An Unexpected Debt

by S. J. Pajonas

  “The very same. Amira tells me you need some protection for your ship. Mind telling me why? I like to hear the stories behind my missions.”

  I inhale and thank the universe that I still have a massage coming up because thinking about this makes me tense. I suck in a quick breath at the reminder of the guns in my face, the way the men threw me to the floor, and the sound of Gus’s arm breaking. I blink a few times and push the memories farther back in my head where they belong.

  Someday, I’ll show them they messed with the wrong woman.

  Takemo Diaz is not the only person I’m seeking revenge on.

  “My ship has been hijacked before,” I say, pulling myself back to the present.

  “By whom? A private party? Pirates?”

  “The military,” I fill in.

  Her lips form an O, and she sucks in a breath that almost whistles. “You’ll never have enough firepower to go against the military. Sorry to say.”

  “Understood.” I swallow to keep my belly still. “I’m not particularly worried about them trying to hijack my ship again. But there was also trouble at flight school recently, and I think it’s time I protected myself and my crew.”

  She leans forward. “Wait a second. The ship that was hijacked over Sonoma, right? Were you on Amira’s ship, or were you in the escape pod that landed in the desert?”

  I swallow through my dry throat.

  “Desert” is all I can say.

  She nods slowly. “I see. Your rescue was the talk of the duonet for weeks, but they didn’t mention a name.”

  “The school kept my identity private.” I bob my head from side to side. “A favor to me after I threatened to sue them for their lack of security. My family has been in the news enough to last a lifetime. Anyway, the real problem is that I know the hijacker, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be the last time I run into her.”

  “Her? Was it Tina Cruz?” she asks.

  I file the name away for later and raise my eyebrows. “No. I don’t know Tina Cruz.”

  “You’re better off,” she says, her voice rumbling. “You’re not going to tell me who it was?”

  I press my lips together. “I think this is information better left unsaid.”

  I’m pretty sure Kalvin is keeping this a secret since he used to fly with Cressida and her crew. I glance down at my datapad and wonder where he is and what he’s doing. Has he finished his family business? Will I see him again before I leave Palo Alto? Last I heard, he was here.

  “What kind of ship do you fly now?” Kenzie asks, knocking me out of my head.

  “A Tanuki class cruiser. Do you know them?”

  She nods. “I know enough. I’ll familiarize myself with the layout and come up with the right solution for you. It’ll cost you, though.”

  “I have the credits.” Just enough to get me what I need. Hopefully, it’s enough.

  Kenzie stands up.

  “You’re Amira’s friend, so you get a discount,” she says, winking. “Amira doesn’t have a lot of friends, and if she’s willing to vouch for you, that means a lot in my book.”

  “I don’t know how long I’m going to be on Palo Alto.”

  She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll find you.”

  Finder of things, right.

  My wristlet chimes with a reminder to attend my next spa session, and by the time I look back up again, Kenzie is gone, like she was never there in the first place.

  12

  “Skylar, I have news for you.”

  Ai’s voice in my bathroom is startling. Especially since I’m naked from the waist up. I just put my makeup on in the bathroom mirror, but I haven’t dressed yet.

  “Can I at least get a bra on first before you butt in? I should never have given you room controls.” I hesitated at the hotel room control panel, but I decided to let Ai access everything. An amateur mistake.

  “Skylar, have I ever made a comment about your full breasts and how men turn to look at them as you walk past?”

  I lift my eyes to the ceiling. “You just did.”

  “Well, they are spectacular. You are one lucky woman.”

  I sigh as I grab my bra from the dressing rack in the bathroom and throw it on.

  “What’s this news you have for me?” I pull on my underpants and slip too while I’m at it.

  “The first stage of our Takemo Diaz campaign is complete. Would you like to view the footage?”

  “Yes!” I glance around the bathroom, looking for a place to sit and enjoy this, but I’m better off in the suite. I open the closet in the main room and pull out a robe, then take a seat on the bed. “Let’s have it.”

  Ai projects the footage to my ocular implant, and my smile grows by ten times.

  “You’ll see the cleaning crew in this footage. They came through three days ago. Then Carlos overwrote this footage with just them cleaning from a previous evening. This is the unedited footage.”

  I watch as the crew comes in and gets to work. Half of the team on the left actually clean. They vacuum and dust, but they also move all the furniture. Not a lot. Just a bit. Enough for it to make a difference but not be noticeable at first glance.

  The other part of the cleaning crew is along the interior wall. We did a lot of research on this because, after all, this is a space station, and we don’t want anyone to die. But this wall is not pressurized, and it’s the perfect spot for this prank.

  “I’m going to speed up the footage, but you’ll get the picture,” Ai says.

  I watch as the team makes quick work of the situation. They drill five holes along the wall behind Takemo’s desk, dump the crickets in, and then seal it back up. I hired the best of the best for this operation. The man who comes along behind them patches each hole like he’s a fucking artist. The patch is indistinguishable from the original wall. Sorry, crickets. You’ll die in that wall, but you’re doing a valuable service.

  The crew cleans up after themselves, they vacate the office, and the lights shut off.

  “Three hours later,” Ai says, speeding up the footage.

  The lights come on, and Takemo comes striding into the room. He immediately bumps into the couch and trips on the chair opposite it. I snicker as his morning coffee flies from his hands and lands on the floor.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Ai asks.

  “It is. I love it.”

  After a short clean-up period where he and his assistant are on their hands and knees mopping up the floor, Takemo stands in the office and stares at his furniture. I giggle to the point of losing my breath. He just stands there and stares at it, like it’s going to move and try to trip him again. But his datapad rings, and he gets to work.

  “How long until the crickets drive him insane?” I ask Ai, hoping for even better news.

  “It took approximately five point three hours. Let me cut right to it.”

  The video cuts abruptly to Takemo standing in his office and staring at the wall with the crickets in it.

  I burst into a laugh that doubles me over and makes my eyes tear up. I lose any semblance of normalcy as he steps to the wall and presses his ear to it. The next cut of the video has his assistant in the room pressing his ear to the wall as well.

  “And then he leaves and doesn’t return,” Ai says. “There is now a maintenance ticket in the system to open up the wall and find out what’s in there. Takemo boarded a shuttle and left the station about two hours after.”

  I wipe away my tears and calm my breathing.

  “Thanks, Ai. That’s just what I needed to get this day together.”

  “You’re welcome, Skylar. Phase two will commence after your charity event.”

  That’s awesome. Maybe I should feel guilty about doing that to him, but I don’t care. Suck on it, Takemo.

  Time to get dressed! I slip into the dress and finish my makeup when the hotel room door chimes.

  “Coming!” I call out, rushing to the door. The length of my dress swishes around my ankles, and I have to hold o
n to it so that I don’t trip over the fabric. Without my heels on, it’s at least eight centimeters too long.

  I open the door as I get an earring in, and Marcelo is standing in the doorway, decked out in a fancy suit, his hands in his pockets.

  “Are you my surprise date?” I raise my eyebrows at him twice. “I thought I was meeting an eligible bachelor tonight?”

  “Funny,” he says, stepping in and closing the door behind him. He takes one of my hands and smiles as he holds it out to the side. “Lookin’ good, Ms. Skylar. You clean up nice.”

  “Thanks,” I say with a smirk and a laugh. “I really only let myself go when I’m studying and testing night and day. There wasn’t even enough time to get my nails done.”

  There was only time to visit the love hotels for a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. We both know this, but it’s better left unsaid.

  “There’s rarely enough time in the world for the things we want to do. That’s the nature of life,” Marcelo says, coming into the suite’s living room and sitting in one of the plush armchairs. “How was everything at the spa? To your liking?”

  I sit down at the lighted makeup table and examine my face for any last-minute touchups. I kept everything understated except for a sharp navy blue cat eye and a deep pink lip to contrast with the petal pink nails. They both go well with the sparkling navy dress Marcelo rented for the occasion. No need to buy something like this that I’ll only ever wear once. It fits like a glove, though. Marcelo is good at this.

  “Yes, everything was top-notch. No complaints.”

  I drop my eyes as I remember Dominic’s threats and Kenzie’s interruption of my day. A million thoughts go through my head daily, but adding another debt and the purchase of illegal weapons to my list makes everything else worse.

  I drum my fingers on the makeup table and stare at myself in the mirror.

  I’ve debated this moment for weeks — to tell or to keep my secrets.

  But as I laid on the massage table this afternoon, I decided I can’t go any farther on this journey without help.

  Marcelo is the help I need.

  “Marcelo?” I set down my blusher brush and look at him in the mirror.

  “Yes?” He’s schooling his lips into a line.

  My chest rises and falls as I consider what to do or say. There are dozens of things I need to confess to Marcelo, but I can’t open my mouth and burden him with too much at once. I need to pick and choose. There will be a slow reveal.

  Do I start with my family problems? Or maybe I should go right to my fears about my inability to connect with men? Or should I confess about the weapons? About Cressida hijacking my flight school ship?

  Oh my God. I keep way too many secrets.

  “There’s a problem with my mom and her network,” I blurt out and close my eyes.

  His lips fall into a frown.

  “What kind of problem?” he asks.

  I open my mouth and close it again.

  Skylar, you can walk this back. You can keep the dirty laundry where it belongs.

  Marcelo sees my hesitation and stands up. “Spill it, Ms. Skylar, or we’re going to be having serious words about keeping secrets.”

  “Fuck,” I breathe out and close my eyes. I glance at the time via my wristlet. “You know what? We don’t have time for this right now.”

  I stand up to put some distance between us when he steps into my path. “We’re not meeting your date for another thirty minutes. So, tell me what’s going on, right now.”

  I sink into the armchair across from Marcelo’s, but he won’t sit again. He stands over me like the loving but disapproving father I should have always had.

  “Miguel was the right choice for Mom. She did well there. And Juan was a real find, for sure.” I place my hand over my heart. “But, my dad and Dominic?” I swallow and stall.

  Marcelo juts his head forward, leaning in to hear more.

  “Okay, you know how whenever you showed up on Mom’s ship, I was always with my brothers and sisters? That’s because I was their parent, not Mom, and not any of her consorts.”

  He blows out a short breath. “What? What do you mean you were their parent?”

  I hold out my hand, palm up. “Well, see, Mom had two boys with Miguel and then finally me and Ana with my dad. And after my dad was done being a dad, he left, and Dominic made me take care of everyone else.”

  Marcelo sits down, his eyebrows furrowed together. “You don’t just stop being a dad, Ms. Skylar.”

  “I know.” My voice is a lot smaller than I like.

  Marcelo turns to stare at the wall for a moment before blowing out a sharp breath. “Okay, explain it to me in small terms. What do you mean by taking care of your brothers and sisters?”

  I close my eyes and recount all I’ve done, all I’ve lost sleep for.

  It’s too much. I’ll start with the basics.

  “Well, for Oliver and Raphael, I handled all of their schooling, getting them into those private schools on Ossun and Rio. I paid them weekly allowances and bailed them out of the trouble they would get in. And you know Ana…”

  He nods.

  “Well, once I found out that she was bulimic, I got her therapy and help from the doctors. I’ve been to every doctor’s appointment until I flew with Vivian. I held her when she cried and… when she messed up and relapsed, oh, a hundred times.”

  My voice cracks, so I look away.

  “Everything was fine with Dominic the first five years until Jukia was born, and then he realized that taking care of kids was not his passion. He handed Jukia off to eight-year-old me and told me to play with the baby while he did whatever the hell he wanted to.”

  “What?” Marcelo’s voice is harsh, but I plow on.

  “But Jukia was an easy one in every regard. She slept through the night pretty quickly. And then as a teen, she studied well, too. I had to help her decide on which culinary school to go to and pay for all of that. All while learning to fly because that’s what I loved and what Mom expected me to be doing.”

  “What was your Mom doing this whole time? Why didn’t they go to their actual fucking parents?” Marcelo bites out.

  This is the first time I have ever heard Marcelo use the f-word, and a big warning sign flashes in my head.

  “Because I was their parent. I raised them all. They handed me Ana when I was six and told me to watch her while my dad went and had beers with his friends.” I shrug. “Thank God we were already toilet trained. I raised Jukia, Cameron, and Nolan too because once Dominic and Juan realized they could hand off their kids and keep their freedom, it was the first thing they did. I slept in the same bed with Cameron and Nolan when they were babies, gave them bottles at night…”

  I stop. Marcelo’s face is a harsh shade of crimson.

  “You were a first-born daughter!” he growls. “That’s… outrageous.”

  He stands up and paces the room from one end to the other. I sit absolutely still and count to ten.

  “A lot of this was my fault,” I say, reaching out a hand to calm him.

  He whirls around. “Don’t you dare try to take the blame for this.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I could have said no. I didn’t.” I didn’t because the shame and guilt that pressed into me from all sides kept me quiet.

  “You were a child. And grown adults took advantage of you.” He crosses to me in three swift strides. “Did they ever threaten you? To keep you in line?”

  I chew on my bottom lip and then remember my perfect lipstick.

  “Oh God, they did, didn’t they?” he asks.

  “It wasn’t that bad.” I hate the lie that comes from my mouth enough to walk it back. “But yeah, they threatened… Aw fuck. They threatened a lot.” My lips shake, and my heart races. “They tried to take away my schooling, and… Dominic was the worst of them. He canceled far-school on me so many times, I was afraid to even speak around him.”

  I press my hand to my belly as it rumbles with displeasure and
my head spins. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “No,” he says, stepping forward with his eyes wide. “Deep breath. In through your nose and out through your mouth. In, out. In, out.”

  I follow his prompts until my stomach calms and the room stops spinning.

  “You loved far-school, right?” he asks, getting into my eye line. “You always speak so highly of it.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say, nodding and bringing a smile back to my face. “It was tough because I rarely knew anyone there, but I always had a great time. There were a few people I would see on the regular… Some special people.” I think of the boy I was in love with back then and never saw again. I wish that had worked out. “But overall, I was just so happy to be away… from… home.”

  Yeah, there it is. I would have rather been away with a bunch of strangers than home with my family.

  “The work always piled back on as soon as I got back on the ship. Mom’s consorts hated covering for me while I was gone, and Ana couldn’t handle anything. I would sit at far-school on my last day and delay delay delay. I would do anything not to return home.”

  “Does Vivian know about this?” Marcelo asks, finally sitting in the armchair.

  I shake my head. “I never told her. Dominic knew all the things to keep me quiet, the threats…” I swallow. “The shame.” I fan my face because I’ve broken into a sweat. “I knew that if her mom found out, that might be the end of me.”

  “The end of you?”

  “Well, yeah. She would go after Mom, and then, if Mom believed her, the consorts would come after me. Nothing good would come of it. I was a kid, and I couldn’t run away, though I tried to once. And now I’m an adult, and I can’t get away from my past.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he breathes out.

  “Um, Marcelo, this is not the worst of the news I have for you today. I’m so, so sorry.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me, so I launch into the tale of how Mom lost all her ships, and the Mikasa is now Takemo Diaz’s property. By the time I’m done, his head is in his hands, and the room is deathly quiet.

  I recheck the time. Shit.

  “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave right now.”