Silver Bound (16 page)

A satisfied smirk crossed his face briefly before he reached toward Jewel again. Like a standoff, nobody moved. Guy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of how to get that device from Kalon. The small hope it represented was overshadowed by the power Kalon Geanus had with it in his possession. If he shot a hole in the man’s chest, he wouldn’t make it to the device before Kalon’s goons returned fire. He didn’t like the odds of taking them all down before one of them landed a shot, either at him or, of all horrors, Jewel. If he died, would Jewel be safe with the Broker in reach, or would she die, too?

“Sheriff, we both know you aren’t allowed to own a slave. We both know you’ve been boning my wife. I’ll forgive you for that instead of gutting you as I wish to do, because it wasn’t your fault. You had no understanding of your trespass. You do now. Give me the bracelet so my wife can go home.”

“Like hell,” he growled, but deep down, he doubted. Jewel didn’t belong to him. She wasn’t a slave. It was her choice.

A scuffle broke out in the hallway.

“Get your hands off her,” Thomas shouted.

“We want no trouble,” Dr. Wells said in a calm, carrying voice, drowning out the shuffling in the hallway. Wells stepped into view, shrugging aside one of the Geanus goons to speak to Kalon. “If this man has enslaved another man’s wife, then I’ll support you in any way possible.”

“Ah, the famous Dr. Wells. Your hacker had useful technology, but you should know your men. He sold his solution to the highest bidder.”

Wells didn’t react to the taunt, his expression lightening. “He did it, then? He cracked the programming?”

“He did. He sold it to me but tried to back out of the deal. He met with a small accident.”

Wells waved a hand in front of his face. “You have the codes? You’ll be using them on your wife?”

“I bought out the hacker because I wanted his help with my little filly of a wife, but he didn’t have the silver-tip mods I needed and tried to go behind my back to sell what I’d paid for. When he couldn’t make the mods I requested, and she ran, I decided she deserved to be a slave. To me. Not to the sheriff, there, but this works almost as well. She won’t run again, will she?”

“Bastard,” Jewel hissed behind him.

Kalon didn’t even look at her. The pit of Guy’s stomach soured.

“I need those codes,” Wells insisted.

“Nobody’s getting anything, not until this is all straightened out,” insisted Brice, who splayed his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

Kalon stared at Wells while the air in the room grew heavy.

Guy gripped his six-shot. He didn’t stand much chance of shooting his way out, with all those people between Jewel and the door, but he had no choice. He had to try. Once the weapons heated, Brice would have his back. He hoped.

Kalon interrupted the stalemate. “This is how it will work. Jewel will come home to her son, or she’ll never see him again. I’ll let the sheriff live if she does as she’s told. But if I ever see him again, he’ll suffer before he dies.”

“Jewel isn’t going anywhere with you.” A sick feeling ran through him, and his mouth ran dry.

A squeeze on his shoulder accompanied a pained sob. A whisper he’d remember to his dying day, the sound ripping out his heart, blew across the back of his neck.

“I have to go. He means it, Guy. He’ll kill you. He’ll take Jared from me. If I go, even handicapped like this, I can protect him from his father. Maybe only a little, but maybe that little will help him be a good man.”

Kalon knew his ex-wife well. He didn’t seem concerned, just held the Broker loosely in his hand and lounged against the doorframe. He stared at Jewel while speaking to his men. “I have a few questions for the good doctor. Load him and his companions onto the transport. Leave the seat next to mine open for my wife.”

Another day, Guy might’ve run the man in for using an illegal off-world transport on an environmentally protected planet, but the only thing he could focus on was the Broker dangling like a neglected prize in Kalon’s hand.

“Nobody is going anywhere,” Brice growled as he reached for the comm clipped to his chest.

With a move faster than he could follow, Kalon’s hand shot out. The spark of a phaser zipped through the air. The smell of ozone ripped through the room. Brice fell to the floor in a lump without a sound.

Wells fell to his knees beside Brice, fingers to his neck’s pulse point. As soon as the doctor eased back with a nod, the burning anger throttled back an inch. Brice was knocked out, but he was alive.

Kalon hadn’t even looked at the lawman he’d downed. Guy had no delusions. Kalon would use live fire on him.

“Jewel, bring me the bracelet. Hurry with it. You have two minutes to put it in the Broker before the pain hits you. Do it now, before I decide to take it off your lover’s dead body.”

The icy chill that came with that pronouncement didn’t break the circle of blazing heat curling around Guy’s intestines. Rage shook him, making his limbs tremble, as light fingers brushed at his wrist.

If this was what she wanted, he wouldn’t stop her. He wasn’t worth the risk of all these lives. She’d have her husband, who she’d admitted treated her with a distance, but not badly. Kalon wouldn’t hurt her. He damn well wouldn’t hurt her or Guy would gut him in a slow, painful emboweling. Jewel would have her son. Her home. What was the alternative? Him? A derisive laugh fell from his lips as she removed the weightless band. Now that it was gone, he felt light enough to float through the ceiling, even as his feet remained leaden, soldered to the floor.

Her alternative would be to give up the aristocracy and live in secret shame, an illegal citizen. Slave to a man she’d never be able to get away from. A man who’d mean the loss of her son. A man who’d debauch her every night, no matter her own will.

He thought hell was watching her hand the master bracelet to Kalon. He was wrong.

Hell was Kalon pulling a pistol and aiming it at her head.

The world stopped. His breath stopped. The blood in his veins stopped.

Kalon didn’t pull the trigger. He waited. With a patience that showed the cruelty inside him better than any violence, Kalon watched Jewel with a patently sexual excitement.

Jewel stood, spine straight, her arm fallen to her side, and looked puzzled with a frown pulling her sensual lips down. Long moments passed. Standing with Guy’s silver band dangling in his fingers, Kalon didn’t put the control bracelet on the Broker. Guy didn’t dare move or breathe.

Hands clutching at her stomach, Jewel doubled over with a cry and fell to the floor.

She needed Guy to wear the bracelet, to call off the pain. He reached for her. Kalon flipped off his safety, but didn’t bother to aim at him. He put the muzzle to Jewel’s temple. Sweat dripped from her as she whimpered, her forehead creased with pain that etched itself into his soul.

Nothing had been as much torture before.

His skin burned, itched with the need to lash out. He fisted his hands. His arms corded, veins pumping fast and hard enough to bust. The room spun with black dots.

“This is her punishment for running. For your hands touching her.”

Kalon smiled as Jewel repeated, over and over, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are. This is a taste. You run again, it’ll be worse, my dear. If your lover comes near you again, you’ll beg to be put down. Don’t make me do this to you again. It pains me to see you so.” The pleasure on Kalon’s face showed that as a lie quite clearly.

Jewel stopped pleading. Guy’s jaw ached with the strain of clamping his teeth to keep vitriol from spilling out.

After another long minute of Jewel’s silent writhing, Kalon slipped the bracelet onto the Broker and handed it to one of his men. Steps receded down the hall, the device disappearing from his reach.

Desperation plowed into him. He couldn’t gun down three men, carry Jewel from this house and get his hands on the bracelet. He was a good shot, but not that good. Kalon held all the cards.

In the blink of an eye, the dam inside him broke. He launched at Kalon. The man grinned at him and took the brunt of his punch to the stomach. They fell to the floor.

Dust clouded the air and stung his eyes and nose.

His fists pounded into Kalon, who grappled and slugged in return. A hard punch to his kidney stole his breath. Kalon kneed him in the groin. While Jewel cried and beat uselessly against Kalon, Guy struggled to move from the ball he’d curled into, trying to catch his breath.

“Slog off,” she screeched.

Kalon kicked him in the back, re-injuring the bruises that hadn’t fully healed. “I’d kill you now, but I don’t want trouble on Taphgan. If I see you again, I will.”

Light speared behind his closed eyes. His burning lungs sucked in dusty air. He groaned and peeled his eyes open. Pulling his legs beneath him, he struggled to all fours.

With one powerful motion, Kalon swept Jewel over his shoulder, her head toward the floor, the arms of Guy’s jacket coming loose to hang down the back of Kalon’s expensive suit.

He crawled after them, forcing himself through the pain and to his feet.

Too late. She was gone.

The house was silent, and Guy was alone with the crumpled body of his friend and the stilted panting from his own tight lungs.

***

Montgomery dropped the medscanner.

“Need help with that, brother? Your hands are shaking so much you can’t—”

“My hands never shake.” With a quick bend, Montgomery snatched the scanner off the floor with solid control. Not a flutter in his fingers, nor in his stomach, unlike when he’d walked into his labs and directed Lady Wells to a gurney.

By claiming that he could only work in his own labs, Montgomery had convinced Geanus to let them go. Geanus had taken them back to the
Jeffreys
with an austere command to test the codes on Lady Wells. Montgomery didn’t doubt he’d hear from the man again, but he didn’t fear any repercussions. That wasn’t the style of the Terraloft. They turned a blind eye to most backstabbing and debauchery. Even murder. But they had a curious sense of Terraloft code to let each other be.

Montgomery did test the codes.

Keyed to DNA samples from both Lady Wells and Thomas, simulations had run for days. In that time, he and Aissa had talked. Really talked about what they’d gone through two years ago and since. She told him of being kidnapped by Paulus Keen, who ranted and raved about Montgomery getting the research funding Keen had coveted. How Keen brought in an unconscious Thomas, home on vacation before entering Spaceport pilot training. Keen stole DNA from Thomas and completed the coded imprinting with Aissa while Thomas was still under anesthesia.

Montgomery didn’t tell her he’d beaten Keen to death before spacing his body. He still had no remorse. What tore him up inside was hearing how he’d wasted two years avoiding talking to Aissa and Thomas. She’d never had sex with Thomas. They’d spent tortured and pained weeks finding a hole in the programming. They were able to fool it by using Thomas’s fantasies. He made himself believe his toying with other women while Aissa stood by appeased the silver-tip programming. Somehow she’d known how much the games pained him, but Thomas never let himself touch her. Aissa had always loved Montgomery and had never broken faith with him emotionally or physically.

If Montgomery had helped them through it, talked to them instead of withdrawing in hurt, they could’ve found a better solution. One that hadn’t torn their family apart.

“I’m sorry.” Neither of them responded. One day, maybe he and Thomas could come to terms with one another. He focused back on his work, work he’d double-, triple- and quadruple-checked. No matter how many times he ran the code, the results came out the same. Thirty percent chance of failure.

It would have to do. Thirty percent. He only had a seventy percent chance of living out the day, because no matter what, he couldn’t go on without his wife, his love, anymore. He was coming apart at the seams. His hands shook, for goodness sakes. They’d never done that before.

He leaned over his wife. “Are you ready?”

Her bright eyes stared up at him. She didn’t shake. She smiled.

“I’ve waited for you for years. Do it.”

Montgomery entered the command and held his breath.

“You’re an adulteress. I would brand you as such on your faithless forehead, but that collar tells everyone of your sins.” Kalon eyed her with a sneer on his deceptively handsome face.

Jewel’s mouth tasted bitter. She dropped her stare to Kalon’s slippered feet and didn’t voice the accusations she might have two short months ago. The man who even now shared his bed with two women—both of whom were married to other men—dared to pass judgment on her. She’d been given no choices in her ill-fated marriage. And if she were honest, she’d admit she’d had no choice but to make love with Guy, either.

But their last time together, two long months ago, had been her choice. Not the collar, not her circumstances. She hadn’t been married when she’d slept with Guy. Kalon had ensured the dissolution of their marriage, if not when he committed adultery within the first month of their marriage, then when he’d had her silver-tipped. She cut off all thought of Guy before his memory brought tears to her eyes that Kalon would misinterpret.

She was no adulteress.

Why did she feel so?

She didn’t view herself as married to Kalon. Thinking of living with the man instead of with Guy made her stomach pitch. If she felt like an adulteress, it was because she betrayed her true love.

Now she was simply the nanny who Kalon periodically liked to denigrate in some way for a little emotional torture. Other than those few moments every day or two, she was treated well enough, more like a prized employee than a member of the family, but maybe that was better than before. Other than in her dreams, when she imagined loving Guy or pictured shoving Kalon out an airlock for doing this to her, she kept her emotions buried.

For five years Kalon had hidden his infidelity. She might have remained ignorant if a few of his more spiteful bed partners hadn’t arranged for her to “accidentally” walk in on a tryst, though she’d remained unseen. Or the colorful vid she was sent from an ex-mistress Kalon dumped for a new blonde bombshell.

To this day, Kalon didn’t seem to realize she’d had no delusions about him. If she had to guess, she’d say that Kalon actually thought his ex-wife had believed him to be faithful.

Now he flaunted his mistress and her sometimes partner whenever he could. She felt pity. Kalon did as his father had done, and his father before. The extramarital affairs were standard with Terraloft, raised to this decadence and lifestyle. Kalon would never understand how she believed in a faithful love. For a while he’d protected her, in his own way, but he’d never feel love.

Not quite true. In his own way, Kalon loved Jared, but not enough to let him go, let him grow into an honorable man instead of a crime boss.

“Please allow me to take Jared to meet his grandfather. Quinn has waited for two months on the
Jeffreys.
It’s only a short shuttle ride.”

“You can’t leave. I’m too busy for a trip to the
Jeffreys.
” Kalon lounged back on the divan, belying the statement.

“He’s willing to come here.”

“I suppose I should allow the visit since your sheriff will undoubtedly come along. I have a nice trap set for him.”

She stilled. She didn’t give away the nervous flutter while she waited for him to continue. The gleam in his eye and smirk on his lips gave away the same self-assurance that usually heralded disappointment for her.

“You’ve been good, and I’ve decided to have the collar removed so that you may share my bed again.” He paused, as if she might protest, but her mouth had gone too dry to speak. “That Wells bitch proved the code works. I wouldn’t have tried it on you first. Jared needs you. We’ll be a family again.”

She nodded and croaked, “Yes.”

That’s when it clicked. Kalon wanted a family. He hadn’t had one growing up. His father, when not absentee, ignored him. His mother was a superficial, flighty woman who’d finally left when Kalon was turned over to his countless tutors.

He’d never been loved.

He’d never let Jared go. His son was the only person in the universe who’d ever loved him. He’d wanted Jewel to love him, but she couldn’t, so he’d had her silver-tipped, his way of making her love him.

She replied with what he wanted to hear, something that would’ve been true if he weren’t incapable of giving love and she hadn’t loved another. “Yes. We’ll be a family.”

Kalon’s smirk widened into a full-fledged smile, making him almost pleasant-looking.

What else could she say? She didn’t dare think of the alternatives. Not if she wanted to stay sane. She kept herself empty, unthinking, unless she thought of or played with Jared. That was all she was now, Jared’s mother. That was what everyone on
Station Geanus
called her. She was no longer Jewel. She was “Jared’s mother.”

Kalon’s pleasure in her response, in her apparent defeat, seemed to ease him. He relaxed back on the bed and smiled in benevolence. “The collar will come off, and you will renew your vows as I see fit.”

She didn’t twitch. With a force of will she’d learned to control over the past two months, she didn’t react. They’d make it out of this mess. She’d come up with a plan. She had to. She just hoped everything didn’t explode in her face. Whatever happened, Jared had to be kept safe.

***

In answer to the summons, Guy pushed through the double doors of the Slattern Tavern and slid along the wall to let his eyes adjust to the dimness.

The trouble was easy to find.

Lester, the barkeep, lifted his chin as an unruly customer clutched at the front of his apron. “Listen, Hank, I’m cutting you off just for tonight. You hit me, and you’ll be cut off permanently.”

The drunken cowhand cocked his arm back, slow and jerky, closed his meaty hand and aimed toward Lester.

Guy whipped out his lasso to cinch the drunk about the torso, catching him before his fist moved forward.

Lester smiled dimly before moving to the end of the bar to help the other oblivious customers, halfway to drunk, if he was any judge.

“Listen, Sheriff, I didn’t do nothin’.” Hank smelled like a moonshine rig gone sour.

A smell he was too familiar with these days. The barkeep had seen him frequently of late. That dim smile from Lester wasn’t the big grin, slap on the back and welcome he usually received here.

“Aw, come on. Lemme go.”

Barely hearing the cowpoke, he jerked himself back to the present. His mind had never wandered during an arrest before. “Hank, we’re taking a visit to the drunk cell.”

“My old lady won’t like that.”

“Should have thought of that before you started threatening the staff.”

“You know how a wife gets. Don’t take me in. She’ll cut me off.”

Cold seeped through him. He didn’t know how a wife could get. He never would. “You need to keep it quiet and cooperate.” He whipped toward the door with a tug on the lasso.

“No,” Hank bellowed. “Not goin’.”

Pistol drawn, he spun and zapped Hank with the stun. The big lug crashed to the floor.

“Lucky he didn’t smash his head.” The barkeep frowned.

Guy hadn’t noticed when the wiry little man had sidled up next to him. Carefully loosening his hold on his pistol, he shook out this arms and shoulders. His mouth tasted of tazered air and sour whiskey.

“You never used to stun them like the old sheriff. Hate to see you go that way.” Lester bent to check Hank’s pulse, as Guy should have done himself, then walked back to the bar.

Guy sat heavily in a chair near Hank’s head, bent to cuff the unconscious man to the bolted-down table leg and sent a proxy judgment request over his comm.

“I won’t take you in, Hank,” he muttered, though the loudly snoring drunk couldn’t hear him.

With a glance down, his attention snared on the leather tie he’d taken to wearing where his bracelet used to be. He’d never worn any jewelry before, but now he felt naked without something on his wrist. Eyes slammed closed, he cut off the groan before he added any further to his public downslide.

The past two months had been like this, clouded judgment and rash decisions. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He’d lost enough weight that his gun belt hung a little too low on his hips, and that was a problem because he itched to use his pistol so much he grabbed for it several times a day.

The beep of his comm preceded the sealed transmit of judgment against Hank, and though he probably couldn’t make heads or tails out of it, Guy pronounced the decision. “All right, bub. This is your third offense of drunk and disorderly. Your fine has already been debited from your cred.”

The continued snoring from the floor was the only answer.

He prodded Hank with the tip of his boot. “The next offense will take you to the slammer.”

Hank groaned and blinked his bloodshot eyes. “Got it, Sheriff.”

“Hope you do.” He removed the cuffs. Before he could rise to his full height, shackles in hand and prisoner released, a clap on his back brought him around, gun whipped out and leveled.

“Whoa, Sheriff.” Quinn raised hands in surrender.

He holstered his weapon and gave the older man his back. Without a word, he headed outside into the dark of night. The piercing blue eyes of Quinn, so like his daughter’s, stayed with him. He made himself not follow the instinct to run.

“Judge Norris told me you’d be here.” Quinn huffed from behind.

“That’s unethical, Mayor. You’re lucky I don’t bring you both up on charges to the Supreme Magistrate.”

“Why don’t you take my calls, son?”

“Son?” He shook his head. “We don’t have anything to discuss.”

Ignoring Quinn, he headed toward his air skate leaning against the side of the bar. He’d been riding the valleys when he got the call from the tavern. He hadn’t hesitated to respond. He had, however, ignored the dozen emergency coded messages from the town’s mayor. The same mayor, silver hair glinting in the streetlights, stepped around him and blocked the way to escape. Quinn looked as if he’d had a rough time of it, too—his clothes hung a little loosely and his eyes were bloodshot, with bags beneath.

“I’ve set things in motion, and I got the go-ahead from Jewel this morning. We need you, son.” The mayor fiddled with a vest button.

“The go-ahead?” His chest thumped in one big resonating thud. “What have you done?” Pushing past Quinn, he focused on his air skate and kept his dusty boots heading in that direction.

For a day or maybe a week—the time was fuzzy after Jewel left him on Taphgan—he’d been lost. The only thing that brought him out of his funk was the realization Jewel would be all right. That and Brice, who’d kicked his ass two ways to Starsday and threw out all the booze at the ranch. But Brice had to go back to being a mounty and couldn’t stay to kick him in the ass every day.

Jewel hadn’t made it to Grassland as she’d tried to do, but it wasn’t as if she’d intended to come live on Trident Ranch. Nothing had changed except that his foolish heart had hoped where it had no right. Nothing was different, except now he’d had a taste of a life he’d never have.

Through Brice, he’d found out Jewel wasn’t mistreated on
Station Geanus.
She was, in fact, being mother to her son and left to her own devices. Much more recon he couldn’t get since Kalon didn’t allow the law onto his station for long. Brice had gotten all he could, then his undercover deputy had been booted off station.

He didn’t have her, but she was safe and well. With her son.

“I’ve found a way to bring her home.” Quinn gripped his arm from behind.

The Sheriff of Rangetown figured he’d need to hang up his badge before he found a replacement, ’cause the pistol on his hip would probably run hot before he got out of this mess. He finally faced Quinn.

“What’s your plan?”

***

After orbiting for hours around
Station Geanus,
Guy had a new appreciation for smugglers. The wait in tight quarters made his heart race and his head pound. The escape pod crowded around him as the ship paused outside the station where both his greatest love and his greatest danger were oblivious. At least he hoped they were.

The lights flickered out in preparation for systems silence. There was no going back now. A loud screech echoed through the closed-in blackness.

The air staled. He sat in a reclined pilot seat. Four harnesses lined the wall for others to evacuate in emergencies. The belts were empty. In the back of the pod, a bundle of equipment strapped to the bulkhead jerked as the gravity cut, but the restraints held the packs in place. Beside him, the simple controls—essentially a dumbed-down U-panel with built-in beacons and navigation—dimmed.

The power cut to avoid detection. Silence.

The small airpocket closed around him like a coffin and the countdown began.

***

In the large empty landing bay Jewel blew bubbles, and Jared’s towhead bobbed as he jumped to catch them. Despite her fears about Jared’s response to witnessing Tazio’s death, her son was fine, resilient. Any scare he’d had when she was captured by station security had been soothed by his doting father. Kalon was many things, but he was careful with Jared to the point of spoiling him.

“Momma. More bubbles.”

Her son’s youth wouldn’t last long with his father. His innocence would burst like the clear bubbles she blew with the iridescent liquid. He tilted his head and stared at her through blue eyes like her own, with a knowing beyond his four years. Perhaps more damage had been done than she’d hoped.

“Your grandpapa is coming today.” She tousled his fine hair and bit back the urge to tell him of her plans. She smoothed the frown trying to form and smiled, her lips stretching over her teeth in a dry twist. Kalon presented his best to Jared, who loved his father and sought his attention. He couldn’t understand he’d be better raised elsewhere. Better off without a Geanus as an example, and one day Kalon would start to slip, let the not-so-ethical side of his nature show. It still amazed Jewel that Kalon had managed to keep all hints of his business dealings, ruthlessness and shady elements of his life from touching his son. Until Tazio. What would have happened if Jared had gone to Tazio’s room a few minutes earlier?

She shuddered. Her hand shook against Jared’s head, and she crushed him to her.