrath to help a friend.

  Dragging her gaze from Simon’s, Des scowled at Shamon. “So make up your mind, Shamon. I don’t have all bloody day to be dealing with your soulful heart. Are you going with Gabie or staying the hell out of our way?”

  “He’s staying away,” Gabie said immediately.

  Shamon ignored her. “I go with her.”

  “I don’t want you on the Larceny.” Gabie’s lips were set. “It’s a stupid idea and you’re going to get killed. Des, you should have listened to your gut feeling and slung his arse in a cell.”

  “’Tis no way I’m letting you go without me, lass.” Shamon rubbed her thigh. “I prefer this idea.”

  “You would,” both Des and Gabie said at once. They looked at each other and visibly shuddered at being in agreement.

  “No argument on this,” Shamon told to Gabie.

  She muttered something beneath her breath but he knew by her sigh that she was resigned to the idea.

  He turned his attention to Simon. “Heddam doesn’t need to come into the danger zone with us.”

  “He goes,” Simon stated. “In fact, he insists. He volunteered.”

  “And for such an easy-going trader, Shamon, you’re a hothead when it comes to Gabie.” Des stood up. “Right, I’m finished farting around with precious egos and feelings. Let’s get this operation back on track. Gabie, come with me to the control cabin and I’ll give you another frequency you can contact me on. It’s a direct private line.”

  Shamon released Gab
ie only after giving her a brief kiss on the cheek and a light squeeze on her thigh. She limped after Des and only paused in the doorway to cast him an unhappy glance before following the taller wench out into the corridor beyond. She wasn’t happy about Shamon accompanying her, but he was more than glad. And he had a good friend to thank for it.

  The silence filled the dining cabin and Shamon switched his gaze to Simon, who was regarding him calmly. Shame coursed through him at the memory of his words.

  “Simon, I owe you a huge apology,” he began.

  “None needed,” Simon replied promptly.

  Shamon ploughed on regardless. “You said you’d never interfere in security because of Des’s involvement, but you did. For us. For Gabie.”

  Leaning forward with his forearms on the table, Simon regarded him steadily. “You’re my friend, Shamon. You’ve gone through danger with Red, me, Darvk, Borga and Jase, all for our lasses. Do you truly think I could do any less? Nay.” He held up his hand when Shamon opened his mouth. “’Twas a small thing, just a suggestion made to Sabra. ’Twas she who took it up.”

  “Des is furious with you.”

  Simon grinned. “The wench is such a delight when she’s mad. And Shamon, she’s not as furious as you think. She’ll rant and rave, but she knows ’tis the only way.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Shamon said quietly.

  “By staying safe and trying to abide by the rules set down by Des.” Simon shook his head. “Though truth be told, if ’twere Des in danger, I’d be doing exactly as you are.”

  “Heddam—”

  “Wants to go. He’s your friend and he knows you may need backup when the time comes. Trust me, ’twas not easy to choose when every man on this ship, every one of your friends, stepped forward to volunteer their help. Heddam won out by simply telling the others, quite coarsely I might add, to shove off. He was going with you.”

  Shamon had to swallow the lump in his throat. “Des is your lass and I yelled at her. I wouldn’t hurt her, Simon. You know that?”

  “Of course I know that. I wouldn’t have stood there if I’d thought differently. I’d have pinned your arse to the wall.” Simon sat back. “Now, something else before you get too soppy on me.”