Caught in Amber (17 page)

Sasha’s eyebrows rose, surprised she’d hit so close to the mark. She was Sterling’s sister; quickness must run in the family. “A former addict, yes, but not on a crusade. Just trying to offer a little advice.”

“I can handle it. Guy and the others are really good to me.” She sounded defensive, but then the frown lines softened on her face. “I know you’re just trying to be nice. Thanks. Can you stay for a bit? In case I need to puke or something?”

Sasha nodded, and Kylie’s eyes drifted closed. As she sat on the edge of the bed, Sasha’s gaze fell on the blue marble. Anger bubbled in her gut. How could Guy give her something like that when he’d been all over Sasha about her addiction? How could he encourage Kylie?

“I should smash that damn box,” she muttered.

“No, please don’t,” Kylie said, half asleep.

Sasha felt heat rise on her face. She hadn’t meant for Kylie to hear her, or to think about the box and its contents.

“It was a present.”

“From Guy?” Sasha asked with unmasked derision.

“No,” the girl replied. “From Marco. He likes me.”

* * *

Back inside the car, with the heater running to thaw his numb toes, Sterling’s eyes were half closed when the comm blipped another alert. His eyes flew open and he snatched up the device. Sasha’s heart rate had elevated again, but dropped back to near normal.

What the hell was going on in there? Was she in danger? He knew the reasons vital signs rose and fell. Initial fear or anger then the body dealing with it. Surprise or joy or...sex.

His muscles went rigid and his pulse pounded in his ears.

Don’t overreact
.
She’s got a good head on her shoulders. Keep that in mind.

Right. She was no longer attracted to Christiansen. She’d said that more than once. She wouldn’t engage in sex with him of her own accord, and the vitals weren’t sustained long enough to indicate she was being forced.

Sterling drew a slow breath through his nose and blew it out his mouth. Sasha was fine. In his head, he knew that was likely true, that he should go back to his room and let her do what needed to be done. But his racing heart and restlessness demanded he do something. Now. With no idea how he’d explain dropping in on Christiansen, he reached for the starter.

A bright spotlight flooded the car interior, nearly blinding him as the whine of an air car’s anti-grav lifters approached from behind. The vehicle set down, sending a violent swirl of snow and grit whipping around his car.

Diverted from a reckless path but needing to expend some of the pent-up energy coursing through him, Sterling retrieved his pulser from the seat and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Could be someone looking to rob a stranded traveler. If so, he or she was in for a bit of a surprise. More likely a security patrol wanting to know why he was parked there. If he’d actually needed a lawman, sure as hell he wouldn’t have been able to find one.

He shoved the door open as the snow and dust settled and stepped out. The spotlight worked to keep his normal eye blinded, but the artificial one adjusted well enough for him to see a tall figure approach. Silhouetted against the harsh light, the woman—by the form-fitting clothes, that much was evident—held no weapon, and she seemed to be alone. Her arms swung casually at her sides, and the cold breeze tossed her hair around her head.

Dressed in a black flight suit, this was no lawman. Sterling frowned as Genevieve Caine stopped several meters in front of him and rested her hands on her hips.

“Good evening, Mr. Hollings,” she said over the air car’s idling engine. “Care to tell me what you’re doing here?”

Chapter Twelve

Sterling shoved his hands into his coat pockets. He wrapped his fingers of his right hand around the pulser’s grip and thumbed the safety off. His left hand touched leather. Genevieve Caine tilted her head, her gloved hands curled slightly, as if in anticipation of having to reach for a weapon. Where the hell was she hiding a weapon in that outfit?

He withdrew his hands and showed her his pair of gloves. Christiansen’s majordomo—or enforcer, or whatever she was—relaxed a micron as he tugged them on.

It was a delay tactic, and a poor one at that, but it gave him a few precious seconds to think. To wonder how she’d known he was here. To wonder if Christiansen knew the real reason Sasha was at the house, or who Kylie was to him. Had they set a tracker on his car while it sat at the warehouse last night? Did Christiansen have him under surveillance?

The how didn’t matter now. What came next did.

“Well, Mr. Hollings?”

He shrugged. “Just out for a drive. Stopped to stretch my legs.”

She studied him for a few moments then smiled. “You’re a terrible liar, but maybe you knew I wouldn’t believe anything you said anyway.” She crossed her arms and the smile faded. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way she looks at you. It’s more than a business relationship.”

His jaw twitched, but otherwise he kept his features still to prevent revealing his thoughts. This wasn’t about Kylie, thankfully, but he mentally cursed his lack of discretion regarding Sasha. Still-fresh memories from the kiss he’d shared with her the night before flooded his brain.

Yeah, it was more than a business relationship. But it shouldn’t be.

He swallowed hard. “I do care about her. That’s true.” No sense in denying it. Caine was as good at reading people as Natalia Hallowell. “But business first.”

She shifted her feet, cocking her hip out. The casual stance belied the intensity of her gaze. “You don’t get it. You’re playing a dangerous game. Both of you. Christiansen doesn’t tolerate those kinds of games.”

“Unless he’s winning.”

She smiled again, but it was humorless, bordering on cruel. “He almost always wins. And when he doesn’t, everyone suffers.”

A frigid gust blew her hair about her head and cut into Sterling’s trousers where his wool coat gapped. She didn’t seem affected by the cold, even wearing nothing but the leather jumpsuit. She was either a stone-cold bitch or there were thermals in the suit. Probably both.

“I’m no fool, Miss Caine,” he said. “Sasha and I knew going in that Christiansen might still have feelings for her.” Might? They’d counted on it.
He’d
counted on it. “If Christiansen wants her and she wants him—” his head throbbed at the thought, “—then I’m obliged to step aside. I can’t offer her all the fancy living he can, but it’s her choice. Not mine.”

Caine stared at him for a moment then dropped her gaze to her boots, shaking her head. “Interesting.” She took a deep breath and looked at him again. “She’s fine. I promise you.”

Sterling nodded once. “I appreciate that.” She nodded back then turned and walked to her air car. Squinting into the spotlight, he called out to her. “So Christiansen knows I’m out here.”

Damn the void. He’d fucked up. What would happen to the deal? To his chance at saving Kylie? To Sasha?

With one hand on the door handle, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “As far as he’s concerned, I’m off duty and you’re back in Pandalus. Good night, Mr. Hollings.”

He nodded again, a modicum of relief washing through him.

Caine got in her air car, cut the spotlight and engaged the lifters. Melted snow and dust blasted him on waves of hot air as she rose, their gazes holding and an enigmatic grin on her face. She angled the car toward the city. Sterling watched until her red and amber taillights were lost in the rainbow brilliance coming from Pandalus.

What did confronting him on her own say about Genevieve Caine? At the house, she was the loyal employee. Just now, it sounded like she wouldn’t tell the drug dealer Sterling was dogging Sasha. Yet. She’d keep the information to herself as long as it suited her needs. Which meant she had him and Sasha caught by some short, delicate hairs.

* * *

Kylie slept curled on her side facing Sasha, her knees drawn against her chest. One hand clutched the edge of the blanket beneath her chin. She frowned and whimpered now and again, as if caught in a nightmare.

“Shhhh, it’ll be all right.” Sasha stroked the girl’s forehead and brushed a sweat-dampened strand of hair off her face.

She could kill Marco for doing this to Kylie. She wasn’t the first, of course, but Sasha wanted her to be the last. How many other women had he supplied with drugs in exchange for favors? It wasn’t too far a reach to assume Marco was somehow responsible for the dead girls Sterling had shown Sasha. He’d gotten them caught in amber, Guy had become disgusted with them and thrown them out. But
why
would Marco do that? Just to get the women Guy was interested in? Was that why Marco had offered her amber years ago?

Whatever the reason, it ended here.

Though she’d just met Kylie, Sasha felt overwhelming protectiveness toward her. Perhaps it was because the girl was Sterling’s sister, and Sasha wanted to do this for him. For all three of them, if truth be told. She would get Kylie away from Guy and Marco and amber—kicking and screaming, if necessary—and return her to her family. Sterling would be happy. Relieved. Grateful. And Sasha would feel redeemed, at least a little, to see his smile.

His gratitude might include his arms around her and his mouth coming down on hers. Of gentle kisses that quickly evolved into a passionate give and take. Of hands roaming over bare skin.

A soft knock on the door startled Sasha out of her half-dream state, interrupting what could only be fantasy. She sighed as she swung her legs off the bed, but the door eased open before she could stand.

Guy leaned in, his gaze traveling from Sasha to Kylie and back again. He wasn’t quite frowning, but there was more than concern on his face. “She okay?”

Sasha nodded and smoothed the blanket over Kylie. She rose, careful not to disturb the girl, and walked to the door. Guy moved aside to let her into the hall, but Sasha stopped at the entry. One hand on the frame and the other holding the edge of the door, she made it clear she intended to stay put.

Guy’s look became more confused than concerned. “Aren’t you going to finish dinner with me?”

“She’ll feel like she’s been hit with a speeding air lorry when she wakes up,” Sasha said. “Someone should be here.”

“I’ll have Maddie or Rhianna come up.”

Sasha quirked an eyebrow at him. “Have they dealt with near overdoses before?”

She was exaggerating Kylie’s condition, but it wouldn’t hurt Guy to understand what was going on. Did he realize Marco supplemented his “employees’” habits? Disgust for Guy’s second in command made her want to hit something. Preferably the man himself.

Guy narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t that bad.” He must have questioned the others at the pool.

She mimicked his stance, not letting the fact that he’d called her bluff diminish her position. “Maybe not, but if she’d been left to her own devices, or if one of the others had brought her up, she might have taken another hit and that
would
have caused her to OD.”

The lines around his mouth and across his forehead deepened as he frowned. “I’m not blind, Sasha. I know that most of my ‘friends’ are with me for the amber. It comes with the territory. But you know how I feel about overabuse in my own house.”

Oh, she knew, all right, and almost laughed out loud at the irony of one of the planet’s biggest amber dealers angry about drug use. But he wasn’t the one supplying Kylie. He wasn’t the one who’d helped keep Sasha hooked.

She should tell Guy what she suspected, but that would mean revealing her own connection to Marco. Guy would confront Marco, and Marco would tell Guy everything, including her sleeping with him for amber while she’d been with Guy.

She couldn’t tell. Not now. Not when she needed him to trust her. Not when the thought of admitting her actions made her want to heave.

No one would find out about her and Marco. No one.

Sasha moistened her lips and willed her turbulent stomach to settle. “I do know how you feel about it,” she said. “Let me stay with her. I can relate better than anyone here.”

Guy looked as if he was about to deny her then sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “Fine. Stay with her tonight. Tell her if she overindulges again, she’s out.” The angry lines softened around his mouth and between his eyes. “Can I get you anything?”

“My comm.” She needed to contact Sterling, let him know she was all right. He was probably waiting for her call.

The frown lines returned to his face, but Guy didn’t ask why she wanted the device. “I’ll have someone bring it up. Anything else?”

“No. I’ll borrow something of Kylie’s to sleep in. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

He nodded and opened his arms. “Thanks, Sasha. I’m glad you’re here.”

Sasha hesitated then went to him. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. Her arms encircled Guy’s body as a show of goodwill, but she didn’t return the emotion of his hug. His spicy cologne and soft, white shirt should have been inviting, but she turned her head and kept her cheek from touching him. His wasn’t the chest she wanted to bury her face against. Not by a long shot. Sterling’s damp wool and earthy scent gave her a sense of security Guy could never achieve.

When she tried to break contact, Guy tightened his hold. His firm chest and strong arms kept her in place. He nuzzled her ear and whispered, “I wish you were staying for
me
.”

Icy panic shot through her. Sasha set her hands on his sides and pushed him away, surprised he stepped back without resistance.

“Relax, sweetness,” he said with a grin. “I just miss you, is all.”

Sasha crossed her arms, as much of a barrier between them as she could manage. “Let’s stick to friends for now.”

His wavering between the solicitous ex who didn’t want to scare her off and the aggressive pursuer was troubling. How long before he got tired of being the nice guy?

“Sure.” He withdrew his comm from his pants pocket and walked toward the hallway intersection. “I’ll get your comm sent up right away. See you at breakfast.”

Sasha waited for him to turn the corner then retreated into the room and closed the door. She locked it and the door to the adjoining lav so they could only be opened from within Kylie’s bedroom. Guy could access any room, of course, but having locked doors between herself and the rest of the household made her feel a little better.

She walked to the dresser, the blue marble box at the edge of her vision as she searched the drawers for something to sleep in. When her comm arrived, she’d send a short text to Sterling. Guy probably monitored incoming and outgoing calls, so she’d have to be careful. No names, just something to let him know she’d found Kylie and was fine.

Wide awake and not even close to feeling comfortable about closing her eyes under Guy’s roof, Sasha glanced down at Kylie as she undressed. At least
she
was getting some sleep.

* * *

Sterling’s comm trilled as he returned to the driver’s seat. Not the alarm from Sasha’s chip, but a message from her.

Spending nite w/gf. C U tom.

Girlfriend? She must mean Kylie.

Despite his concern for them, he smiled, relieved she’d made contact with his sister and that they were both all right. The message lacked details, but that was to be expected. She was smart to assume Christiansen might be monitoring communications. More importantly, there was no feeling of urgency. Sterling closed his eyes and laid his head back on the seat as some of the day’s tension eased from his shoulders and neck.

She was safe. Sleeping in her drug-dealer ex’s home, pretending to want to work with him so she could betray him, but safe.

Sterling forced down the rise of disgust against Christiansen and set the comm to alert him if Sasha changed location. He started the vehicle and executed a U-turn on the road. Heading back toward Pandalus, he gave himself a mental kick for acting so rashly. She was fine. Kylie was fine.

Genevieve Caine finding him on the side of a dark road was
not
fine.

He knew when he’d hauled ass out of his room that there was little he could do, but he’d had to do something. Futile acts weren’t his usual mode of operation, though he’d felt a little better being closer to the women.

Don’t fool yourself. You felt better being closer to
Sasha
.

Sterling frowned as he maneuvered around a slower car. Damn the void. He was pining after Sasha like some forlorn schoolboy.

Back within city limits, he passed the route to his room over the Revivalist Hall and continued on to Sasha’s neighborhood. The blue streetlights showed no one on the walkways as he parked across the street from her building with the engine running. Working-class folks tended to stay home in the evenings. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too suspicious of a strange car and call the police.

In her old place, no one paid attention to anyone. Out of fear or apathy, he didn’t know. Sterling had observed more than a few low-life dealers when he’d first started scoping Sasha for help. It surprised him when he’d followed her home from work, her skirt swishing around her legs and her head down, how she ignored the temptation around her. Ignored the world.

Or at least seemed to. Either the chip was doing its job keeping her cravings at bay, or she was as determined as she’d claimed to stay off amber. He knew now it was more of the latter, but he still worried about her.

He’d never imagined how strong she really was. To have made it through what she did, to be tempted with amber now and resist was something few people he knew would have been able to do. Sasha was one hell of a woman. She’d need her strength more than ever in the days to come, but more importantly, once this was over. With her chip deactivated, she wouldn’t have the ’bots to help her with the craving.