by Lauren Dane
“It’s hard to believe any adult male could be so naïve. Marcus is going to have to have a long talk with his son when he gets out of this,” Roman grumbled as they jumped over a suspicious puddle. “If he does.”
“He will. There is no way I’m going to let him go down for this. There’s not enough evidence to send him away for life. I just hope to hells I can get him out totally. He doesn’t deserve even a disorderly and a few months in lockup for this. From all my contact with Jaron, I’ve found him to be sweet and so very soft. I can see him unable to understand how stupid it was to come out here. I mean, he wasn’t raised to have to be so very aware of the dangers in this world, you know? I just need to find these others.” She looked up and saw the numbers she’d been looking for. “Here. Now listen. Stay quiet unless I tell you otherwise, all right?”
The way he pursed his lips, wanting to argue, charmed her but she hardened herself to it. He had to let her lead.
He finally nodded.
The scent in the hallways made her think of that tiny flat her family had crammed into from when she was fourteen until she was just a season away from turning eighteen standard, the age of majority. She had left it behind for a slot with a barrister to serve as his protégé and a space at the university, far away in the center’s innermost circle.
Spices, cleaning fluids from the families who scrubbed their tiny homes with great pride, alcohol from those who had less pride every day, and beneath all of it, the hint of just barely getting by. It wasn’t as bad here, but it hung in the air like a ghost.
“One more floor.” Thank goodness both of them were in good shape.
She knocked and rang the bell, heard the sounds inside and the slide of a viewport being opened. Abbie looked straight into it, letting the person behind the door see her face.
“I’m Abigail Haws, here to speak with Fane Albert regarding the murder charges against Jaron Mach.” She held up her government-issued identification card and after a time, the locks slid open and the door breached a crack.
“I’m Fane’s mum. What do you want with him?”
“Do you want me to do this in the hallway?” Abbie leaned in so the older woman could hear her.
“And who’s he then?” Fane’s mother nodded in Roman’s direction.
“This is my assistant. So? Shall I ask my questions out here?”
With a heaving sigh, the woman opened the door and let them in.
Roman watched, frankly amazed at what a hard-ass Abigail Haws could be. She’d zeroed in on Fane Albert, who sat sullenly on the couch, letting his mother answer the door and hide him from the public. At first the youth had tried to suck up, flattering her, and then he’d gotten rude. All throughout, Abbie had simply stuck to the subject, taking notes and following up. Roman had been impressed by her mind, by the way she’d stayed on task while seeming to wander around and keep Fane unsure as to what she wanted. Somehow a ruthless woman existed beneath that tiny exterior and Roman got off on it.
Abbie acted nonchalant as they left, but her walk was flavored with purpose. She obviously had a destination in mind. Roman didn’t like the neighborhood, the way people watched them through curtains and down alleyways. It made him nervous as they moved to the next place, but she didn’t seem bothered. So far, her little experiment to teach him about the world of the unranked hadn’t given him many positives.
“Fuck, that’s him,” she said as she began to run. “You! Cris Balow, stop your ass right there!”
For a small woman she moved amazingly fast. He would have lost her if his legs hadn’t been so much longer than hers.
This Cris person didn’t have Roman’s legs or his luck. Abbie pushed her way through a group of boys, ran straight up to Cris and poked her finger in his chest. “You made me run. I hate to run,” she snarled. She grabbed his ear and pulled him out of the crowd and toward a café on a nearby corner. Roman looked on, amazed the kid didn’t hit her or try to stop her in some way.
“Hey, lady, let go of me! Who do you think you are?” Cris whined.
“I know your sister, Jasmine. She would knock you out if she had any idea the crowd you were running with. What are you thinking? Those boys are nothing but trouble. Now you tell me everything about that night in the Two Moons and you tell me right now. Or I’m making a comm to Jasmine.”
The youth’s eyes widened and he looked around furtively.
“They can’t hear. They scattered because they think I’m either corps or the polis. Either way, you’re fine. Unless you don’t tell me.”
“I don’t know much, I swear. Fane’s cousin Mikel had just come back from Borran where he’d been training in the corps. He saw some soft, inner-circle guy he knew. Said we could count on him for a night of free drinks and food.” Cris shrugged. “Who am I to argue? The guy seemed really out of his element, you know? Nice. I felt bad. You can ask the others, I tried to get him to leave a few times, and when he didn’t get it, I tried to run interference along with another guy to keep the softie safe. There were women, way too fast for the likes of me, much less this Jaron kid. A fight broke out. You know, women, a few guys with credits, too much alcohol. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know who started what, but this Jaron, he’d been at a table with me. The action was near the bar.”
“Did you tell the polis this?”
“Are you kidding me? I ran out of there, trying to drag him with me, but he got caught up in it. I have a few priors on my record. If I go into lockup, there won’t be anyone to help my mom and Jasmine. How did you find me?”
Abbie sighed and closed her notebook. “Jaron told me your name and the names of people he could remember. I’ve just been to Fane’s and his mother helped him remember pretty much the same story you’ve given. Now, I’m entering this into my evidence. I’m trying to get Jaron out of lockup, trying to get the charges dropped. I may need you to come and give your statement in person. I know you won’t want to, but you can’t possibly be related to Jasmine if you’d let someone rot in lockup when you know he’s not guilty.”
Cris hung his head and nodded. “I guess you know where I live anyway.”
“And where you work. So don’t even think of running. I’ll find you and then have you tossed in lockup until trial. It won’t be pretty, and your mom and Jasmine will miss the income.”
“Why you gotta be so mean?”
“Mean? You listen here, Cris. Jaron Mach is a good, honest man. A person you were content to use for his credits, although I do believe you tried to help him in that bar. Mean is letting him stay in lockup. You know what it’s like in there. Now, you imagine a softie like him in there. Yeah, I see you get the point. I’m not mean at all. I’m not having you thrown into lockup just in case you might run. That would be mean. You should be ashamed of yourself. Now go on home, and if you remember anything else, you call my office. Your mom and sister both know how to contact me.”
Cris ran off without another word, and Roman chuckled. “Well now, that ear twist thing is a handy move.”
She laughed. “I imagine you’ve had to use it yourself a few times. Or did you never have any trouble with your boys?”
“Deimos was relatively easy but Corrin was more problematic. Missed his mother, I expect. My sister lived with us for several standard, helped with them. She’s a second mother more than an aunt. She had the ear twist down to a science. That and the guilt thing you did at the end there.”
“That was nothing. My mother is an artist. She had to be, really, with four kids. It wasn’t so bad in the outback, not a whole lot to get into trouble over. Just miles of empty space. But when we came back here—” Her eyes lost focus and her words wandered off. She came back to herself moments later. “Anyway, my mom is pretty darned good at it.”
He stood and held a hand out. “Come on. Let’s go back to get changed. You promised me dancing.”
“I did, didn’t I? Well okay. We need to stop near the tram entrance. There’s a sweet shop there that carries the nut pral
ines my sister loves. I need to grab some for her. Her birthday is coming up.”
They walked, his arm around her shoulders, as the afternoon settled in around them. Street vendors hawked their wares from the sidewalks and she stopped here and there, chatting and buying odds and ends she tucked into her bag. The time was deliriously normal. Something he’d rarely experienced in his life, even more rarely with a woman at his side.
The sweet shop Abbie directed them to had steamed windows and when they entered, the scent made his mouth water. Rosewater and lavender, honey and vanilla, purri fruit and all the different smells of his childhood.
A tiny, birdlike woman came out from behind the counter and enveloped Abbie in a hug. “Abigail! It’s been a long time. It must be Nyna’s birthday coming up.”
“Mrs. Pike, it’s nice to see you. Your memory is scary. Yes, it’s Nyna’s birthday soon. I was here and thought I’d stop in to get some of your famous pralines. While you’re at it, the honey bites and some of that rosewater candy my mother likes, too, please.”
“Here, you look like you could use a bit of something sweet. Other than our lovely Abigail, that is.” Mrs. Pike handed Roman a small bundle. “Caramels? My ancestors brought these recipes through from Earth. This shop has been here in one form or another since Ravena was settled.”
“Mrs. Pike, this is my friend Roman. Roman, this is Mrs. Pike. When I was in school, we would often come down here to this very shop to load up on sweets. Then she and my mother became thick as thieves.”
She’d not introduced him by name back when she was interviewing people, but now he was Roman. This Mrs. Pike must be someone he could trust, at least with his name. He liked her, liked the pride she showed in her shop and her candy. He popped a piece in his mouth. Perfect, a hint of sweet, a hint of smoke, soft and delicious. Sort of like Abbie.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. This is the best caramel I’ve ever tasted.”
“Of course it is. I made it myself.” Mrs. Pike puffed out her bony chest and dared him to argue. He wouldn’t even if she had been wrong.
Being with Abbie this way, the scent of the shop making him think about his youth, walking side by side with a woman he’d grown to enjoy, it made him feel truly happy, carefree, for the first time in years.
Mrs. Pike wrapped the candies up with a pretty bow and Abbie tucked them into her bag before she and Roman hustled off to catch the next tram.
The tram ride was short enough when they took the express back to the center. She did everything with an efficiency of movement and effort, and he admired that a lot. She was so self-sufficient. Powerful in a way he had to admit he saw only rarely. Women in Families weren’t raised to be independent. She was alien in the most refreshing sort of way.
The breeze was cold as it came in through the partially opened windows of the tram. He realized he rarely used the public trams for travel. This one was comfortable and well maintained. The neighborhoods became brighter, cleaner and safer-looking as they traveled toward the center. But all he could really think on was how good it felt to have her against his side, her hair brushing against his cheek, the softness of her body against his.
The walk to her place was quick and when they got inside safely, he had nothing on his mind but kissing her. So he did.
Roman was so full of surprises. His mouth covered hers and she gave in easily, wanting the contact after a day with him at her side. He’d kept quiet when she told him to and, it seemed, had even enjoyed being someone else for the day.
The kiss was mellow, slow and sweet, another surprise from the always surprising Roman Lyons. He took his time, tasting, teasing, meandering through her defenses and obliterating each one. Not with force, but with seduction.
Every time he touched her, all she wanted was him. Her need for him was relentless. It never left her. Part of her thrilled at that. No one had ever made her feel this way. On the other hand, it scared her to react so deeply to someone.
He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that all day. How long until you sweep me off to go dancing?”
“Not very. We have reservations shortly.” She slid a hand into his pants and grabbed his cock. “Enough time for me to take care of this though.”
“On your knees, then. You know how I like it.”
No hesitation in his tone. He owned it and it brought a shiver to her. Abbie loved how he was finally at ease enough with her that he could just say it instead of working around to it or using half measures. The man liked it hard and dirty. What was wrong with that?
She sank to her knees, rubbing her face down his belly, over the soft material of his sweater, her fingers nimbly loosing his cock from his pants on the way.
“Lovely.” She looked at his cock for long moments before licking around the head while holding the length of it tight, just how he preferred. He hummed his satisfaction and the low sound echoed straight to her clit.
“Not as lovely as what I’m seeing. So very pretty you are, Abbie. Your mouth wrapped around me, sucking me just right.”
His fingers wove through her hair after he’d taken it down. It never seemed to stay up long around him. She smiled inwardly as she took him into her mouth over and over. The taste of him changed as the surface of his cock changed. His skin was electric, hard. His hips canted forward as he thrust into her mouth. Not too hard, but he wanted her to suck him deeper and he made that clear with his body.
Breathing steadily through her nose, she concentrated on the way she knew she made him feel. There was power on her knees, his cock in her mouth, and she reveled in it. Never had any man been so alluring to her and each moan she wrenched from him made her feel potent, sexy, beautiful.
“I’m going to come in your mouth. I love that. I love that you’d do that for me.”
His fingers tightened as his pace quickened. He hissed a breath and his entire body went taut. A groan echoed through him as he filled her with his taste. Behind her closed eyes, she saw bursts of color as she fell along with him, knowing she’d made him come, knowing he’d trusted her to let his defenses down.
When his grip relaxed and his movements had smoothed into a gentle stroke instead of a frenzied grasp, she licked the head of him, tucked his cock back inside his pants and stood.
“How long do we have?” He pulled her tight to him and kissed her neck, just below her ear.
“I have to change clothes. We don’t have time for reciprocation. I’ll collect later.” She winked at him.
“I can’t stay tonight, unfortunately. My sister is coming to stay with us for a few days. She’s here to see the boys and probably the rest of my family.” He scowled and she wanted to laugh at his expression—like a tot who’d been refused sweets.
“Are you sure you have time for dinner and dancing? We can do this another day.” She didn’t want him to say no.
He spun her, pulling her back to his front and grabbed her breasts. “I have time. I’d rather fuck you senseless, but seeing you dance won’t be a hardship.”
“All right then. There are clothes for you on my bed.”
She leaned back, let him kiss her forehead and moved to the bedroom to get changed. There were no his and hers dressing areas in her flat. It was nice. Years and years of saving and her position as a barrister had enabled her to apply for and secure a place in this block. Close enough to a vent so it wasn’t terribly cold during the chilly parts of the annum. Safe. Secure. It was small but home.
Abbie wondered what his house would be like. What the house of the most powerful and influential man in all the Known Universes looked like. Warm she was sure. Abbie bet he had all the hot water he wanted and more. Palatial, most likely. She pulled on a bright, flowing skirt shot with silver threads. Her blouse was as vibrant but in a complementary color scheme to the skirt.
Abbie might have to wear muted colors to work but when she went out, she loved to wear bright colors and flowing skirts. The feel of the breeze on her legs as she moved, the way th
e fabric swirled and flared as she danced made her happy. It was a chance to be something other than a barrister or an activist. She got to be a woman, plain and simple.
Once she’d secured the front of her hair back with pretty silver clips, she dabbed on some lipstain and put on some earrings before heading back into the living room where Roman was on a comm.
“Deimos, it’s Dai. I’m just calling to check in. Is everything okay?”
She smiled. Here he was, making sure his grown sons were all right. She liked Deimos Lyons a lot. He was intelligent and well-spoken, and he understood the world was more than just his small part of it. Men like Deimos gave her hope for the future.
Men like Deimos, who were most likely the way they were because of how they were raised.
Roman’s gaze found her and took a leisurely trip from her toes to the top of her head. She saw his gaze flare as he took in the more feminine outfit, the way her hair was down and her lips were glossy and red. She knew she looked pretty, but his eyes spoke of need. She craved it, craved his regard and attraction. It ate at her edges, made her want more.
“All right then. Abbie and I are going out now. No, no one will recognize me. Hells, son, I barely recognize me. I’ll have to show you this getup sometime. Yes, yes keep it quiet. I will. And yes, I love you, too.” He disconnected and smiled. “You look beautiful.” He stood, moving to her, circling her.
She liked him in all black. In fact, she was sure he’d look even better in all black with his pale hair and his green eyes. Whatever he wore, she’d take him any way she could get him, and in the black button-down shirt tucked into black trousers with black boots was quite the way to have him.
“Thank you. You don’t do so bad yourself. I’m used to you looking dressed up and professional. But this look is very nice, too. Your ass looks better in these pants, I must say.” She patted his butt and he laughed, putting his arm about her waist.
