Beyond Solitude

by Kit Rocha

  Mia doubted Dallas had ever paid a cent to Cerys, because Lex understood. She knew about choices and freedom, too.

  This time she jerked hard enough to break free of his grip. “Then I’ll sell myself on the street. You think that’s a worse fate than being with you?”

  He didn’t grab her again. He shoved her against the wall, pinning her there with the bulk of his body. “I don’t give a shit, Mia. But what’s mine is mine.”

  The back of her head cracked into the wall, slamming her teeth together on the tip of her tongue. The bag slipped from her suddenly limp fingers. She tasted blood, tasted fear.

  Vaughn would take her back to Sector Two. He wouldn’t touch her—he’d never touch her, not with the corruption of Sector Four added to her many sins—but he’d whore her out to every trading partner he had. He’d do it out of spite, to show her her place, to punish her for wanting more.

  He’d do all of it...but only if she let him.

  He was still smirking down at her when she rammed her knee into his balls.

  Mia had been gone too long just to pick up breakfast.

  Ford rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, all the while telling himself he was being stupid. There were a dozen ways she could have been delayed—waiting for more coffee to brew or pastries to bake, a conversation, anything. And she’d be offended as hell when he showed up in the market like a possessive, crazy asshole.

  He went anyway.

  Ford was halfway across the street just outside the border of the O’Kane compound when the kid from the robbery skidded to a stop in front of him. His face still bore the bruises of Ford’s smackdown, but there was nothing but eager concern in his eyes. “Your girl,” he panted, jerking a finger toward the market. “Some slick dude in a suit—”

  Ford’s heart shot into his throat. Someone from Sector Two—one of Cerys’s men, maybe even Mia’s former patron himself.

  He brushed past the kid and ran, ignoring the dull ache that sparked in his leg. He rounded the corner closest to Lou and Pam’s coffee cart and saw Mia leaning against the wall, ignoring Pam as the older woman dabbed at her lip with a napkin.

  She was bruised and bleeding but alive, all of her focus locked on Ike Armstrong as the cage fighter swung a meaty fist into a suited man’s gut.

  It had to be Vaughn. Ford rushed in, edging Ike out of the way as fury pounded in his head, blurring his vision. He snatched the man up by his jacket lapels and got in his face. “You think you’re a big man, coming here?”

  “Ford—” Mia started.

  Vaughn cut her off with a cold, abrupt laugh. “I think I’m a man who doesn’t care to waste money. She stole from me.”

  “Cry me a river.” He jerked the man up, close to his face. “Did you do that to her lip?”

  Instead of answering, Vaughn turned to Mia. “You idiot girl. You really did try to copy Lex, didn’t you? Does he know how much he’ll owe Cerys—?”

  Ford slipped his fingers in the man’s rumpled tie and twisted, cutting off his air while he counted to five. Slowly. “Don’t look at her—look at me. And answer the fucking question.”

  “He won’t,” Mia said quietly. “He’s used to negotiating with the illegal farms. He’s cruel and petty, but he’s not easily intimidated.”

  Vaughn locked gazes with Ford—and in that moment, Ford knew he’d answer. Not out of fear, or respect, but just to make Mia wrong.

  “Too late.” Ford hauled back and punched him, a clean right hook to the jaw.

  Vaughn staggered back, swaying violently. “She owes me for a year of soft living,” he spat, eyes wild with hate. “I paid for a lady, and they sent me a whore.”

  He just didn’t know when to shut his mouth, did he? Rage boiled up, hazing Ford’s already blurry vision with red, and he jumped on Vaughn, driving him to the ground. He didn’t realize he’d drawn back his fist until it connected with the man’s nose, and then it happened again, and again.

  And again.

  “Ford!”

  Hands locked around his arm. He tried to swing again, and Mia jerked back with a yelp of protest. “Derek, stop. He’s not worth this.”

  Her words cut through the insensate fury, bringing the world around him into sharp relief. The blood on his aching hands, the pain jolting through his bad leg, the tension of his clenched teeth. And the man beneath him, who deserved every ounce of the ass-whipping and more.

  But Mia had asked him to stop. So he heaved a breath, sat back on his heels, his leg screaming, and looked up at the man standing behind her. “Get him the hell out of here, Ike. Dump him somewhere near the wall, and he can find his way back home.”

  Ike Armstrong grunted, hoisted Vaughn’s limp body over one broad shoulder, and headed for the end of the street. The gawking crowd parted in front of him, took one look at Ford, and scattered. Pam glanced between him and Mia, muttered something about a first aid kit, and hurried after them.

  “It’s okay.” Mia crouched in front of him and slid a hand over his. “That fighter showed up so fast, Vaughn barely had a chance to touch me. And I kneed him right in his tiny dick.”

  She moved fast, edgy like a nervous bird, and the sheer apprehension in her voice kicked Ford’s anger a notch higher. “Bullshit,” he said slowly. Clearly. “You know whatever he said to you was bullshit, right?”

  “I know.” But she wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It doesn’t make me any less of a fool for misjudging his pride.”

  Pride hadn’t brought him here, arrogance had. The soul-deep conviction that it was his right to waltz into another territory to take back what was his.

  Fuck that.

  Ford rose. “I should have killed him.”

  “No.” Mia reached for her battered bag of pastries before straightening. “I have to stop running. I can deal with Cerys, but it will cost me more if she has to cover up a dead patron.”

  “Maybe, if he stayed in his own damn sector. But he came to ours, starting trouble. He deserves whatever he gets.”

  The bag crinkled as her fingers clenched tight, and even that couldn’t hide her trembling hands. “I’m sorry.”

  He wanted to reach for her, but with his own hands still shaking—not to mention bloody—it seemed wrong, somehow. “Sorry for what? Walking through the market? Minding your own goddamn business?”

  “For bringing trouble. For stopping you from killing him. I don’t know if...” She trailed off, pressing her fingertips to her bruised lip. “Was it political? Will you be in trouble for letting him go?”

  It wouldn’t go well for Vaughn if he squawked about it. Even in Two, few would sympathize with him for venturing into another sector and getting his ass kicked. “If Cerys didn’t know where you were before, she will now.”

  Mia nodded jerkily before finally meeting his eyes. “What Vaughn said was bullshit. What’s between us has nothing to do with Cerys. I don’t want you to give her anything.”

  He was being a jerk, making her feel worse. Ford sighed and took her in his arms. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.” At least she relaxed into him, burying her face against his throat as her arms went around him. “People protected me. Strangers. Because of you.”

  His arms locked around her—too tight, but he couldn’t seem to ease his hold. “I should have been here.”

  “You didn’t have to be.” She tilted her head back and smiled, even though her split lip made her wince. “Maybe you can’t understand, but that matters. Even if the power isn’t mine, even if he only stepped in to get attention from Dallas—it’s as close to independent as I’ve ever been.”

  A heartbreaking admission. Ford dropped a careful kiss to her forehead. “Come on, let’s get back. You might want to talk to Lex.”

  She winced again—and hid her face against his shirt with a groan. “She’s going to lecture me. She wouldn’t have stopped you.”

  No, she wouldn’t have. Lex got a lot of things when it came to the harsh realities of day-to-day e
xistence—about life in the sectors, about survival and even running away.

  And, maybe more than anything else, she understood about protecting people you cared about and taking action when it was warranted.

  She would understand what Ford had to do.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ford insisted on first aid, a bath, and breakfast in that order. By the time Mia took a seat in Dallas and Lex’s office, she was wishing she’d skipped that last one. Her cinnamon rolls and coffee formed a tight knot in her stomach as she faced Lex across the massive wooden desk.

  Lex eyed her mildly. “It’s catching up with you, huh?”

  Mia didn’t know if Lex was talking about the past or that morning, but her answer was the same either way. “Yes.”

  “Leaving feels like such a final thing, and then you find out it’s only the first step.” She sighed. “Sucker punch.”

  “I didn’t think he’d come after me,” she admitted, and because Lex would understand, she let her frustration creep into her voice. “I know better. Of course he came after me. It was never about whether or not he valued me. I let him hurt me, and then I let that pain make me stupid.”

  Lex waved that away. “Vaughn’s not your problem now. He comes here again, he gets his ass kicked—or worse. But if Cerys shows up...”

  “Five years.” Even saying it out loud made Mia twist her fingers together. One year of patron fees for an Orchid could support a poor family in the sectors eighteen months or more. Even the new, ridiculously extravagant weekly salary Ford had insisted on giving her would barely chip away at how much she’d owe. “She’ll demand it all, won’t she?”

  “At the very least.” Lex rolled her eyes. “And then she’ll find a way to pad the amount, because that’s the kind of mercenary bitch she is.”

  Mia didn’t doubt it. Every house in Sector Two fed its girls on the fantasy of accomplished initiates who had served out the necessary years to repay their training before going on to become fabulously wealthy. After all, a girl who made it that far received a quarter of her patronage fee—minus expenses—every year until she retired.

  Minus expenses. Mia had no doubt that Cerys could pull out a record of every time she’d visited the spa during her year with Vaughn. The costs would be tallied with damning results. A hundred dollars for a bar of soap. Two hundred for a manicure. Fifty dollars for a glass of lemonade.

  Any woman who’d ever retired wealthy in Sector Two had been allowed to do so, because someone had to keep the dream alive.

  “I can’t tell Ford,” Mia said quietly. “He’ll try to pay it. Or he’ll give me another ridiculous raise.”

  “Mmm. And I’d lend it to you, but if I were you? It’d feel a little too much like trading one owner for another.”

  The anxiety twisting her guts into knots tightened into an agony of guilt, because Lex had given her so much already, and it wasn’t fair to feel wary. But Lex didn’t look upset. She looked like she understood, and all of that tension unraveled so fast, Mia slumped back in her chair.

  “I know you wouldn’t mean it like that,” she said, meeting Lex’s eyes. “But that’s what we were trained to appreciate, isn’t it? The balance of power.”

  “Without a doubt.” Lex lifted one eyebrow. “I do know one person who has that kind of money who might be willing to help out and wouldn’t make your new life awkward.”

  “An O’Kane?”

  “Newly minted,” Lex confirmed. “You know Jade, right?”

  A question with layers. Jade was the one who had gotten Mia the job with the O’Kanes, so Lex must know they were acquainted. But asking gave Mia a graceful exit, a way to demure without rejecting an offer. All she had to say was not very well and the conversation would move on.

  “I know her,” she said instead. “She helped me when I first came to Sector Four. Bought me some clothes and stayed with me while I visited the doctor. But this is so much more to ask...”

  “It is,” Lex agreed. “But consider that it might not just be something you need. It might be something Jade needs, too.”

  Mia could see that. Cerys had betrayed Jade on a fundamental level, shattering the one bond of trust that supported the fragile illusion of Sector Two. We’re in this together was the lie they told with smiles and grand promises, but Jade was the reality. She’d climbed higher than any other woman in Two, and all Cerys had cared about was using her hard, using her up.

  Which answered why, but not how. “If she’s willing, I’d be grateful. But are you sure she can afford it?”

  Lex chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  No details, but Mia supposed she should have expected that Lex wouldn’t share secrets. If things went well, someday Mia might know Jade well enough to ask how she’d escaped from Sector Two with that kind of wealth. For now she’d just be grateful. “I don’t want to wait for Cerys to come after me. I need this to be over.”

  “Because you can’t have it hanging over your head, or because Ford won’t let it be? Because I can make him, you know.”

  “It wouldn’t help, because I’ve already fucked him.” The words spilled out, blunt and defensive, and Mia didn’t let them hang there, shaming her. She didn’t retreat. “And I want to do it again, and I can’t. Not like this.”

  Lex regarded her thoughtfully. “Fair enough. It’s hard to move forward when the past is sitting on your shoulders, after all.”

  Fair enough. No recriminations, no disapproval. Mia rubbed her palms against her legs as if she could scrub away the feeling that she deserved it. “I know I’m being reckless. He’s still an O’Kane, and I’m not. And I work for him. He still has all of the power.”

  “With one difference.” Lex leaned back in her chair and swiveled it gently, left to right. “If you said no, Ford would respect that, and so would we.”

  Ford would respect her no. If she’d had any doubts about that, she never would have touched him to begin with. But that wouldn’t make him eager to sit across a desk from her day after day if things went wrong.

  It all came down to trust and if the way he made her feel was worth the risk. It was something she’d have to figure out soon.

  As soon as she’d shaken free of the past.

  Jasper McCray was nothing like Mia had imagined.

  Dallas’s second-in-command was a large, serious man who didn’t need to rely on subtle symbols of power to look intimidating. His size and strength alone conveyed a warning. His full beard, endless tattoos, and battered leather vest conveyed something else. Surrounded by the clean-shaven, carefully tailored men of Sector Two, Jas looked like the only man who wasn’t trying too hard.

  She’d expected all of that. He was the dangerous criminal who’d lured a councilman’s daughter into an illicit affair, after all. No man overly worried about reprisals would have taken up with Noelle Cunningham. But the gentleness under all that raw danger was a seductive flame in the middle of a frozen winter. Mia could see why a terrified city girl had flung herself at this man and held on for dear life.

  No one within the circle of Jasper McCray’s protection had to worry about mundane threats, and having him at her back as they waited for Cerys was the only thing keeping Mia’s nerves from blooming into outright panic.

  “You’re gonna be okay,” he said gruffly. “It’s a simple transaction. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

  Mia tried for a smile. It tugged at her barely healed lip, and she hated that. It would have been smarter to wait a day, until med-gel and time had given her a chance to face Cerys with all her masks in place.

  It would be harder like this, with all of her vulnerabilities on display. But it would be over. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Hey, no problem. Whatever you need.”

  The door in front of them opened, and Mia barely kept from reaching for Jasper’s hand. But it wasn’t Cerys. Instead, a familiar blonde stepped out of Cerys’s office.

  Susi had been a friend. A sister. Mia’s heart thumped hard when the other
woman caught sight of her. Susi’s eyes widened. Relief flickered across her face, and pleasure, and Mia opened her mouth to greet her—

  Too late. Susi’s gaze had jumped to Jas. To his wrists, and the O’Kane tattoos curled around them, as legendary as Dallas O’Kane himself. The blood drained from Susi’s face. Fear filled her big blue eyes.

  A few months ago, Mia might have had the same reaction. She’d been trained as surely as Susi, taught to fear Sector Four, to fear the O’Kanes and everything they stood for. Cerys took few chances now, grinding the fear deep into every girl who might look at her and look at Lex and see salvation.

  Susi had never had a patron. She’d never seen the truth beneath the pretty lies, or had any reason to doubt that the O’Kanes were the real monsters.

  Susi still believed in the dream.

  With a last, regretful look at Mia, she caught up her robes and hurried away, leaving Mia cold and sad and—for one moment—totally alone.

  Jasper swore softly, the sound almost drowned out by the mellifluous chime that filled the room.

  Mia was on her feet before she realized she had moved, and she hated it. Hated that there were instincts buried so deep she might not realize they were there until Cerys jerked the leash. She might spend months digging them out, one by one. She might spend years.

  But she’d do it. All she had to do was walk into that office and buy her freedom.

  Squaring her shoulders, Mia tightened her grip on the envelope holding a fortune in credits and strode into Cerys’s domain for the last time.

  The woman sat behind her wide desk, impeccably dressed, every lock of hair arranged artfully around her shoulders. “Mia. It’s good to see you.”

  The chair set on the opposite side of the desk was shorter than Cerys’s. Not so much the average person would notice, but sitting in it would make her feel small. She couldn’t have this conversation with Cerys looming over her.

  So she remained standing, consciously relaxing her hands until the envelope rested lightly between her fingers. No outward show of anxiety. No unnecessary signs of weakness. No polite chit-chat before getting to the point. “You know I’m here to pay off my training debt. I calculated my expenses. I have the credits.”