by R. M. Olson
She stiffened abruptly, pushing away from him and stumbling backwards a few steps, and they stood there for a moment, panting, staring at each other. Her eyes were wide and panicked.
“Jez,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “I’m—I’m sorry. I—”
She shook her head. “No.” She swallowed hard. “No, it’s—it wasn’t you. I—” She broke off. Her breath was still coming too quickly, and her face was bloodless. She glanced around, and almost fell into the hard chair beside her, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.
He closed his eyes and took a long breath, trying to slow his racing heart. “Jez,” he said at last, and his voice was so thick with longing he could hardly get the words out. “Jez. I—I can’t do this anymore, OK? I can’t. I—I need you, Jez. I can’t—” He broke off, running a hand helplessly through his hair.
Jez was still watching him, but there was something in her face, something frightened and vulnerable and hurt.
“Lev,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Lev, I—look, I thought—I mean, you said—”
“I know what I said,” he was talking through his teeth. He could hardly focus on the words he was saying, because all he could focus on right now was the fact that she was here, sitting just across from him, and he hadn’t realized until now how much he needed her, he couldn’t pinpoint the moment when his entire self had begun to revolve around her like a damn planet around a sun, but it had and he couldn’t seem to stop it. “I—when Evka tried to kill you, it terrified me. It scared me more than anything has ever scared me before. I—I couldn’t handle the thought of losing you, Jez. I couldn’t—” For a moment, the familiar panic welled up in his chest, choking off his words. He took a deep breath. “I—I thought maybe that would protect you. That you not being with me would protect you. But—” He stopped, shaking his head helplessly. “I can’t protect you, Jez. I’ve never been able to. Because you’re you, and you do what you want to do, and I don’t have any right to tell you not to. And you’re still getting hurt, look at you, and—Jez, I can’t do this anymore.” His voice choked, and he stopped speaking for a moment, swallowing hard.
She was still watching him, something unbearably sad in her eyes.
“Yeah,” she said at last, her voice soft. “I—figured maybe it was something like that. And you’re right, it’s a pretty stupid reason. But—” She swallowed hard, seeming to brace herself. “But look, Lev. When you said that, I didn’t argue with you, because—because—” she closed her eyes for a moment.
“Because,” she said softly, “I—I love you, Lev. I guess I love you. And the thing is—I can’t do relationships. I’m crap at them, and there’s no way I don’t screw them up. Like this, right now. I’ve already screwed crap up, I—I kissed you, after I said—I said I wasn’t going to, and—” she gestured helplessly. “I can’t do that to you. I am who I am, and I get scared and run away, and I’d hurt you, and I can’t. I just—I can’t.” There were tears forming in her eyes. She brushed them away quickly. “It’s just who I am. I can’t change it, I don’t know how to change it. And if I tried, if I tried to make it work, I’d panic. And maybe I could make myself stay, I don’t know, but it’d be like trying to hold my head underwater, and I couldn’t breathe, and maybe I’d die. But I’d have to either do that or hurt you, and maybe I’d die from that, too.” She swallowed hard, turning away from him.
There was something sick in his stomach. He took a step towards her, knelt so he was looking her in the eye, put a hand on her arm. “Jez,” he said, and he could hear the roughness in his tone. “Listen to me, Jez. I know who you are, and I’d never ask you to do something that would hurt you, and I’d never ask you to change, for me or for anyone else. I understand, you hate being trapped. But Jez—” he swallowed back the pleading in his voice. “The thing is, Jez, I don’t care. I honestly don’t care. I’d take you for however long you’d want to stay, if that’s a year or a month or a day or one damn night, I don’t even care. I’ll take it. I’d give up every single one of my tomorrows, happily, for one damn night with you.”
There was a long silence. He could feel her body trembling under his hand, and his hand was trembling too.
And at last she looked up, and gave him a small, sad smile. “Maybe you don’t care,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “But here’s the thing, genius. I do. I’m not going to let you screw up your life. I’m not going to screw up your life, OK?”
She pushed herself up and stood, and looking at her, at the longing in her posture, the set of her body, leaned in slightly towards him, he knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and hell, he’d known that since he’d bloody well told her that they needed some space, and—
She reached out and rested her hand on his chest, and his whole body sparked at her touch, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if she was going to grab his shirt and pull him in towards her, or shove him away.
But at last, she let her fingers slide down his chest and drop to her side, and she turned away. “I’m sorry, genius,” she whispered. And then she slipped into her own room and closed the door behind her.
He stared blankly at her closed door for a long time, and the adrenalin pumping through him made his muscles shaky.
Finally, he turned, pulling open the door, and stepped blindly out into the corridor. He didn’t know where he was going, and to be honest, he didn’t really care, he just needed to move, before he lost his mind.
He walked the corridors of the ship for a long time.
His com buzzed a couple times, but he ignored it. If they needed him badly enough, they could tap something out in pilot’s code.
Finally, when he’d walked for long enough that he thought maybe, somehow, he could manage to be in the same room as someone else again, he made his slow way back to their suite.
When he stepped inside, Tae and Ivan looked up from the table, and Tae frowned in concern at the look on his face.
“Lev?” he asked. “What’s the matter? Ivan and I have been trying to call you, we were going to—”
Lev managed a small smile. “Sorry, Tae,” he said. “I have the layout to the gambling hall. I can send it through to your com. But—” He gave a small shrug. “I don’t think I’ll be much help tonight. Long day.”
Tae studied him, still frowning, but at last he nodded. “That’s fine. I think you already gave us the schedule of the games with the ones marked off that we decided would be the best to rig. If you send through the schematics, Ivan and I can try to put it together.”
“Thanks, Tae,” he said, with a small, wry smile. “I appreciate it. I’m sorry for dropping it on you like this.”
“It’s fine,” said Tae, still watching him, concern in his face. “It’s not a big deal. Listen, Lev, are you sure—”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I think I just need some sleep.”
Tae nodded, expression still cut with concern. “Alright. Get some sleep then.”
Lev managed one last smile, and crossed over to his room.
When he’d closed the door behind it, he leaned against it, letting the smile fade from his face.
No, there were still things to do. He pulled up his com, scrolled through to where he’d made his notes and done a quick diagram scan of the gambling room, and tapped the button to send them over to Tae’s and Ivan’s coms.
Then he let himself sink back against the door.
This was ridiculous. Nothing had bloody well changed since that morning, it was exactly the same as it had always been, and anyways, Jez had the right to decide whether or not she wanted to be in a relationship.
He was being ridiculously stupid.
Something on the top of the dresser caught his eye. He frowned, and crossed over to it.
There was a bottle of sump, and underneath it, a note, scrawled in messy, unmistakable handwriting.
“Hey, genius,” it read. “Sorry. Thought you might want this.”
He stared at the note for a long time.
Then he crumpled it in his fist and threw it across the room. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily, then he snatched the bottle off the dresser and crossed over to his bed.
He dropped down onto his cot and leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.
Maybe Jez was damn well right, for once.
It had been a long plaguing time since he’d last gotten drunk. But tonight sounded like a good time to remedy that.
He pulled the cap off the bottle and put it to his lips, tipping his head back, and tried not to think about the look on Jez’s face when she’d told him she loved him, and then turned away.
“Lev.”
He looked up, squinting against the light, into Ysbel’s face.
He knew he looked awful, but probably not quite as awful as he felt. At least, he hoped not. On the bright side, the pounding headache and the uneasy nausea lurching in his stomach made it at least easier not to think about Jez. When he could hardly form a coherent thought, it was slightly more difficult to picture her face, the sick finality in it, remember how she felt in his arms, the way his whole body ached with needing her, the warmth of her lips on his, the electricity jolting though his body wherever she touched him … He dropped his head into his hands.
Apparently even a hangover wasn’t enough.
“Lev,” said Ysbel again, and he raised his head.
“Yes, Ysbel?” He still, somehow, managed to keep his voice calm.
She was staring at him, her expression flat and forbidding. “What the hell,” she leaned into the emphasis on the word, “is wrong with you?”
He shook his head, and bit back a wince. “I’m sorry.”
She was still watching him. “Listen,” she said at last. “I get it. You want to sleep with Jez, and Jez wants to sleep with you, and for some stupid reason you’ve both decided that you’re not going to do that, and so she’s sulking in her room and you’re hungover. I get it.” She narrowed her eyes. “But we’re trying to save the lives of every member of this crew and about three hundred people besides right now, and prevent a coup by the mafia of the entire Svodrani system, and now would be a very good time to stop acting like a complete damn idiot. Do you understand me?”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fighting back the nausea. At last he blew out a steadying breath.
She was right, honestly. He needed to pull himself together, because right now they had fewer than twelve standard hours before Grigory’s symposium officially kicked off.
“Yes, Ysbel,” he said, opening his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She was still giving him that flat look. “I hope you are. And I hope your head hurts badly enough that you won’t try that again for a very long time.”
“I’m—not sure if it’s possible for it to hurt badly enough,” he murmured wryly.
She frowned slightly, still studying him. At last she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a little more gentle. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head gently, then winced at the movement. “I’m—not sure I do.”
She watched him for a moment more, one eyebrow raised. At last she nodded. “Alright. Well then, if you don’t want to talk about it, let’s talk about how we’re going to keep Jez and my wife and my children from being shot tonight, yes?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“AUNTY JEZ?”
Jez glanced over to where Olya crouched.
They were sitting at a table in the far corner, hidden from view by a staircase and a large artificial vine, which, to be honest, vines still gave Jez the creeps after that damn incident with Vitali, but what the hell. She figured it was about time for one of them to be useful.
Tanya sat across from her, face tense, and Olya was crouched just under the table, out of view of any passing server.
“Alright,” said Lev’s voice in her earpiece. She stiffened unconsciously, then forced herself to relax.
She could deal with all the crap about Lev and what had happened last night later.
Or maybe not. Maybe she’d die or something first, if she was lucky, maybe someone would shoot her or maybe they’d calculate wrong and she’d get blown up. Honestly, she wasn’t sure which scared her more.
No, she knew damn well which scared her more, and it wasn’t getting shot.
She managed a grin, the sick feeling in her stomach mingling with the tight knot of adrenalin to make it almost impossible for her to sit still.
“From where you’re sitting, the games we need to rig are the ones at the table on the far right side of where you’re facing, the large table in the centre, and the table three tables to the left of you, up the stairs.”
“On it,” she whispered. “Who needs to win?”
“On the right table, the short woman in the deep blue jacket.”
She glanced over and gave a short nod. “Got it.”
“The centre table, the man with long hair and pale skin.”
“Got it.”
“The table to your left, it’s the woman in the red, with short black hair.”
“Got it.” She glanced down at Olya. “You hear that, Olya?”
“Yes, Aunty Jez,” said Olya, with a long-suffering sigh.
“Be polite please, Olya,” Tanya murmured.
“OK. So here’s what we’re going to do.” Jez pulled out a bag of tokens that Tanya had stolen from the casino the evening before, and dropped them below the table top. “Tae’s hacking into their vid and audio feed, so he can keep an eye on the games. And now,” she grinned down at Olya, “we’re going to work on those gambling skills I taught you this morning.”
Olya gave her a superior look. “I’m pretty damn good at gambling, Aunty Jez.”
Tanya glared at Jez, then at her daughter. “Olya,” she whispered, “Where did you—”
Jez raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Tanya, not like she’s wrong.”
Tanya glowered, and Jez grinned.
“Alright,” she said quietly, shaking the tokens out of her bag. “And you need to pay attention, Olya, because this is important—this isn’t the best way to cheat. There’s way better ways. But this is the easiest one, and the mafia’s already expecting the games to be rigged, so we should be just fine to go ahead. So.” She flipped quickly through the tokens, pulled out a handful, and poured them into Olya’s hands. “Those ones with the X mark in the top left corner, those are the big-credit tokens.”
“I know, Aunty,” said Olya wearily. “You told me that this morning.”
“Just making sure. Now, you’re gong to want to make sure that,” she glanced up at the table, “the lady in the blue jacket gets about—” she squinted one eye, calculating.
A little harder to cheat, honestly, if you couldn’t see the tokens, and the person you were helping to cheat didn’t realize they were supposed to be cheating.
“About four of them into her draw pile, alright? And then you want to take her partner’s draw-pile, and add two of them there. The other set of partners playing against them, you want to slip them each one of these.” She held up a token with a circle stamped into the top corner. “Got it?”
Olya glanced at the tokens in her hand, and then up at Jez. “So,” she said, “You want to give her enough points to win, and her partner enough points to play off her, and then you want to use one of these to handicap the people who aren’t on her team because when they see the circle, they’ll play that instead of however many squares they have, because it’s worth more points. But the X will trump them if she has at least two. Right?”
Jez raised her eyebrows, and glanced up at Tanya. “I’m impressed. Kid’s a natural.”
Tanya was still giving her that look that usually meant she was imagining creative ways to kill her.
“You got it, kid,” she said in a low voice, turning back to Olya. “But here’s the thing—”
“You need me to slip the other side’s X-tokens out, I know,” said Olya, rolling her eyes. “I’m actually pretty smar
t, Aunty.”
“Olya,” warned Tanya, almost automatically.
“Yep,” said Jez, grinning. “Figure you are. Off you go then.”
Olya looked up at her, and for a moment her excitement flickered through the bored look she’d affected up to this point. Jez gave her a wink, and Olya slipped away.
“Your turn now, Tanya,” said Jez, still grinning. “They’re playing three blind beggars at the centre table, so you’re going to want these.” She slipped a handful of tokens into Tanya’s hand, and, after a brief explanation, Tanya slipped off as well.
Jez leaned back, surveying the scene with satisfaction through the leafy curtain of the vine. She tapped her com. “Got a visual yet, Tae?” she whispered.
“Give me a sec.” Tae’s voice was strained, but then hell, Tae’s voice was always strained. Kid worried way too much.
“Got it,” he whispered at last. “Pushing it through to your com.”
She tapped her com, bringing up her holoscreen, and a moment later, three separate feeds appeared. She expanded the screen slightly, grinning.
Olya was almost impossible to spot, which was honestly impressive—Jez was pretty damn sure they didn’t usually let kids in these places.
Although, after the way Olya had picked up on the theory of cheating at tokens, maybe that was just for self-preservation.
But somehow the kid managed to look both innocent and slightly lost as she made her unerring way towards the indicated table. She disappeared behind it, and Jez expanded the feed with two fingers.
She grinned at the shock, hastily disguised, on the woman’s face, and then at the brief flicker of satisfaction on the face of her opponent as he turned over a token from his pile.
He’d have found the circle.
For an enjoyable few minutes, she watched the game play out exactly as she’d planned it, and then Olya tapped her on the elbow. She jumped, and swore.
“Damn it, kid, I thought I told you to stop sneaking up on me.”
Olya raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was the whole reason we brought me here.”
