They worked their bodies together in frenzied madness, fighting the hopelessness that they could never be together. Anger drove him to take her, and anger drove her to accept him. Unable to take her eyes off the rippling power in his arms as he held her down, pinning her to the chair with his strength as he ruthlessly plowed his body into hers, Jynx finally looked up and caught his gaze.
Covered in sweat, he gnashed his teeth as he held her down, took her like a brute with his body as his eyes blazed to a laser blue. Fearsome yet fragile, Foster trusted her, hated her, loved her, needed her. He closed his eyes suddenly, his face twisting as he fought back a now powerful, inevitable climax.
Rubbing his thumb forcefully across her clit, he demanded with a low, deep bass, “Come for me, Jynx. Let me feel you.”
Jynx came in a tumbling rush, tightening around him, but he didn’t stop. He rubbed her till she climaxed again. Screaming, Jynx shoved her body off his chair, forced his body to the floor and impaled herself to him with one final thrust. Against his will, he came, matching her bellowing scream of release.
Trembling, exhausted, he cradled her carefully to the floor and just lay side by side with her, recovering in the lavender rain.
When Jynx tried to make herself more comfortable with her arms bound behind her back, he stood, pulled her up, then lifted her to his shoulder. He carted her to her cell.
Once he locked her in, he uncuffed her. In a cold voice, looking directly into her eyes, he said, “I take you to Roberts tomorrow.” He turned and walked away without a backward glance.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Are you ready?”
Jynx nodded. She stood dressed in her clinging lilac dress, her now cleaned sandals and, Foster realized with dismay, without her lace panties. They were still stuffed in the pocket of his jeans that he’d tossed aside in the studio last night. Back on the Damn You waiting for his return. Alone. At least she had her lacy white bra on. What a consolation that must be to her.
“I have to cuff you.”
Jynx nodded and put her hands behind her back.
“No. I’ll do it in the front.” Last night, he’d forced himself to look at her with cutting eyes as he unbound her and put her back in her cage. Today, he couldn’t meet her terrified gaze. “It will be more comfortable, in front.” Another modest consolation. Making her more comfortable as he took her to a public execution. Horror rumbled ever closer to his shuttle.
Lifting her hands to the front, Foster winced when he saw how badly her arms trembled. Faint rings of purple seemed to glare at him, like neon, from her tender wrists. Last night came back with a guilty, pleasurable rush. He cuffed Jynx carefully. “Okay? Not too tight?”
She nodded. Foster couldn’t meet her gaze. He just couldn’t. “I’ll take that stuff to Michael. He may not give a rat’s about the whole of humanity, but he’ll look after his own.”
“Thank you.” Her voice warbled.
He could practically hear her heart thudding in her chest as he stood beside her on his shuttle. Caught up in the worry over her came a sudden worry over her child. “Take a deep breath, Jynx. Very slow.”
She did and relaxed a skosh.
“We’re on planet Juno. Port Belle.”
“Yes.”
Faint rumblings could be heard just beyond the safe metal walls of the Damn You shuttle. Foster called the little craft the Darn You but didn’t think Jynx would appreciate the humor in that. At the moment, he could barely use it to distract himself from the inevitable showdown. Moments away now. So terribly close. Taking a deep breath himself, he forced himself to relax.
“I’m so afraid, Foster.” She swallowed with a dry click. “I don’t want to die.”
Ignoring a need to reassure her that he would do everything he could, he finally met her gaze. Her eyes were lovely and violet and so wide, framed by shining links of beautiful honey-blonde hair. Never in his life had he looked upon a woman so impossibly beautiful. So utterly doomed. In her eyes, he saw she knew the truth, accepted it, and even forgave him for his part in it. She loved him like no other woman could. Drawing strength from her, he stood tall and readied himself for what would come.
The rumbling grew ever louder beyond the shuttle walls.
Shocking him profoundly, she squared her shoulders, tossed back her short-hacked hair and met his gaze with resolve. “I’m ready.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” She answered automatically. Just as she always had when he demanded that truth from her. “But you cannot save me.” It came out broken and lost, tears spilled over the edges of her eyes, tracking slowly down her face.
It sounded as if a million people stood beyond this space clamoring for her blood. The longer they lingered in the shuttle, the louder, more booming, the angry mob became.
“No matter what I say, no matter how vulgar and nasty I seem or what I do, you don’t say a word. Don’t react. Just look straight ahead with your head held high. Got it? Be as indifferent to everything as you can.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me. No matter what I say or do. Got it?”
She stiffened her spine, nodded and said, “Got it.” Lifting her chin, she added, “Jynx Brennan, space doctor.”
Foster wiped her tears away. “You’re beautiful.”
Smiling wanly, Jynx asked, “What waits for me beyond this door, Mr. Nash?” Nodding to the closed shuttle-bay ramp, she again took a deep breath and stood straight.
He suddenly wanted to take her again, rough, hard and fast, right up against the wall. In the same moment, just as intensely, he wanted to grab her and spirit her away. Either way, if he tarried to have Jynx or if he tried to leave, Roberts would have the Darn You blown to dust. No questions asked.
Keeping resolutely to his plan, he admired her spirit as he said, “Because of the media attention, Roberts is demanding the exchange take place on the steps of the courthouse. Wants it all very public and extremely tense. Makes good marketing sense, right? You know the drill.”
Jynx nodded.
“Right now my shuttle is sitting on the lawn of the Port Belle courthouse. IWOG officers will form a perimeter, a pathway, between my shuttle and the courthouse steps, holding back a swelling mob. We’re going to step out and walk that gauntlet. There will be cameras everywhere. Lots of people. Most of them angry and yelling. Don’t let it bother you. None of them will have weapons. Ignore them. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Walk proud.”
“You’ll be beside me?” she asked.
“Yes.” Foster lowered his face. “Right beside you. I’ll be the only one with weapons. Keep that in mind as we walk. This is going to be a long walk, Jynx. From my shuttle to the steps is going to be a good three to five minute walk. Through a mob barely held in check. Don’t hurry. Take your time. Walk with your head high and measured steps. Look straight ahead no matter what. Got it?”
“Yes.”
Just having some idea of what to expect helped Jynx to take deeper breaths as she stood straighter and more resolved. The clamoring cacophony beyond the walls served only to galvanize her further.
“You walk past those angry idiots like the proud and dignified IWOG lady you are.”
She flashed him an impish grin. “Proud and dignified.”
“Yes.” Foster nodded, returning her grin.
“Sans panties.” Jynx grinned wider, and a burst of laughter slipped out. She cupped her bound hands to her face.
“Yes.” Foster too stifled a laugh.
“I find that entirely apropos.” Jynx lowered her bound hands.
“So do I.”
The calm moment was interrupted by a beep from his equipment belt. Plucking up the palm unit, Foster activated it.
“Confirm,” a mechanical voice said.
“Foster Nash. Jynx Brennan in custody. Confirm contract delivery status.”
“Confirm escort to courthouse.”
Foster tapped a different unit. “Error. Locate sixteen unauthorized w
eapons.”
A long pause. They knew his scanners were way better than theirs. “Coordinates?”
Foster reeled them off. As he watched, each of the red blips were escorted well out of his scanner range. Only one light, red and steady, pulsed on the screen. Roberts. Armed and waiting.
“Contract confirmed?” the voice asked.
“Confirmed. Prisoner identification sending.” Foster pointed the unit at Jynx, then pressed her thumb to the panel. At her curious glance, he shook his head back and forth. Universal for don’t say a thing. Jynx stood impassive and let him press her hand to the unit.
“Identity confirmed.”
Foster looked to her eyes. Forgiveness. So deep he almost lost his resolve.
“Exit when ready.”
Foster cut all connections. “Are you ready?”
“Roberts will be armed?”
“Yes. And waiting on the steps. At the top.” He couldn’t tell her more than that. She’d have to believe in him so completely that if they survived this, they could survive anything.
She bit her lips, clearly bursting to ask him what he was going to do, but she didn’t. He wouldn’t have told her anyway. It was bad enough for him to carry the burden of a plan that could go horribly wrong in a million ways, but he had no choice.
“Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Jynx peered up at him. “No matter what happens, I love you, and I want you to know that I forgive you.”
He’d read that in her eyes only moments ago. “Jynx—”
Hushing him with a shake of her head, she leaned close. “Kiss me good-bye.”
He angled her head up and pressed his mouth to hers. He didn’t know if she could tell what words he mouthed against her trembling lips.
She held him still as she slowly mouthed the words, I love you, too.
Wrapping her in his arms, breathing deeply of her, burying his face in the folds of her lovely hair, Foster bit his lip not to cry. A soul-crushing fear welled up from deep inside that he would never hold Jynx again.
Twilight filled the air with gathering shadows as flash pulses and steady lights tore holes in the settling dark. Shouted vulgarities sickened Jynx, but she did as Foster said. She kept her head high and walked with calm steps beside him.
He kept his purposeful strides slow to match her shorter legs. Every inch, he personified a dangerous Fringe ruffian. All in one breath hated and admired by everyone who surrounded them now, the hard-core IWOG consumers who were spoon fed what to think. IWOG officers who held the crowds at bay were just as enchanted as those consumers they held back. They hated her but alternately feared and admired him. Foster played his part to a tee. Never-Fail Nash. Ruthless, brutal, vicious.
Tight obsidian motton stretched across the expanse of his chest, accentuating every straining, rippling muscle. Battered jeans made a second skin along his hips, blatantly cupping the heavy bulge of his semi-erect cock. Thick, black, wide and slung low, his weapon-riddled belt drew attention to the raw sexuality of his body. He had to flip his long sandy blond hair out of his eyes to meet the cameras with a grin. He hadn’t shaved for two days, and his beard made him look scruffy. When he flipped his hair back and grinned, he looked like a proudly dirty little boy.
As she walked, head high, face determinedly set, Foster strutted for the cameras. Deliberately he played up to them. He proudly displayed not only his powerful body but his lovely catch. As they made the long walk from his shuttle to the sweeping courthouse steps, Foster rested his hand on the small of her back, possessive and arrogant as he escorted her along.
Angry shouts that decried Jynx were almost drowned out by gleeful shouts that Foster had well earned his bonus. At first, Jynx didn’t understand, then did. He had been paid extra to bed her. Jynx knew in her heart he had not done so for the money. She believed him when he said he’d never slept with one of his prisoners.
Foster gave a quick dip of his middle finger along the narrow split of Jynx’s bottom, making sure everyone realized she didn’t wear panties.
Cheers erupted as Foster withdrew his suggestive finger. Macho and proud, he ushered her ever closer to the steps where Roberts waited.
Jynx could only imagine how the scene looked to those watching via the Tasher. The crazy yet pretty doctor escorted by a hulking erotic nightmare from a thousand IWOG tales. Willfully touching her, preening for the cameras as she walked resolute.
Don’t react. No matter what I say or do. Don’t. Keep your head high. So Jynx did. Against a voice that told her to rebel, she did what Foster said, despite the fact he was touching her body in blatantly sexual ways. Foster swaggered like a domineering thug as Jynx walked with calm, dignified steps to where Roberts waited. Take your time. Don’t hurry. Oh, God. If he played her, she let him.
A phalanx of IWOG officers barely held the angry mob in check. As she walked the gauntlet, Jynx could smell fresh-mown grass, stickdogs and fluff candy, like this was a crazy carnival. Peripherally, she could see merchants well back, selling T-shirts. She couldn’t make out what was on them but knew it wasn’t flattering.
As Foster leaned near, touching her bottom, she smelled that sharp male essence of him. He pulled away, and she found her nose assaulted by the reek of perfume and cologne from the crowds. She’d forgotten how chemical IWOG consumers smelled.
Jynx could see naked lust in the eyes of not only the women but the men. Lust for blood. Violence. Revenge. Lust for sex. Men would love to ravage her just as the women would love to be at Foster’s mercy. Fighting down her knowledge at her own strange heart, Jynx trusted Foster with a confused, fierce pride. Even as he stroked her, fondled and petted her with nasty glee for the cameras, Jynx didn’t buy it. He was only playing the part of the ruthless bastard. She kept her head high, her steps even no matter what Foster did as he escorted her along the screaming gauntlet.
Roberts waited on the steps of the massive sweeping colonnade that ran up to the courthouse.
Careful, detailed attention to lighting made Victoria Roberts appear larger than life. Calm, powder-blue eyes pinned her as Foster led her up the steps.
Half way up, he stopped. With a pinch to her bottom, he stopped her too.
The crowd went silent.
Jynx waited. Foster cupped her bottom, then slowly snaked his hand to his belt. Plucking up something, he demanded, “Half.”
Roberts nodded to an officer who stood well away from her.
“Contract confirmed for half,” Foster said.
She could only guess he’d just received half of the 270Mil in credits.
“Reconfirm identity,” the officer said.
Foster pressed his thumb, then hers, to the screen in rapid succession.
“Confirmed. Foster Nash delivering Jynx Brennan.”
The crowd erupted into cheering and stomping, shaking the ground below not only the step they stood on, but practically the whole planet of Juno. A hundred IWOG worlds and a good portion of those on the Fringe likely erupted into screaming joy as well. Nothing like live feed to keep the populace up-to-date.
Neither Foster, nor Jynx, nor Roberts reacted.
Fondling her ass with a sly, suggestive hand that he let linger so the cameras could record it, Foster leaned to Jynx and said, “Not long now, Sweets.”
Jynx didn’t react. Keeping her gaze on the horizon, she found Victoria Roberts standing there. Dignified in dark navy with subtle gold highlights. Coal-black hair swept to a simple tidy knot on the nape of her neck, like Jynx wore it, in the lab. Before Jynx had hacked her hair off in a pathetic bid for freedom. Roberts could still unfurl her hair, like a dark mythical snake. Jynx could not unfurl hers in a cascade of light. Hard-hacked, her honey strands barely swept her shoulders.
Keeping her mind calm, Jynx unfocused her eyes and looked at a point just over Victoria’s head. Such a gaze would seem indifferent to one looking in.
Closing the distance, she and Foster now stood one step below Roberts. Foster still had a
lmost half a foot in height on Victoria despite her step up. It again reminded Jynx of what a big man Foster was.
Roberts had arranged it well. No cameras or microphones close. “Shackles should have been in back.” Her voice rolled softly as her lips barely moved.
“Not specified in the contract,” Foster returned, keeping his voice low too.
“Smarter that way,” Victoria said.
“Not really. For what you’re gonna do.”
Roberts calmly assessed Foster. “You know what I’m going to do.” Roberts flicked her gaze to the very lethal IWOG officer’s pistol below her jacket.
“Naw. You’re not going to shoot her. Trust me, Vic, you grin right now, nod, shake my hand and take us both up and inside. Media eye will love it.”
Without missing a beat, Roberts did exactly what Foster suggested.
Burbling excitement, the crowd below had to content themselves with speculation as Roberts drew them inside the media-free courthouse.
Foster stopped. “Half.”
Roberts shot him a murderous glare. Apparently, Foster had changed the rules on her, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Give him the other fucking half!” she shouted to her lackey who stood well back.
With the transfer complete, Foster tucked the device to his belt.
“Give me one good reason for this.” Furious at having been denied a moment she’d waited weeks and paid such a high price for, Roberts glared at Jynx, clearly itching to haul out her gun and shoot.
“She’s knocked up.”
Jynx didn’t even flinch, despite the way her heart lurched in her chest.
“So?” Smirking, Roberts asked, “Is it yours?”
“Hardly.” Foster rolled his eyes. “Brandt’s the father.”
“Again, so?” Roberts cast him a gaze that said she drew ready to pull her gun on him if he didn’t get to the point.
“Father’s a reader, mother’s a reader, what are the odds that the brat will be one too?”
Runner: The Fringe, Book 3 Page 21
