Unchained

by C. J. Barry

  "Don't stop on my account."

  Cidra inhaled and collected herself, struggling for a daring, coy smile and utter indifference. “Just checking your weapons."

  Grey grinned. “Is that right? Does my equipment meet your approval?"

  Cidra could feel her forced smile falter. She held his gaze, all the while accepting the fact that there was just no graceful way out of this. “It'll do."

  Admitting defeat via diversion, she nodded towards the window. “Vaasa is beautiful. Have you lived here long?"

  He gave her a long look as if he wasn't ready to change the subject. Then relented and settled back to his relaxed position before answering her.

  "About eight years, but it's always served as my base office. It seemed a logical choice. Calíbre isn't equipped for families or long stretches in space. Most of my crew lives here. It simplifies regrouping.” He paused. “Vaasa has some amazing natural vistas if you're interested in a tour."

  He didn't move, his head back, his eyes closed.

  Cidra blinked, digesting his words, trying to visualize the prospect he'd just laid out. A tour? Did he mean just the two of them? Did she care?

  Her brain screamed no, but her mouth mutinied. “I'd like that."

  He said nothing, remaining perfectly still, except for the corner of his mouth that kicked up.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Whatever Cidra had imagined Grey's house to be, this wasn't it.

  She stood gawking in front of a virtual architectural masterpiece of elegant arches and columns, glistening bone white and impeccable in the Vaasa sun. Flowering vines trailed along two levels of finely-detailed balconies that overlooked manicured gardens and walkways. An abundance of windows forged the symmetry of the front facade. In the archways, hanging baskets of flowers swung in unison in the breeze. It was a work of art unto itself.

  For the first time, Cidra realized just how successful Grey's treasure hunting operation was.

  "Nice place,” Barrios mumbled into her ear while they unloaded the shuttle at the front entrance.

  "I love it,” she whispered louder than she'd intended.

  Hands on his hips, Grey interrupted his quiet reprimand of the impatient shuttle driver to acknowledge her approval. The beleaguered driver seized the opportunity and scurried to his vehicle.

  As the shuttle raced away, the front door flew open as a silver-haired woman in a cobalt dress rushed out, her short, plump body moved with surprising agility, graceful and efficient. She greeted Grey with open arms and a juicy kiss on each cheek.

  She spoke rapidly with a robust accent. “Oh, it's so nice to have you home. It's been too long. You look tired. Have you eaten? No matter. I'll take care of that."

  Clapping her hands together, she turned to Cidra and Barrios.

  "This is wonderful. Guests. It's about time. You should have more friends, dear. More company, more fun. It keeps you happy.” She admonished Grey lovingly and stepped out to meet her guests.

  Cidra could have sworn Grey looked almost sheepish as he introduced her to his housekeeper, Rosa Terranova.

  Cidra smiled and extended a hand. “It's so nice to meet you, Madam Terranova."

  "Ooh, no, no. Rosa, call me Rosa. What a lovely thing you are.” Rosa ignored Cidra's hand and kissed her firmly on both cheeks.

  "Don't you think so Grey?” She turned to him.

  He gave Cidra a potent smile. “Absolutely."

  "But look at you. Ah, too thin.” Rosa shook her head and patted Cidra's bottom. “Got to give a man something to hold on to."

  Cidra managed a weak smile, blushing to a deep pink.

  Grey cleared his throat. “And this is Barrios."

  Rosa turned to stand in front of him and planted her hands on her generous hips.

  "Well, well, so you're the big shot chef, eh? I warn you now, you stay out of my kitchen.” She shook a finger at him.

  "And a pleasure to meet you too, Madam.” Barrios replied sternly, crossing his arms over his enormous chest. “I have no intention of stepping foot in your kitchen."

  "I make good food. Not fancy, not complicated, but good,” Rosa continued righteously as she headed back into the house, waving them in. “Come, come."

  Barrios bristled. “I make good food, too. I am a certified First Order Chef."

  "Eh, chef, schmef.” Rosa threw both hands up in the air and disappeared toward the interior with Barrios in hot pursuit, the tirade escalating between them.

  Cidra laughed, enjoying the banter. It had been a long time since Barrios had a fitting sparring partner.

  "Come on. I'll show you the house.” Grey guided her up the front steps, glancing inward where a loud crash emanated from the vicinity of the kitchen.

  He shook his head. “Before they destroy it."

  * * * *

  The performance was truly spectacular. Cidra watched with rapt fascination from the second floor balcony of Grey's house as the night air hummed with activity. Around the perimeter of the courtyard, flashes of yellow, blue, and green lights filled the trees where tiny, unknown creatures weaved a dizzying pattern in the darkness. Vaasa's full moon loomed low and large, a luminous background for the cast of thousands.

  The distraction eased the restlessness she'd been experiencing since dinner, due in part to Grey's conspicuous absence. Barrios and Rosa had put forth a valiant effort to fill the void, bickering with varying degrees of determination. Cidra sensed a curious meeting of the minds as their barbs became less lethal and more good-natured. No doubt, Rosa's wonderful meal impressed Barrios, a direct route to his heart if there was one.

  She leaned against the railing and sighed. The more time she spent in Grey's house, the more she loved it. It reminded her of a fine sculpture. The all-white walls enhanced intricate, classic details. All the rooms were open and spacious, flowing from one to the other effortlessly. Furniture was comfortable and functional, windows uncluttered and unadorned. The abundance of balconies welcomed and showcased the outdoors with a jungle of plants that created a seamless transition from interior to exterior.

  By far, the most interesting part of the house was Grey's seemingly endless array of artifacts. His collection aboard Calíbre paled in comparison to the vast assortment exhibited here. The house served as an elaborate display case for everything from masks to weavings, jewelry to etchings. She smiled. She had even seen some of Syrus’ paintings. It was almost like home.

  "Enjoying the show?” Grey appeared silently and leaned on the balcony railing next to her, brushing her arm. She willed herself to remain calm, even though his close proximity raised havoc with her body and soul.

  "What are they?” Cidra asked of the intertwining lights.

  "Vergon Gypsy Wings. They're native to Vaasa."

  "Beautiful,” Cidra sighed. “Do they do this every night?"

  Grey shook his head. “Once a year."

  His voice sounded strained and Cidra turned to look at him. He stared at the lights, his face hard set. The lines on his face were cut deeper than she remembered. His eyes were dark and distant.

  "Why only once a year?"

  "They're mating. The males are yellow, and the females are blue. The colors mix to green when they mate.” He took a deep breath. “Then they lay their eggs and die."

  "Really?” Cidra's eyes widened.

  "Really. Makes you glad you're not a gypsy wing, doesn't it?” Grey rubbed the back of his neck.

  Cidra nodded. “Definitely.” She suddenly felt sorry for the little doomed creatures. “Do you think they know what's going to happen to them?"

  Grey shrugged. “It's their destiny. They can't change what they are."

  Although he stood right next to her, he was far away. She could see his muscles bunched tightly under his shirt.

  "You talked to Mora,” she stated, not stopping to consider the consequences.

  "Yes.” He looked straight ahead.

  "Are you sure it was her?"

  "Yes."

  "She was more
than just your cook, wasn't she?” Cidra whispered.

  He didn't answer her. He was too busy mentally rerunning his heated conversation with Mora. When he fired her, she had been furious, swearing at him and making some nasty comments about his lovemaking skills. The discussion had digressed from that point. He must have been blind to trust her. He had no one to blame but himself. He took her without knowing her and paid dearly for his moment of weakness.

  "I'm sorry.” Cidra reached out and placed her hand gently on his arm.

  His jaw tightened. “Forget it. It won't happen again."

  Cidra frowned. “What do you mean?"

  "I broke my own rule. Never get involved with a member of the crew,” he said bluntly. “Bad for business."

  Cidra withdrew her hand as if it were on fire. “We all make mistakes, Grey."

  "I trusted her. That's one error I won't repeat."

  The message was unmistakable.

  Cidra's mouth dropped open. She swung around to face him, indignation lacing her words. “Does that include me? Do you distrust everyone you meet or is it just me?"

  His eyes narrowed in warning. “You of all people should know the price of betrayal."

  His words struck hard. Anger, deep and swift, shot through her. “Yes, I do. But I won't let it rule my life. I believe most people can be trusted."

  "Is that a fact?” With lightning speed he reached out, grabbed her by the waist and yanked her hard against his chest. She gasped at the raw strength, hard muscle and harder eyes. He crushed her arms between them.

  His words seared her face, all heat and fury. “You don't even know me, Cidra. How do you know you can trust me?” He pulled her closer, her mouth inches from his.

  She didn't fight him. It was obvious he was trying to make a point. Damned if she'd give it to him.

  "Syrus chose you. That's good enough for me,” she replied, calm and cold.

  His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Maybe I've changed since Syrus knew me."

  If she hadn't been watching, she would have missed the flash of regret in his eyes. Pain so deeply buried, that only someone who knew suffering would recognize it. Her anger seeped away, replaced by sudden understanding and great sadness.

  "Something tells me you haven't changed very much since you left Avion fifteen years ago,” she said softly.

  Grey's expression changed, from anger to surprise to disbelief in an instant. Seconds ticked by, she didn't move, didn't want to tempt the dangerous fire in his eyes. Finally he released her and braced his hands against the railing. He stared out into the still night air.

  "Go inside, Cidra. Show's over."

  * * * *

  Grey stormed into the kitchen, threw himself onto a stool and glared at Barrios who was making the morning meal. How he hated sleepless nights.

  Barrios looked at him warily, his eyebrows high. “Sleep well?"

  "No.” The word was an answer and a warning in one.

  Barrios nodded once. Heeding the warning, he busied himself with serving the meal.

  Grey finally broke the tension with a gruff, “Where are they?"

  "Who?"

  "Not funny, Barrios. Where are Cidra and Rosa?” Grey barked.

  "There's a note.” Barrios inclined his head toward the message board. The old man chuckled as Grey leapt from the stool to read it.

  Boys-

  We went to the market early. See you at dinner. Behave.

  Rosa

  Barrios grunted. “Boys! Indeed. That woman needs a lesson on the difference between boys and men."

  It was Grey's turn to raise an eyebrow. Well, well. Wasn't that interesting. He scanned around for another note. Nothing from Cidra. She was still mad. And she had every right to be.

  He blew out a breath in self-disgust, knowing full well it was his own fault. He had spent the better part of last night reliving the argument and it didn't improve with repetition. How could he have been such a fool? She actually tried to comfort him and he brushed her off. No, he had shoved her off, scared her and practically thrown her out. All in less than a minute. Must be some kind of record. He'd better devote a good portion of the day figuring out how to rectify the mess he'd made.

  Barrios set the full plates on the table and sat down. “So, what's on for today?"

  Grey took a deep breath. He couldn't do anything about Cidra right now. Besides, he had another serious matter to attend. He sat down across from Barrios and smiled for the first time this morning. “Depends. How are you at spreading rumors?"

  * * * *

  By the time they broke for mid-day meal, Cidra had decided that Rosa's energy knew no bounds. It manifested itself in effervescent chatter, flurries of animated gestures and a walking pace that would have put Grey to shame. But at least keeping up with Rosa's rapid-fire manner took her mind off the previous night's disaster. She was immensely grateful they had escaped Grey's house early this morning before he arose. She had no desire to endure an encore performance.

  "Are you all right, my dear?” Rosa placed her hand on Cidra's arm. “Have I worn you out? It was a busy morning."

  Cidra shook her head and smiled back across the small dining table in the crowded eatery Rosa had chosen. “No, you haven't.” Then she frowned and said uncertainly, “We are done, aren't we?"

  Rosa laughed and patted her arm. “Yes, quite. I think Grey will be pleased with your purchases. Those dresses especially.” Her eyes lit up. “He'll like those."

  "I doubt that,” Cidra muttered and caught Rosa's questioning gaze. “We had a few words last evening. Right now, I don't think he'd look at me if I walked in completely naked."

  Rosa waved her off. “Oh, nonsense. He would do more than look. And what are a few words? To your life, they add excitement and energy. Tell you things you did not know. Best of all, they give you reason to make up.” She winked.

  Cidra shook her head in amazement. The woman was positively unsinkable.

  "The words, what were they about?"

  Cidra sighed, rubbing her temples. “Trust, mostly. Women, in particular. Mora, specifically. And me, by gender. I don't understand it. I've done nothing to earn his mistrust."

  "Then you have no worry. He will come around. Grey is stubborn, yes, but fair. A man who admits his mistakes. Give him time,” Rosa stated with confidence.

  Cidra could only hope. She hated the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she thought of him. She preferred the heat he stirred so effortlessly.

  A server delivered their lunch order.

  After he left, Cidra hedged, “Rosa, do you know anything about Grey's family?"

  Rosa dove into her lunch and shook her head. “He does not offer. I do not ask. Why?"

  Cidra shifted in her chair. “I was just wondering."

  "What of your family?” Rosa asked with a smile on her ruddy face.

  "I don't have any. Barrios is the closest thing to family I've got,” Cidra spoke softly and stared into her plate.

  Rosa was silent for a few long moment. Then she gently covered Cidra's hand with hers and smiled.

  "Well, now you have us."

  * * * *

  "Here's to a job well done, my boy.” Barrios saluted Grey with his fifth drink and downed it in a single swallow. Coon, fresh off his shift guarding the docked Calíbre, gave Grey a big smile with a mouthful of mismatched teeth and shot back his drink in kind. Grey shook his head, envisioning a long night of salutes.

  The saloon keeper began setting up another round. Barrios shooed him away. “You'll wear yourself out keeping up with us. Just leave the bottle, we'll serve ourselves."

  Then giving himself a self-congratulatory smile, he sloppily poured the next round.

  It was bound to happen, Grey thought, as he eyed him. Barrios had finally discovered Oeno and embraced it like a long lost friend. Life would never be the same. Still, he couldn't have asked for a better partner today.

  Between the two of them and the deal with Rourke, they had spread the word
all over the city that Grey was leaving in two days to retrieve the Lost Mask of Teran. That should give Wex incentive enough to take the false file Mora stole and spend the next several months traveling across the galaxy to the middle of nowhere. He couldn't help but smile.

  They drank on, saluting everyone and everything. Toasts to the inventors of Oeno and reverse thrusters. To the visionary of long-legged street molls and horizontal beds. To the short skirts the servers wore. To the inventor of short skirts.

  Drinks were raised as Barrios offered the next toast. “To fast ships.” Grey drank heartily to that.

  "To faster women,” Coon said. Barrios drank heartily to that. After a moment, he noticed that Grey hadn't joined the required salute.

  "Stone, you're not drinking to faster women.” Barrios nudged him, splashing his drink. “Don't you care for fast women? Ah, maybe you prefer the ones that burn slower and last longer?"

  Grey narrowed his eyes at him. “Maybe, but I'm not talking."

  Barrios roared with laughter. “Son, you don't have to. It's written all over your face. You're in deep trouble, my boy. I can feel her cold shoulder from here. What did you do to rile her?"

  "It wasn't my fault.” Grey defended himself, although the words sounded feeble even to him.

  Coon offered some slurred advice, waggling a finger. “It doesn't matter if it's your fault or not. She'll wear you down. Then you'll...” He nodded wisely. The other two men looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish. After a few seconds, it became obvious that he thought he already had.

  Barrios turned back to Grey and prodded. “Out with it, Stone. Cidra doesn't get upset for nothing."

  "I can't remember exactly. Something about me not trusting her. I was pretty mad at the time,” he mumbled over the rim of his drink.

  "You told her you didn't trust her?” Barrios eyes widened. Then he let out a slow, wobbly whistle. “You got big trouble, son. She's spent the past ten years trying to make up for what her father was accused of. I never saw anyone take their obligations as seriously as she does. Cidra's straight up. You should know that by now."