Hunted

by Theresa Beachman

  She disentangled herself from his embrace, hugging her body as she caught her breath. She had to do this on her own. Whatever they’d shared was over.

  Heath reached for her. “Isa…” But she was ready for him and retreated a staggering step. “Don’t.” She shook her head, her train of thought jumbled. “You need to give me some space.” She should’ve known better. Her assumptions had been her own fault. Hadn’t her experience with Karl taught her anything? Everyone was out for him or herself.

  His features crumpled, etched with pain, his hands limp at his side. He looked…wretched. Isa forced herself to turn before she weakened and changed her mind as she’d done so many times with Karl. But not this time. Her conscience rallied. Heath had deceived her. He deserved this.

  She staggered dog-tired, toward the rear of the hopper, hoping it would open when she palmed the door access panel, but it remained locked. Jammed. Worse, water was sweeping in from the junction seals.

  Heath sloshed to her side, his brow dented. “We should leave now.”

  27

  Freezing river lapped Heath’s knees in less than a minute, hustling him in swirling icy water that sucked the life from his limbs. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

  Neon green sparks arced from the exit and hit the water with a hiss when he hammered at the control panel but the door remained stuck. He clenched his teeth, kicked the door as he groped along the edges, searching for a gap to apply leverage. “That’d just be too fucking easy, wouldn’t it?” he muttered under his breath as he calculated his options.

  Escape or die. Spoiled for choice. Despite the desert conditions above ground, the water was lethally cold. If they didn’t drown soon, hypothermia would be the end of them.

  Isa’s teeth chattered. She clutched her sides, her hair plastered to her face, her cheekbones standing out in sharp relief. Guilt gnawed at him. She looked fragile yet there was strength in her gaze. He should have stopped things between them before it had come to this. He shouldn’t have made love to her, maybe then he would have been impervious to the pain of losing her. Because now? The thought of anything hurting her tore him up inside.

  He stabbed a commanding finger at the floor. “Do. Not. Move.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? Wait. Where are you—?”

  Water rushed his ears as he dived below swirling numbing water, aiming for the foot of the door. He wiggled his fingers into a small gap. It was wider here. He worked both hands into the space up to the first knuckle and hope bloomed for a second. Agony speared his injured arm as he pulled with all his strength till the metal cut deep into his finger pads, but the doors didn’t budge one inch.

  He surfaced, spitting water, blood streaming from his fingertips.

  Isa was where he left her, her teeth chattering, her features pinched with worry. Her face gleamed wet under the failing hopper lights. “W-w-well?”

  Heath shook his head, took another breath and ducked under the rising water. He yanked his knife from its sheath as he submerged and wedged it into the gap, right up to the hilt. He applied force, wary of snapping the blade. Murky clouds of blood obscured his vision but nothing happened. He leaned harder and one hand slipped and the blade stabbed his palm. Again. Again. The words were a mantra in his mind as he wiggled the blade and the door shifted. A little more and there was space for him to get his shoulder in the crack. With his feet braced on the wall, he shoved, creating an opening just over a foot wide. It was enough.

  He surfaced with a gasp, his head bumping the roof. His lungs seized, his heart rattling his ribs. There were only inches of airspace left. “Isa?”

  His gut contracted to a pinprick as he twisted in the water. Where the fuck was she?

  “Heath.” She came up next to him, her forehead striking the ceiling.

  He snagged her close, holding her shoulders. “I made a gap. We can swim out.”

  Deep shivers wracked her body as she nodded, her teeth clacking too loudly for a coherent conversation.

  “On my count. One, two, three…” He inhaled and ducked, his hand locked around hers. He tugged her down to the opening, fighting against the torrential influx of water and edged into the deluge beyond. Ferocious lake tore at his skin, pummeling the air from his lungs.

  Light glimmered, pale and mocking above his head, muddied by debris and silt, He braced his feet against the hopper, guiding Isa through the space. She swam free, her hair streaming in dark ribbons.

  His muscles were down to their last reserves of oxygen. Heath aimed for the surface, his pulse thundering as brightness called him upward. He exploded free of the water’s drag, gagging against wet leaves. Isa followed a second later, wheezing and sucking in the biting air.

  Heath snuck his arms under hers, supporting her as he trod water. He scanned the riverbanks for attackers but the trees hunkered low, undisturbed, robed in the roar of the nearby waterfall. They were undiscovered but the hopper’s tail fin stuck out the water at an awkward angle advertising their presence.

  He grabbed at a passing branch, slick and green with algae. His limbs were sluggish with cold and his thoughts disjointed. Around them, rock walls rose steep and lethal. “We’ll float down river, find somewhere easier to exit.” He looped her arms over the log. He had to get her out of here as soon as possible.

  They floated as a pair, their heads bobbing just above the waterline. Isa clung to the slippery wood, resting her cheek against the bark, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

  Heath kicked harder to speed up their progression, her blue-tinged lips spurring him on. “You’re doing great.”

  “Mmm.” Her teeth rattled as she hugged the branch with cold-pebbled arms.

  Slowly the hopper receded in the distance and the crash of the waterfall became more muted. The river slowed, its pull less frantic but still leaching the heat from his bones. Isa’s head dropped against his arm. She was mumbling nonsense. Her skin was mottled and chilled. She was too cold, losing consciousness but the rocky sides had given way to muddy overgrowth finally giving them an opportunity to escape the current. “Hang on, nearly there.”

  He pushed toward the bank, ignoring the silty slide under his boots as he staggered forward, his feet sinking. A few more paces and then—thank fuck—his feet found purchase and he powered up the squelching ooze in an exhausted stagger with Isa in his arms.

  Heath collapsed onto dry ground between gnarled tree roots, his lungs aching from the cold and wrapped limbs that felt like wet noodles around Isa. He covered her back with his abdomen and cradled her between his thighs as he willed his body heat into her quaking form. He counted the minutes as her shivers faded and the pain in his heart eased somewhat. Spent, Heath dropped the dead weight of his chin to the top of her head and closed his eyes, his thinking muddied by ringing in his ears.

  Something crashed. His eyes snapped open and his muddled thoughts cleared. He hauled Isa to her feet, flinging her arm across his shoulder.

  The hunt was still on.

  28

  Isa reeled, bumping against trees, her coordination shattered by fatigue. Had she ever not been walking? Now that the river and its frigid waters were long behind them, the heat of the giant sun speared through the fluttering leaves, making her clothes cling uncomfortably. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, despite her having recently drunk what felt like half a river.

  The sounds of their attackers had dwindled but fear still spilled through her blood and drove her deeper into the claustrophobic confines of the Exorizza forest. Isa wished she could climb. Shimmy up the rough trunks as she’d seen coconut farmers do in a long-forgotten documentary, up above the canopy where the humid air didn’t choke her lungs.

  Even more, she wanted to be alone, to make sense of the chaotic storm whirling through her mind. All she could think about was Heath—the increasing attraction she felt toward him tainted by the knowledge that he was the reason she was here.

  He hacked through the undergrowth in front of her, checking every few minutes that she
was still following. Pain lit his eyes when he looked over his shoulder. Nothing had ever felt as right as being in his arms last night, she belonged there, but now, the golden memory was fading fast, as if it had been a lifetime ago.

  Her eyes smarted from suppressed tears and there was a thickness lodged in her throat that wouldn’t dissolve no matter how often she swallowed. Blood thumped in her temples and her vision wavered in a matching tempo as she navigated between the narrow trunks. She focused on her trudging feet not wanting him to see how he was tearing her apart. She’d done that too many times before. Today would be different; she wouldn’t give him the emotional ammunition.

  Now Heath looked the other way. To his boots, to the leaves shifting above their heads, to a spot somewhere on the middle of her damn forehead. There was more. “Talk to me, Heath”

  He slashed at slender branches, studded with thorns. “The arrangement was take the cargo, no questions asked. It was a mistake.”

  He stopped and took her hand, and it drew on all her strength not to jerk free. But she wanted answers and maybe this way he would give them to her.

  “Isa, you must believe me. I didn’t know we were carrying cryo-pods. It’s illegal.”

  Isa raised an eyebrow. “Since when has the legality of what you do been an issue?”

  He huffed out a long breath. Ran his hand across the top of his head. “Even I have my limits. You have to understand. My mother is sick. The money from this trip was going to fix everything. Pay for all her care.”

  A muscle ticked in the tight confines of her jaw. “So who did pay for all of this?”

  His shoulders caved, and he released her hand. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Her words hung in the air between them, fierce and accusatory.

  “Let’s keep moving.” He dodged a branch and headed into the exposed rocky space ahead of them, beckoning for her to follow.

  She remained in the shadows, staring at his outstretched hand. “You’re asking me to trust you when you won’t be completely honest. You won’t tell me who arranged this mess?”

  His shoulders sagged and she fought the urge to comfort him. The vibrancy in his eyes that had drawn her from the first, it wavered, weakened by something he wouldn’t tell her. The knowledge he wouldn’t or couldn’t share. She couldn’t help him with that. That was something he’d have to work out for himself. Alone.

  Isa blanked him and headed away from the shelter of the trees. Blinding heat scorched the back of her neck.

  After everything, she’d still been gullible enough to believe that the universe had found her a trustworthy man; instead she found herself another liar. Even if he was upfront enough to admit it. She stuffed her hands tight in her pockets, her arms ramrod straight so she wouldn’t brush against him.

  “This way?” She jerked her head toward the peak of the hill.

  He checked his field pad and swiped the screen while she waited patiently, the silence between them growing heavier until she thought her knees would buckle. She almost cried out with relief when he said yes and pointed at a line of hills, the last barrier before reaching Ixoth, the capital city of this crappy planet. A seat on a star liner beckoned—and with it, home.

  Isa walked in the direction he’d indicated, lengthening her stride to increase her distance from him as quickly as possible.

  “Isa!”

  She turned and stared at him. Distress tilted the corners of his eyes but she stuck out her chin. She wouldn’t be duped again.

  “I never meant to hurt you…”

  Her chest ached. She believed him. But it didn’t change what had happened. What he’d done. Or what he was continuing to keep from her.

  She gave him a small nod and turned her back on him, released a trembling breath, and scrunched her eyes tight. God, what a fucking mess. How did she crash from one to another so easily? She’d been honest with him. Shared her body and heart.

  Gathering herself, she hiked up the scrubby slope. A gray tendril of smoke rose skyward.

  People.

  Isa hesitated. She’d been shot at enough for one lifetime.

  Heath was at her side. She hadn’t even heard him approach. “Wait.”

  “For what?”

  He flinched at her tone, but she didn’t care. “Follow me.” He dropped soundlessly to his belly and wormed forward like a snake to the rim of the small incline and peered over the edge.

  Isa ground her teeth. She was so done with this planet. With a long exhalation, she followed, blocking out the dirt rubbing against her bare thighs and grinding into the fabric of her being. She dug her nails into damp leaf mold and followed his gaze.

  They’d found a small hunter’s camp. Twelve neat tents arranged in a loose circle. Fires burned, and the wind carried the stink of charred meat and beer. Men busied around the camp, packing supplies.

  Heath thrust his palm against the base of her spine, pinning her in place. “Something’s not right.”

  “Damn well something’s not right.” She slapped his hands, knocking them clear. “Get your hands off me.”

  He shot her a stony glare. “There are no banners or flags,” he muttered. “And where are the animal cages? Only huts for humans…”

  She waited for him to finish his sentence but the words never came. Abruptly, Heath grabbed her belt loop, hauling her back from the lip of the incline. “We need to get out of here now.”

  Isa hustled to her feet, ripping his grip from her waist with a trembling hand. “And where exactly are we going?”

  Heath didn’t answer. His face was pale, his lips drawn.

  Something had spooked him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Heath.”

  Isa froze at the rich timbre of a man’s voice.

  Descending from a hilly crest, a man approached, his face thin with an elegant silver beard. Two severe-faced men flanked him, heavily armed and wearing dark blue military-style uniforms. With brusque efficiency the men relieved Heath of his knife, each restraining one of his arms.

  Heath’s eyes narrowed at the stranger. “Buke.”

  29

  A heavy boot held Heath face down in the sandy dirt. He fought to breathe as loose soil clogged his throat and lungs, forcing him to jerk sideways.

  Isa.

  His stomach was a hot mess, clenched at the possibility of Isa blurting out that she’d been in one of the cryo-pods. She was only a few feet away, her face blanched, arms wrapped around her waist. But Buke hadn’t touched her.

  His mind spun. How had Buke located them? On this enormous hellhole of a planet, how the fuck had Buke just walked up and found them?

  A tight grip pulled him to his feet but something unyielding and cold now restrained his hands behind his back. A punch exploded from nowhere against his nose. Heath coughed and spat blood, ducking his head in anticipation of another blow. it never came, instead, a rough fist grabbed his hair and yanked his face upward. Glacial blue eyes regarded him.

  “A merry dance you’ve led me.” Buke released him and stalked away, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his expensive-looking military pants. He spun on polished boots. Everything about Buke reeked money. Illegal money. It had never bothered Heath before, but now it enraged him.

  Buke walked in a predatory circle. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Maybe I should reconsider where I place my bets.” He tapped his chin, considering this. “But I have other work for you. I won’t waste our working relationship on a momentary flutter and a few hours of sport.”

  What the hell was that about? Heath risked a glance at Isa’s face. Anger flashed in her eyes and a mantle of fury had settled on the tight lines of her shoulders. He had to act fast.

  “The woman’s innocent. I… I took her hostage. She doesn’t belong here.”

  Buke inclined his head. “Do I appear stupid?”

  Cold dread dripped down Heath’s spine. Buke knew Isa was from the Annie Mae.

  “I screwed up. I�
�m sorry. I can fix this.” Heath didn’t blink, not wanting to break eye contact or to give Buke the opportunity to speak to Isa.

  “You crashed the Annie Mae. My beloved freighter.”

  “Your ship?” What was he talking about? “The Annie Mae was—”

  Buke was intent on Isa.

  Hell, no. Look at me, you weasel. Not her. “Buke, I said I can make it right.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I might have thought you were evading me.” Buke’s mouth thinned to a severe line as he turned his attention from Isa. “You wouldn’t be doing that now, would you?”

  Heath shook his head. His arms were throbbing and his fingers had gone numb. “You have me. Let’s talk.”

  Buke zeroed in on Heath once more. “You’ve cost me dearly. It will take the rest of your life to pay me back.” He shrugged. “Seems fair.”

  Heath dipped his head in agreement. “Yes. Whatever. Get your goons off me and we can talk.”

  “Let him go.”

  Isa. No, please shut up.

  Heath’s heart stuttered at the rapacious grin creeping over Buke’s face. He needed to distract him. “Where are Angie and Jack?”

  “Safe. Waiting for their next job.” Buke winked and turned back to Isa.

  Buke already had them? Heath surged forward, the thought of Buke touching Isa making his veins catch fire. But the restraint on his wrists contracted, opening his skin, and he stumbled to his knees, wet blood dripping on the ground.

  Breathing heavily, he staggered back to his feet, still intent on putting himself between Buke and Isa. But Buke blocked him with a neat sidestep and they locked eyes. Buke gave a slow-lidded blink, and then firm hands grabbed Heath from behind and dragged him out the way.

  “No!”

  Buke patted his forehead with a starched white handkerchief plucked from his breast pocket, his hand rising to his chest in a mock fear. “You should be more careful who you associate with, Miss…?”