Space Wrangler (31 page)

Turning his back on the doctor, he waited to hear the doors slide shut behind her.

Then he announced to his absent girlfriend, “I'm coming, beautiful, so hang in there. Kiss up to that fucking TJ like you always do. Pretend you still love him. Once I'm out, we'll roast his balls and feed 'em to the bogs. Then it'll just be you and me, and you'll never regret it. I promise you that.”

After six hours in the ACTs, Alexia and Rick were back in the control room, eating a light dinner and drinking copious liquids in preparation for their next stint in the capsules. They had agreed to this schedule—six hours in, three hours out, again and again until the platform was close enough for Sensie to scan it.

It would take two full days, and Alexia couldn't wait.

She knew Rick felt differently. He was hoping a miracle would occur, and Zeke's crew—or better still, Zeke himself—would contact them, saying the sinkhole had reopened and they were ready to whisk Alexia back to Earth.

That was Rick's dream, but
she
hungered for something different. They would dock at the platform, storm the place, and free Zeke and Gabby. Then they'd all head for Sector Fourteen to rendezvous with Zeke's crew.

She only hoped there were hundreds of them!

“Captain?” Sensie asked brightly. “Shall I show you my schematics while you eat?”

“Yeah, and pull up an example of a brain map too.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alexia watched in annoyance as four oversized soft screens appeared in midair before Rick's intent gaze.

“You're doing this now? Shouldn't we make a rescue plan?”

Rick shrugged. “With any luck, the sinkhole will open and you'll go through. Then Sensie and me will do what we do best. What I'm
trained
to do.”

“Unless David decides to execute his prisoners when he hears I'm back on Earth.”

Rick shrugged again. “TJ won't let him hurt Gabby. And David's too smart to kill Zeke. Those smugglers are ex-military. Brawlers. No moral code, but loyal as hell. As long as Zeke's alive, they'll hang back. But if their leader is executed, they'll swarm the place. So don't worry about Angelus.”

“You're so full of it,” she muttered.

He laughed. “You're hot for a battle, but I predict the sinkhole opens in the next twenty-four hours. Sea-Mont needs supplies from Earth. Earth needs bio-metal. The pressure's on, and David will cave. Trust me.”

She could see his attention was divided between her and the schematics. And the schematics were winning.

As if to confirm it, Rick said, “You need to conserve your strength. Eat up. Then take a nice, long nap.”

“Or watch a video,” Sensie suggested.

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I'm not a child. I can keep up with this brain mapping stuff, thank you very much.”

“Of course you can,” Sensie replied, still condescending. “I just thought you'd enjoy watching the captain's heroic struggle against the eighteen-foot thug.”

She vaguely remembered him describing that to her, characterizing it as his excuse for returning to Destry ahead of schedule, but sounding so proud, calling it Goliath. She had been too woozy at the time to be impressed, but now admitted it sounded exciting.

“Okay, set me up in Rick's quarters.”

“Take your food,” he reminded her.

His tone said it all. He couldn't wait to get rid of her so he and his sentient could talk science. She didn't really mind, as long as that was all they discussed.

“Don't make any decisions without me,” she warned.

“Fair enough.”

She smiled, kissed his jaw, then took her meal to his bunk to watch the show.

Even through his flight suit, her lover's muscles visibly rippled and bulged as he struggled against the superior size and bulk of the behemoth. The beast. A freaking mountain of a robot.

Alexia couldn't get enough of it. Not just because her hero flexed and maneuvered and basically staged an amazing show, but because he looked so happy doing it.

She had seen that expression before. On the trip to the Titans, when he had faced a “twelve-footer” and an “eight-footer” at the same time.

Exuberant. Joyful. As though a great weight had lifted for a few minutes. Or in the case of the behemoth, a full hour.

After the video, Sensie provided a bonus feature: Rick lassoing bio-metal fragments in the asteroid ring. He chased them, roped them, then hauled them in, all the while dodging other hunks of metal and debris and, in some cases, sizeable planetoids. Once again, he was in his glory, whooping with glee, free of the pain his first thirty-two years of life had inflicted on him.

It all made so much sense. He had come here instinctively. To a world without humans. A world filled with lifeless chunks of metal, uncharted stars, and endless adventure. His only companion? A sentient who could never, ever die. His occasional bedmates? Bio-girls. Anonymous by design, unfettered by choice. He preferred them, not because the sex was better—or at least, not necessarily—but because it was simpler.

Alone but not lonely.

Boom
.

And because Sensie was Alexia's double in so many ways, she had known instinctively she needed this reminder, so she would never crowd this guy. Never ask more than he could give. If they could find a way to meet up occasionally, that would be perfect. But she could willingly fade away if that was what he needed. It seemed trite to say she loved him enough to let him go, but it was true.

And wasn't it mutual? Even if he wanted to hang out together, he knew she had to find Trent. And Trent wasn't in Sector Fourteen.

“Hey,” Rick asked from the doorway. “You doing okay?”

She nodded. “It reminds me of my childhood, actually.”

He walked to the bunk and sat close to her. “How so?”

“Dad and Trent were always talking science. Just like you and Sensie are doing. With giant screens floating everywhere, filled with equations and diagrams. And I'd be in the next room reading a romantic adventure novel or watching a dance video.” She stroked his handsome face. “The difference is, Dad never checked on me. It was like he forgot I existed. And Trent tried to remember, but the data was too mesmerizing. But
you
…” She looped her arms around his neck. “You actually want to be here. With me. And Sensie's
always
here, even when she's in the other room. It's so amazing, Rick. I'll never forget it.”

“There's no place I'd rather be,” he assured her.

“Did you figure out the brain mapping?”

“It's gonna take some time. But your brother's a miracle worker for sure. I can't wait to meet him.”

“You're so sure he's alive?” she murmured.

“I thought we settled that.” He pretended to scowl. “Are we gonna fool around or not? Because otherwise, I'm back to the brain maps.”

She pulled him down alongside her, then shivered with anticipation. “You're the captain.”

“Damned right,” he said, a mischievous grin shining through the bluster. “So just lie back and let me be in charge for once.”

“Gabrielle? Are you feeling up to a visitor?”

Gabby roused herself from a woozy, sedative-induced fog and replied cautiously to Dr. Meg Bodin, “A visitor? Who is it?”

“Mr. Seaton.”

“Oh, thank God.” She struggled to sit up despite the restraints on her wrists and ankles. “I need to brush my hair first. Can't you unhook these?”

“They're for your own protection. You've been incoherent on and off since the procedure. And your hair looks fine.” Arching an eyebrow, the doctor said, “He's a very busy man. You don't want to keep him waiting.”

“Right, right.” She exhaled sharply, knowing she would now get some real answers. She hadn't spoken with anyone but Meg in days. Ever since they pumped her stomach. She vaguely remembered being roused in her apartment by that animal Belker, but she'd been too drugged to react, thanks to the extra pill she had slipped into her mouth when Alexia wasn't looking, bringing the total dose to a comfortable two-and-one-half times the prescribed amount.

She still worried about her appearance, but was confident TJ would free one or both of her hands as soon as Meg left the room. Then she could make some repairs while they planned what to do next.

The doctor walked to the door and said, “Mr. Seaton? Ms. Rousseau will see you now.”

Gabby's heart pounded the way it always did when TJ came near. So much had changed, and she knew she should be smarter, tougher, but she loved him so much, she just couldn't resist.

Then a tall, balding man with narrow, unforgiving eyes appeared in the doorway and she gasped out loud. “Oh! I thought…”

“You thought my son had come to call?” David's grin was as caustic as his tone. “You just can't help yourself, can you?”

Gabby sighed, remembering the drill with this particular monster. The best response was no response. She had given him plenty of openings in the past and each time he had mocked and skewered her.

Not this time.

So she said nothing. Nor did she shy away from his piercing gaze.

“How are you feeling?” he asked finally.

“I'm fully recovered, sir, and ready to get back to my post.”

He moved closer to the bed, his attitude softening, but only slightly. “My son promised me you were loyal, and he was right. I am sincerely sorry that Montoya bitch almost killed you. Luckily, my enforcers got there in time.”

Gabby knew she'd regret it, but just had to say, “I don't think she wanted to kill me, sir. Just knock me out for a few minutes. She had cold feet. Lots of brides—”

“Save it for someone who believes in fairy tales,” he growled. “She tried to kill you. Then she took off with the smugglers, ready to make a fool out of my son—and me—by describing how she jilted him. Luckily, the sinkhole swallowed her up. She's out of my hair for good, and the smugglers who helped her are either dead or in prison, awaiting execution.”

That was the official story, but Gabby clung to the belief that the Seatons were lying. Zeke couldn't be dead. He was simply too accomplished a criminal for that. If he had actually managed to get Alexia to the sinkhole, getting away would have been child's play.

But if the
Ace of Hearts
had been intercepted before it could reach the sinkhole…

That was the fear. If David's forces had fired on Zeke's ship, then all was lost.

“The news bulletin said Alexia actually went through with the marriage, then ran off
after
that. But it's not true, is it?”

David hesitated, then admitted, “There are only five people in the universe who know the real truth. That they were never married. We're trusting you to take it to your grave.”

“I'd do anything for TJ,” she murmured. “How's he doing?”

“The grieving widower?” David chuckled. “He feels bad for a while. Then he bangs a couple of bio-girls and everything's fine.”

“I'd like to see him. Is that possible?”

“It wouldn't look right. His bride just died a horrible death, and you're his ex. An ex who's ten times more gorgeous than the dead wife. But eventually, you can see him. In fact…” David exhaled loudly, then shocked her by saying, “I will encourage him to marry you.”

“
What
?”

“You've been loyal. And we need to keep tabs on you. So all in all, it's practical.” His smile became a sneer. “You'll be a rich woman, since my son just inherited the Montoya half of the company. Play your cards right, give me a halfway intelligent grandson, and it'll all be his someday. On the other hand…” He leaned closer, his breath hot on her cheek. “If you cross me, I'll let Belker and his buddies rip you to shreds.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and because of her restraints, she couldn't wipe it away. All she could do was whisper, “TJ would never let that happen.”

“You sound like the Montoya bitch.”

“Pardon?”

He winced, apparently remembering Gabby's limited role in all this from the Seatons' point of view. TJ would have explained to David that Alexia pretended to go along with the wedding plans and enlisted Gabby as a maid of honor, then drugged her when her back was turned. To them, Gabby was as much a victim of Alexia's deceit as they themselves.

They had no idea that Alexia had confided the real truth—the threats and coercion—to Gabby, or that Gabby had been a willing conspirator in the escape plan to the point of enlisting the aid of her clandestine lover. It was funny, actually. Everyone thought they knew the truth, but each only saw it through an incomplete lens.

Including Gabby, who actually didn't know the fate of Alexia
or
Zeke.

Any other man would have tried to explain his misstatement about Belker and Alexia, but David didn't bother. And she knew why. He thought her so weak, such a pushover for TJ, he didn't care if she learned the whole truth. He could control her by using her love for his son, and if that didn't work, he could murder her and get away with it. Did he have a preference? Probably not.

“You don't seem very excited,” he goaded her. “I'm offering you my son's hand in marriage. Isn't that your heart's desire?”

It had always been exactly that, right from the first moment she'd met the brash, well-built, golden-haired businessman. He had witnessed a bully harassing her in a bar and had swooped in, charming and rescuing her in one powerful, romantic gesture. She had worshipped at his feet, so madly in love it frightened her. Then she had followed him through the sinkhole, made love with him in blissful submission, and even when he broke it off, had stayed around, praying he'd finally see how perfect they were for each other.

Even now, to her shame, she wanted to marry the guy. Start fresh. Forgive and forget. None of this was TJ's fault. Not in the ways that counted. It was David, the monster who had tortured him from the day he was born, who had set all this in motion. At heart, TJ was noble and kind and capable of infinite love. The monster had twisted him, and true love could twist him back.