Remy stood with her hands on her hips while the sounds of a small army vibrated through the hull. If she was lucky, Foley got Max and the twins hidden in the smuggler’s hold. If she wasn’t so lucky, military prison would be preferable to what Cooper would do to her over the loss of the cargo in the hold. Thank God Max had hidden it behind the tractor tires and bags of seed. The man was a natural smuggler.
Unable to watch Gina any longer, she walked away. The woman had been barely out of childhood when she’d swung a whip at Remy in the dark coldness of the cell—she bore the scars from her punishment all those years ago. Gunnar had pulled her from that prison with some kind of magic, and she vowed never to let herself land in a Corporation jail again. As she stepped through the hatch to the galley, she caught sight of Foley eating at the table.
“Who’s on the ship, Cap’n? Sounds like a bunch of pretty boys.”
Remy grinned. “Corporation military squad. Looking for some dangerous killer.”
“Ain’t no killers on here unless you consider Katie’s singing. That gal’s voice could drive a body to jump out the airlock.”
This time Remy laughed. For all his crotchety ways Foley might use surliness to keep people at arm’s length, beneath it, he cared. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have helped hide Max and the twins, or make her laugh when she wanted to puke.
“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Remy managed to walk over and get a cup of water from the purifier. It trickled out, but eventually it filled up. “You need to fix this.”
“I did.”
“No, you didn’t. It’s barely spitting. Same problem in my quarters. I nearly have to suck water out of the spout.”
“I fixed it. Ain’t nothing else to do but replace it.” He crossed his arms and scowled, crumbs of whatever he’d been eating caught in his beard.
“I’ll bet Katie could fix it,” she challenged.
“That girl don’t know a damn thing about water filtration. She’s only good with greasy things.”
“Foley, you’re full of sh—”
“Captain.” Gina’s voice cut through the conversation like a rusty knife. “My team found some things in the crew quarters downstairs.”
Remy shrugged. “Things left behind when the crew left. I haven’t been down there in two months.”
“There wasn’t much there. All low quality garments.” The general must have believed the half truth. “No other signs of habitation except the sink downstairs was wet.”
Remy’s heart thumped. “The filtration system is fucked up.”
Gina blinked at the curse. “Excuse me?”
“We were just arguing about it. Foley wants to replace it, but I told him to fix it.” She walked over to the spout and held out her hand. A few drops landed on her palm. “The goddamn thing leaks, and it barely provides enough for the three of us to survive.”
“Ah, yes, your engineer greeted us at the door. The Steel Coyote has lost most of its crew. I was surprised to find you’re still flying with such a, ah, less than skilled group.”
“Nothing but the best on this ship.” Remy was unwilling to take the bait. She would strip down naked and give Cooper a lap dance before she’d give the general the satisfaction of seeing her anger. “Are you done? We need to get going. I have a delivery to make.” Remy heard a note of impatience in her voice. Stupid to let that leak out.
“Oh? Where would that be?” Gina asked.
“Haverty. We have supplies for the farmers. Making some money the honest way.” Oh, how she lied and lied. It would be all worth it in the end. Twenty thousand credits was more than she’d made the entire year since Gunnar died.
“Haverty,” Gina repeated. “How interesting.”
Remy sipped at the water in the tin cup, grateful her hand didn’t shake. In another two minutes, she might have to punch the other woman for the satisfaction of seeing that perfect nose rain crimson.
“Are we done?” She modulated her tone this time to match the disinterested expression.
Gina’s gaze locked with hers and she saw nothing in the obsidian eyes to give her a clue what the woman was thinking. The annoying fact was Gina was very good at being a blank slate, keeping all her secrets locked away in her tiny brain. Damn her.
“Are you departing immediately?”
“That’s the plan. We have a schedule.” Remy sipped again, noisily.
“If you know anything about this man or the crime, you are obligated to divulge it.”
“I’ve already told you, Gina. I don’t know a damn thing. Never saw the man in the mercantile or the owner. You’ve searched my ship. What else do you want?” Remy slurped this time, keeping a straight face when she noted Gina’s disgust.
“Your cooperation, of course. And it’s General Parkinson.” Gina turned and left the galley, stepping through the hatch as though she was afraid the old metal would contaminate her pristine self. “Good day, Captain.”
Remy and Foley looked at each other as the sound of the general and her squad departing the ship echoed around them. Katie’s voice rang through the ship’s speaker again.
“All clear.”
The ramp closed with an audible thump. They were free of the Corporation’s military. For now. Gina wasn’t done with them yet.
“Buckle in, Foley. We’ve got to get off this station as fast as that engine can take us.” Remy raced for the bridge, eager to leave Azesus and Gina behind.
If Jean hadn’t sent them to pick up his cousins, if Max hadn’t insisted on buying supplies, and if Gina hadn’t been there, they’d be on schedule to reach Haverty. Now they had a Corporation military squad shadowing them, a murder hanging over their heads, two mysterious teenagers who certainly were not Jean’s cousins, and illegal cargo in the hold.
Things could not possibly get any stranger.
Fucking hell.
…
Max recognized two things within a minute of being locked in the hold—the twins had not bathed in quite some time, and there was little air in the space for three people to breathe. The atmosphere grew fragrant, and he was quite glad Foley wasn’t in there with them. He didn’t dare activate Saint to keep him sane. Any light could give away their position.
The seconds crawled by like ants on his skin. Each exhale was followed by the slightest inhale. Max had been in a similar situation after he escaped from Haverty. He knew how to survive in a small space with little air and even smaller food supply. He was ten years older now and still survived by his wits.
Even with all the scrabbling to live, hiding in that small hold with the twins was quite possibly the strangest thing Max had ever experienced, which was quite a feat considering all the stupid, ridiculous situations he’d been embroiled in.
The sounds of heavy treads, shouting, and thumps sounded around them. Whatever Katie had warned about was apparently coming true. He didn’t understand why he was the one crouching in the darkness with the children. It wasn’t him they were after—these two were the prize sought by whomever was on board.
He had no doubt they were bound for some rich man’s house and not to do farm work. The favor Remy owed St. Pierre was a big one. If she didn’t deliver these two, she’d have to face the man for her marker, but her reputation as a captain would no doubt be over. Perhaps something worse than either of those consequences. None of it was his business.
“What’s happening?” The girl spoke first, her voice as soft as a feather’s touch.
The boy hissed at his sister. “Shut up.”
“Are they going to take us back?” She wasn’t giving up.
Max felt the warm gust of air as Mason reached across and presumably pinched his sister.
“Ow!”
“Shut up.” Although he was a skinny boy, the kid had a deeper voice than Max expected.
The last place he wanted to be was stuck between squabbling siblings, particularly two who smelled as bad as they did.
“Both of you shut up or I’ll stuff my socks down your gullets.”
He wasn’t proud of his threat, but damn it, if they didn’t shut their pie holes, someone would hear them.
Neither of them spoke. Max had developed an impatience for youngsters when he had been one. Children were always causing trouble, including himself. Bickering in the dark when they were supposed to be hiding. Foolish babes.
Max listened, eyes closed, as people searched the ship. Judging by the sounds, there were a great deal of people, which could mean it was Corporation military. Why the hell were they there? Or more importantly, what did these two kids do? It was possible whoever had bought them had a guard watching the space station. Staying out of sight, of course, but ensuring the owner they were unsullied property.
Remy must have known what she was getting into by picking up the “cousins.” Especially when she had to use her gun to take possession of them. He was damn frustrated. He didn’t want to hide with a crate of food in the dark and his guns useless on his back. Remy should have trusted him to have her back, not babysit and cower in a smuggler’s hold.
His ire grew with each passing minute, along with his impatience. The noise in the ship quieted down to nothing, yet Foley still did not return.
Max was done waiting. It was past time he be treated like a crewmember and not a nuisance. Hell, he had the captain’s fortune on his credit chip. He could have left her high and dry, and at Cooper’s mercy, but he hadn’t. She hadn’t given him the same courtesy or respect.
Footsteps sounded right outside, and he reached behind him to release his weapons. The pistol grips felt good in his hand. He tensed, ready to go down swinging—or firing in this case. Someone stood on the other side of the door, and Max tightened his hands on the pistols. Adrenaline plowed through him; every small hair on his body stood at attention.
He squinted as the door opened, the light making his eyes sting. His finger rested on the triggers, his muscles tensed and ready.
“Don’t shoot, ya ijit.” Foley ducked down faster than Max expected the old man to move.
“Don’t leave me locked up in fucking hole again.” Max shoved the guns into the holsters and beat back the battle lust that surged through him.
“I do what the cap’n says, not you.” The old man turned and made his way back up the stairs, his joints creaking more than the ship.
The twins scampered out and followed Foley like a couple of mice. Max took a deep breath and picked up the crate. The kids needed to wash up and get into the clean clothes before their stench started melting the hull.
He walked into the galley in a foul mood. Remy stood there beside Katie, their hands on their hips. Foley had his arms crossed, a smug expression on his wrinkled face. The twins hid behind Remy, their gazes lowered. Max set the crate back on the table. When the old man reached for the bag of peppermints, Max slapped his hand.
“That weren’t nice,” Foley groused.
“I’m not in a nice mood.” He glared at Remy. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
She narrowed her gaze. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“You threw me in a closet with those two, who smell like rancid cat piss by the way, and you’re asking me what happened?”
Saint finally showed up on Max’s shoulder. “I am ever so glad I have no sense of smell.”
“A Corporation military squad searched the ship. I thought it best they not find any of you. We are known at this station for having three crew members.” Remy grimaced. “I was right to do it, especially when I found out what happened at the mercantile.”
Her gaze flicked to his pocket and he belatedly remembered the impulse purchase. Oh hell.
“I only spent twenty-seven credits. Jesus, they needed clothes and shoes. Their feet are almost black with dirt. Are you going to—”
She cut him off with a chop of her hand in the air. “I could give a rat’s fart for clothes. I’m talking about the old man.” She looked at his pocket again. “You have something red in your trousers.”
“I bought a new pair of drawers,” he blurted. Saint tsked at Max’s lie. Damn Moral Compass. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “What about the old man? Did he cheat me?”
She moved toward him. “Show me the drawers.”
He put his hand in his pocket. “You want to see my drawers?”
“Don’t act stupid, Fletcher. General Parkinson told me what you did, and it was you they were after, not the kids.” Remy appeared to be completely serious. About what, he had no idea.
“I bought these supplies and the old man tied up the clothes and such in the paper.” Max poked at the twine, crinkling it under his finger.
Remy studied him, the silence in the room only broken by Foley’s self-satisfied snort. “Someone gutted him.”
Max stared at her, taking a few moments to absorb what she said. “Gutted who? The old man?”
“Within minutes of you being there, it seems. The military police were on your trail like a pack of hounds on a fox. Someone on the docks said they saw you running from the mercantile and onto my ship.” She jabbed his chest with one finger. “My ship, Fletcher.”
Max told himself not to be insulted. She didn’t know him or trust him, but she’d fuck him. He was nothing to her but a pilot, a means to an end. Still, her accusation stung.
“That old man was alive when I left. Hell, I didn’t have time to commit murder, wash my clothes, and get back on the ship in fifteen minutes.” His voice was tight with anger.
“I was there, and I can attest to the fact Max did the man no harm.” Finally, Saint said something helpful. A Moral Compass cannot lie.
“Then show me whatever is in your pocket.” Her blue eyes were hard, still distrustful.
He was a fool to buy something soft and feminine for her. All it got him was a false murder charge and a passel of trouble. Max yanked the nightie out of his pocket and threw it at her.
The nightie slid down her front, and he enjoyed the surprise on her face. Foley hooted and slapped his knee. Katie’s brows shot up.
“What is this?” Remy picked up the soft garment from the floor.
“It’s a sexy gift, if I’m not mistaken.” Katie eyed him. “And I was very wrong about you, Max.”
He didn’t care what the engineer thought of him. Hell, he didn’t care what any of them thought. He was done with the Steel Coyote.
“I’m getting off this boat. Now.” He brushed past all of them, eager to find the peace he craved. He didn’t care if he was stuck on Azesus for months, as long as he got off this ship.
“You don’t want to do that, Max.” Remy’s voice followed him. “The Corporation’s dogs are still on the hunt for you. There’s no place to hide on that station.”
He stopped halfway through the hatch and glanced back at her. She held the nightie in her hands and his body tightened at the sight. Damn it to hell.
“You have nowhere to be but here on the Steel Coyote. We need to get gone. Now.”
He cursed long and hard but headed for the bridge. He knew when he was in a corner and when to throw in the towel. Damn well didn’t like it, but he could swallow his pride to save his life.
“Excellent choice, Max.” Saint was always right, damn him.
Chapter Six
Remy shook with anger and confusion, both emotions warring with each other, making her gut churn. If Gina checked, she’d find Max had paid their port fee and for the fuel. They had moments to get the hell out of there before the military police grew a brain.
She slammed into the bridge and went to the comm station. Her finger trembled as she hit the button to contact the dockmaster.
“Steel Coyote to Azesus.”
“Azesus station.”
“Permission to disengage docking clamps and depart.” She heard Max step up behind her, but she wasn’t ready to look at him again. Not yet.
A few moments passed and she assumed the dockmaster was checking on their port fees. “Permission granted. Stand by.”
Remy let out a breath and straightened. “Get
your ass in that seat and get ready to take off. We don’t have much time.”
For once, Max didn’t complain or make a joke. He sat down and started prepping the helm to leave. The docking clamps released with a solid thunk and the hiss of hydraulics from the ship’s airlocks.
“Steel Coyote, ready to depart, Azesus.”
“Roger that, Steel Coyote.”
She sat down heavily in the navigator’s seat. “Go. Now.”
Max did as she bade, again, and the ship left port, gliding past the other ships until they hit open space. The blackness of beyond beckoned them, and Max engaged the thrusters. She held onto the comm panel, waiting for something to happen. Gina wouldn’t let them go that easily, would she?
The woman was ruthless and she knew Remy had been lying.
Why would she search for Max and then accept he didn’t exist? Too many people had seen him and his credit chip had been used to pay. It was child’s play to connect the name, the description, and the man to the Steel Coyote.
More importantly, who had killed the old man, or was he really dead?
Either question led her to the most important one: Why would they set up Max? Who knew about him and his connection to the ship? The only people who did were Cooper and the merchants and dockmasters they’d come across. It wasn’t as if she blasted it through the quadrant that she’d gotten tangled up with this pilot.
The very real threat from the Corporation made the small hairs on her neck stand up.
Something wasn’t right, and she wanted to know why. The mystery would follow them like a cloud of acid all the way to Haverty. Someone didn’t want them to get there, and she’d be damned if she let a mysterious dark force stop her.
Max’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. “Was it because of the credits?”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
“You have a date you need to get ready for? A skirt to press?” No hiding the real him, the sarcastic man who masqueraded as a confident, good-looking pilot.
“I can iron your face if you’d like.” She hadn’t meant to say that.
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