Colonist's Wife

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Colonist's Wife Page 10

by Kylie Scott


  The minute the door had opened enough for her to push herself through, she did so. Next came an icy, old corridor with red and brown rust stains running down the walls. Obviously, no one much came this way. The air smelled stale and faintly metallic. Behind her the door ground slowly shut and the prick slammed into it, banging impatiently against it because he couldn't fit through where she could. She might die this time, but he would have to work for it, the prick.

  Shit, shit, shit. Neither way looked promising. The long, frigid corridor must run through the outer wall of the colony. At least it led away from Adam.

  Louise turned left and ran. The corridor went on and on. Behind her, the door squealed and complained as it opened slowly a second time. She had to be out of sight by the time it did--and where the hell was she, anyway? Where could she run to? Her shoes skid across a patch of ice and she went careening into the wall, bashing her elbow against the solid metal.

  Behind her, the door clinked slowly open. She could hear yelling but who it was and what they were shouting, she did not know. Whatever happened, the prick would be coming. Her head was his meal ticket.

  Embedded in the wall stood a ladder leading up to the surface--had to be. So up she went.

  Her leg muscles burned and her side cramped with fear. The noise of her feet and hands clanging against the rungs echoed hollowly.

  Keep going. Faster and faster.

  Above her head sat a round, metal portal. A sensor light blinked lazily to green and the gears started moving, beginning the process of opening. The first gust of polar wind hit her, and gods. Fuck, her face stung. It burned. It was raining...or snowing. The same sludgy, icy-cold shit that had greeted her when she'd first stepped foot on Esther dripped down through the widening gap and splattered her upturned face.

  She only had on her gardening gear from earlier--a T-shirt and cargo pants, a ratty pair of sneakers. This wouldn't end well. But then she'd known it from the beginning. Hope was horrible.

  There were noises below, footsteps. He'd found her.

  "Bitch," he snarled. The prick did not score high in originality.

  Faster. Move faster. Louise hoisted herself up the metal rungs and scrambled through the widening hole. She fell out onto the barren surface of Esther, landing hard on the frozen ground. No time to worry about it. Her shoulder throbbed angrily in protest as she dragged herself forward on her elbows, trying to get clear of the hatch as fast as possible. Sleet dripped off her hair, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision.

  She had to hurry. He'd be right behind her.

  The popping noise came again and every bit of her tensed--too late. Agony ripped through her like fire. The bullet tore through her calf and she screamed. Sobbed and screamed and huddled in on herself, howling with pain and rage. Never had she felt anything like it. Nothing compared.

  But noises from below pulled her back to the present. She could have sworn she heard Adam calling to her. No! The prick would shoot him.

  Grimly, she crawled over the bitterly cold surface. Sharp rocks cut into her hands but she barely noticed. None of it compared to her leg. Blood soaked her pants and dribbled down into her shoe. The wind shrieked and she couldn't hear a thing, but she had to move. She had no choice.

  With gritted teeth, she pushed up onto one leg, testing her bad one with a little pressure and...nothing but pain, and lots of it. Blindingly white, shooting up her leg and sliding through her, a whole world of pain just for her.

  Behind her the portal door ground steadily open. He was coming.

  There were lots of rocks. She needed to hide behind them. Yes. That made sense.

  Louise limped toward the nearest. The last of the daylight faded on the horizon. Darkness might be her friend...

  A girl could still stupidly hope, it seemed.

  If only she'd worn a black T-shirt. Black pants. Beige was too light, too obvious. Her teeth chattered as sleet soaked into her clothing. Cold seeped into her, burying itself deep, the chill a stark contrast to the warmth of the blood flowing from the bullet wound. She shook from head to toe. Every part of her grew steadily, blessedly numb. Her head hung foggy, useless.

  Nearly there.

  She reached the first tangle of stone, her progress nerve-wrenchingly slow.

  Faster--she had to move faster. Get farther away.

  "Where are you?" the prick screamed, horribly fucking close.

  Louise dropped behind the nearest rock pile, ignoring the jab of a sharp edge against her side. It didn't much compare to the rest.

  "I was next on the list. Not Elliot." The prick's voice had moved away a little, but not far enough. "The fucking hero."

  She had to distract him if he got close--when he got close.

  "Gideon was easy to kill. So easy. Dickheads never even check their gear for tampering." He drew closer. "We could have had a good time, you and me."

  Like fuck they could have.

  "For a little while, anyway. Someone really wants you dead, hon. Lot of money on your pretty little head."

  Louise picked up a stone and pegged it as far as she could to the side. Her fingers felt frozen and her insides like ice. What parts of her were not numb from the ice screamed in pain. Tears froze on her face.

  Pop. Pop.

  At least the idiot seemed willing to waste ammunition. Perhaps he'd run out. There was a plan.

  "You can't hide from me forever."

  No. True. But she could give it a damn good go.

  "Louise!"

  Her heart seized up in alarm. Adam. Oh no. No, no, no.

  Louise scurried to her feet, or tried to. Her leg seized up, paralyzed with pain, useless. She had to push through. No way was the prick getting her husband. "Hey! Josh!"

  The prick turned toward her with gun in hand and she limped for it. Away from Adam and the hatch, drawing the fire and giving him a chance.

  The bullet hit her in the back mid-flight and it seemed the whole world exploded. Drew in tight, then...boom. The hard, cold ground hit her and she stayed there. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't even move.

  There was another pop. No, a bang. It sounded different. Something fell heavily at her side--another body.

  Adam?

  No. The hair was damp but still visibly blond, lighter than Adam's. It was the prick, and he was bleeding from a hole in the forehead. Which meant Adam must be safe--had to be. The relief of it swamped her. She tried to smile but couldn't muster the strength.

  Someone said something but she could barely hear them. Everything turned gray.

  Chapter Nine

  Day One Hundred and Sixty-Eight

  Louise's back ached. So did her feet. So did her silvery bullet wounds. Everything hurt. Rose had warned her, but she hadn't listened. She'd pushed it too far. But it was easier if she kept busy. Time went faster.

  She slid a hand over the scanner and the domicile door opened. Home. How nice--or it should be. Instead it seemed nice but lonely. Horribly quiet, and every speck of space reminded her of him--he who shouldn't be named, for reasons regarding her sanity. The scent of him had left his pillow months back but she still kept a stranglehold on it at night, pretending. Still wore one of his T-shirts to bed.

  He wasn't coming back. She had to accept it.

  Apparently his father's second funeral had gone well. But the chief had been given no further information. Not that she entirely believed him.

  Adam had boarded a ship the day after the shooting and had been gone ever since. Apparently he'd waited to ensure she was out of surgery and stabilized, then poof! Gone.

  She missed him. She'd still been unconscious when he left. They hadn't even gotten to talk. No chance to explain.

  She sniffled and a tear slid off her chin. It happened at the drop of a hat these days. Damn embarrassing. And everyone was so nice about it, which only made it worse. All her friends...because she had friends now, and they were lovely and understanding. She had a life of sorts.

  Poor her, abandoned by her husband. Such a thing
had never happened before. They didn't really know what to do with her. Rose and Taka put in quality time babysitting, but she wasn't the best company. Best if they let her keep busy in the garden by day and stare into space at night.

  She was safe enough. Only Thoms had been involved on Esther, and he'd died, taken out by a bullet from Bon's pistol, care of Adam. The district attorney had eventually agreed that staying put would be best. Who knew how much pressure Nathan Hillier had applied to the situation to garner that result?

  Louise stood in the middle of the sitting room, still dressed in her garden gear and baggy-ass coat. She did have some nice clothes. Rose had insisted. If she wanted, she could go and put them on and join Rose and Taka for dinner at Hali's. But she wouldn't. What would she say?

  Not really hungry, but she should eat.

  She sighed loudly. "Woe is me."

  "Hey, princess."

  She spun on her toes, eyes popping out of her head. Adam. Holy shit, it was really him.

  He sat on the edge of the sofa, hands dangling between his knees. "How are you?"

  "Y-you're back," she stuttered, stating the obvious.

  "Yeah. Just a few hours ago."

  "Oh."

  He was back. How about that? Her brain wouldn't believe what her eyes were seeing. There'd been so many times she'd imagined his return.

  "How are you?" he asked again.

  "Fine. You?"

  Adam nodded and gave her a forced smile. Still as beautiful as sin. He had a bit of a beard going on and he looked older. She'd aged him, her and her bullshit situation. Guilt put an arm around her like an old friend. Its weight bowed her back.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  Adam held up a hand.

  "No, Adam--really."

  "Lou-- I don't know what to call you. What do you want me to call you?"

  She shrugged. "Louise is fine. I'm used to it now. Plus, they said I needed to keep my cover."

  "Louise." His gaze searched her face, lingering on her mouth. "I want you to know you're safe. The person responsible for the price on your head is dead."

  "Dead?" The enormity of what he said stunned her stupid. "What happened? You?"

  "Bon and I. It's done."

  He'd killed for her, again. Put himself in danger, again. What the hell could she say? "Um, thank you. But Adam, you could have been hurt."

  "I'm fine and now you're safe. Though it's probably best if you stay out here on Esther."

  "I have no intention of leaving. This is my home now." Or more specifically, he was home. But she couldn't exactly tell him so after all the lies, after she'd nearly gotten him killed. "I wanted to tell you about all of it..."

  The words dwindled away to nothing. It wouldn't be enough. Most likely nothing ever would be. No amount of "I love you" or "I'm sorry" or anything else she could possibly come up with would cut it. So selfish of her to even try.

  Slowly, Adam stood and walked over to her. Coming close but not touching. She clenched her fists to keep her fingers from grabbing at him, holding on to him and never letting go. If she could just make it through this first meeting without losing it completely, it would be fine. No falling to her knees and begging. No flooding the room with tears. Things would get easier once they got past this first time. They could even be friends, maybe. Or they could try to be.

  "You look tired," he said. "Have you eaten?"

  She gave him a reluctant smile. "You too..."

  "Me too, what? You haven't been eating?"

  "I'm eating plenty," she protested, fingers twisting through one another. Nerves were getting the better of her. "Really."

  But he obviously didn't believe her. He grabbed the lapels of her brown woolen jacket and pushed it back off her shoulders. It caught on her elbows and hung there. Adam just looked at her, stared. It seemed his jaw dropped open of its own accord. "Holy shit."

  "I haven't put on that much weight."

  He snapped his mouth shut and his nostrils flared. "Princess, you're pregnant."

  "Yeah." She shrugged. "We're having a baby, Adam. It's what happens when you go crazy with the unprotected sex."

  But the look on his face... The man looked pale, startlingly so. His eyes were unusually round. For a moment he almost seemed to sway on his feet, as if he might faint.

  Oh boy. "You didn't know? The chief didn't tell you?"

  He shook his head. His face appeared to have frozen. "No. No, he didn't."

  "You look horrified."

  "No. I'm just..." He gingerly reached out and pushed up her T-shirt, exposing the swell of her belly. She resisted the urge to tug it back down. The look on his face didn't change one iota. "Wow. We're having a baby."

  "Yes."

  "Wow."

  "You said that already."

  The side of his mouth kicked up and suddenly life returned to him. Color flooded his face and he out-and-out grinned at her. "I love you."

  Her heart stuttered in a way that couldn't be healthy. Also, there didn't seem to be any air left in the room. Her shoulders rushed up and down. "Because we're having a baby?"

  "No. Because I love you." Adam got to his knees and pressed his forehead against the almighty bump. "This is amazing."

  "But I lied to you."

  "You had reason. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked, then winced. "Ugh, I shouldn't call the baby 'it'. That's awful."

  "A girl. I nearly got you killed."

  "You nearly got yourself killed. That doesn't happen again. I hated leaving while you were still in the med unit." Tenderly, he placed kisses all over her swollen tummy. The beard tickled her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Adam shaped his hands to her belly with an expression of open wonder. His smile split his face. "A baby girl? That's wonderful. How about names? Have you thought of any?"

  "It's not so simple, Adam."

  "Well, no. But we can start a list. Your breasts are fantastic, by the way." He eyed her up with a heated gaze. "Princess, look at them."

  Her hands flapped uselessly beside her, still caught up in the coat. Fear and frustration filled her completely and he was licking his lips and staring at her boobs as if dinner had been served. It made no sense and they really needed some sense in this situation. "Adam, focus. I don't mean naming the baby--I mean us. I messed everything up."

  Adam gazed up at her for a moment, then rose to his feet. And his eyes...he had the most exquisite blue eyes. He cupped her face in gentle hands and leaned in to her. The heat of his body warmed and soothed her straight away. His mere presence made everything scarily better, like sunshine and rainbows and sparkly stars. "No. You were put in an impossible situation. We were married for eight days. There wasn't time for you to learn to trust me. Not with something so big."

  "You're not mad?"

  With a pained sigh, he puckered his lips. "I was. I got over it. Bon helped."

  Hell. "You fought Bon?"

  "No, I talked to him. No way am I fighting him. He's huge."

  "Oh. Good."

  "I also talked to a shrink," he said. "Or a therapist, rather. About the nightmares and everything."

  "You did?"

  "Yes. It was time. I even talked to my mother." He stroked his thumbs over her cheeks and exhaled noisily. "Things aren't great, but we'll keep in contact."

  "Adam, that's wonderful."

  "Do you forgive me?" he asked, rubbing his nose against hers. "For leaving you for so long without word? I didn't want this touching you--you'd been hurt enough. And I didn't want you to worry."

  "Yes, of course."

  "You're safe now. You can make whatever choices you like."

  "I choose you," she blurted out in a rush.

  "You don't have to, princess. You're as free as a bird. Well, a bird that's stuck on Esther."

  She covered his hands with her own. They were standing so close, her baby belly between them. She'd never thought she'd have the chance to be with him again. Not when everything had been left in such a mess. Her brain buzzed with po
ssibilities. She wanted to get high off the scent of him. Bury her nose in his neck and never leave, no matter what. Tie him to her somehow, if he'd let her. "I choose you. I love you, Adam."

  "Thank the gods for that. Would have killed me to let you go--I'm not sure I could." He kissed her gently, brushing his lips against hers. "You know, I talked to your district attorney friend. He told me how brave you were through it all. How you ran from the guy and hid. How you never backed down during the trial no matter how hard things got. I'm very proud of you."

  "You are?" Tears started up of their own accord. Of course they did. Adam had returned and he wasn't leaving. Everything would be okay. It felt impossible and wonderful and everything else in between. Her knees wobbled. The whole world felt off its axis. She ditched the coat and hung on to her husband.

  "Hey. Don't cry." Adam kissed her tears away, not missing one. "Shhh."

  "You really love me? After everything?"

  "I really love you," he said. "I swear."

  He kissed her again, slow and sweet and deep. He kissed her just right and she clung to him, hands fisted in his shirt. The taste of him was perfect. It had been so long. She'd been starving for him. The feel of his tongue rubbing against hers and the pressure of his lips made her mind reel. A startled laugh crossed with a sob sprung out of her from who knew where, and Adam peppered her face with kisses.

  When he drew back he rested his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes with a smile on his face. "You know, we should have a real wedding with the fancy big dress and flowers and cake and everything. All the trimmings. We could do it in the garden. What do you think? Will you marry me properly, princess?"

  "Try to stop me."

  About Kylie Scott

  Kylie is a multi-published, long-time fan of erotic love stories. She demands a happy ending and if the odd shoot-out or sword fight should happen along the way, then all the better. Based in Queensland, Australia, with her two children and one delightful husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet.

  Kylie welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

 

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