by J. M. Page
“I need to speak with you,” Mara said, ignoring all the others at the round table.
Torak’s jaw twitched. “It will have to wait, I’m in the—”
“It can’t wait,” she interrupted, ignoring the shocked looks sent her way. She didn’t care about any of these other strangers or what they thought of her.
Torak regarded her for a long heavy moment before sighing. He nodded and pushed back from the table. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said to the group, an apologetic note in his voice.
Still, Mara couldn’t care less about the perceived rudeness of leaving in the middle of whatever this was.
Torak crossed the room in three long strides and took her by the arm, steering her into a little room across the hall. The room was empty except for the teetering towers of crates lining the walls. Some sort of supply room, she figured.
“You can’t interrupt me like tha—”
“Where’s my father?” Mara demanded, hands flying to her hips. She was through being bossed around. He couldn’t scold her like a child. Not after what they’d done. She wasn’t just another member of the crew now, no matter how much they tried to pretend around others.
“He’s in the hold, awaiting sentencing,” Torak said, voice flat and expressionless.
“Sentencing?” Mara nearly screamed. “Sentencing for what? For trying to see his daughter?” Her pulse galloped, her whole body feeling jittery and alert. In the deep recesses of her brain, a throbbing ache lingered.
Torak was unmoved by her emotions and actually seemed rather… bored. It only made Mara angrier.
“He stole something of immeasurable value from me. I cannot let that stand without repercussions,” he said.
Mara faltered, her quick retort dying on her lips. On the one hand, she wanted to be flattered by his ‘immeasurable value’ comment. It made her feel desired and wanted. Not just some trinket to be forgotten or discarded after he’d had his fun.
But on the other hand…
“He stole from you? Like I’m your property?” Mara’s voice inched up an octave, hysteria clawing at her throat.
“I thought this was…” she started, not knowing how to finish that sentence. What did she think was going on? She was forced to be on his ship — that wasn’t the start of any great romance stories she knew about. She’d been foolish to think otherwise. Foolish for indulging in the fluttery feelings he inspired or the curiosity that spurred her to know him on a deeper level.
So, so foolish.
Torak’s jaw dropped. “That’s not what I—”
Mara held up a hand. So much for calm and rational. So much for getting her dad out without a fight. So much for tact. “You know what, just save it. Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. This was such a huge mistake. You’re exactly what I thought you were — a bully and a criminal.” She thought she’d get such immense satisfaction from hurling those words at him, but the hurt that crossed his features only made her feel guilty.
He didn’t respond, just stared at her blankly, a curtain of pain and betrayal dropping over his eyes. He set his jaw, all tenderness gone now. “Is that all?” he asked, cold as the vacuum of space itself.
Mara faltered, tripping over her own thoughts in a mad dash to remedy the damage she’d done. But it was too late, and she was still mad at him anyway. “No, it’s not,” she said, earning another annoyed glare from him. “My father is an idiot sometimes, but he doesn’t deserve to be punished for trying to help his daughter. He’s only trying to look out for me, even if he goes about it the wrong way.”
Torak nodded, curt and withdrawn. “Your objections have been noted,” he said, turning on his heel to leave the storage closet.
Mara stared at the door after he left, replaying the whole conversation in her head. She certainly could have handled it better, but now she knew what Torak really thought of her. She knew that she was only another possession. Another trophy for his case.
The thought made her sick. It made her heart ache and her chest tighten. She sank to the floor in slow motion, despair weighing her down until she curled up in a tight ball, tears slowly forming a puddle on the floor under her nose.
Clearly, she’d been right about the Captain in the beginning. As much as it hurt to accept that now, she knew he didn’t have any good in him. Not after the way he treated her father. Not after the way he treated her. She couldn’t count on him. She couldn’t even trust him.
No. Whatever good deeds Torak had done in the past were surely only for the pay day. He was a ruthless mercenary, concerned only with wealth and power.
Even though he sparked her curiosity and made her dream impossible dreams, Mara didn’t think there was ever going to be any hope for them. Or him.
Chapter Eleven
Torak
Torak stormed right past the flight deck where Nexus officials awaited his decision. He stomped by his own quarters. He blew through a group of crew persons, not pausing to acknowledge any of them even as they addressed him.
What was wrong with her? He was only trying to look out for her.
Yes, the man was her father, but it could have been anyone in the galaxy! If Torak let one person steal from him, what was to stop another? From stopping everyone?
He remembered all too vividly the ice-cold panic that gripped his lungs when Delta broke the news. “Mara and one of the pods are missing.” At first, Torak panicked because he thought she’d gone willingly. That she just up and left him without a word.
Then, after they checked the surveillance vids — none of which clearly showed the abductor’s face — he panicked for a different reason: fear for her safety.
Torak had no way of knowing who’d abducted her or why. He played through a million scenarios, from it being a random grab for ransom, all the way to someone finding out about his attachment to her and using her to hurt him.
He’d had no way of knowing if she was even alive or dead after the pod left the ship.
They’d managed to track down the pod, tucked away in an abandoned sector of the base, but it took much longer to find Mara herself. Every second stretching to oblivion, sending his alarm and worry rocketing away.
He couldn’t remember feeling so scared in his whole life.
And then, he’d spotted her, limp, pale, unresponsive. His mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, terror gripping him, rage closing in quickly. He should have gotten to her sooner. Should have protected her better. And he’d make whoever did this pay dearly.
But then she was okay, cradled in his arms, nestled against his chest. Holding her was the only thing that stopped the frantic racing of his pulse, the only thing that calmed the surging dread and fury.
It wasn’t until the man was in the Affliction’s holding cell that Torak realized who he was and why he’d taken Mara.
That was still no excuse. A deal was a deal and he’d gone back on their agreement. Torak couldn’t let that go.
The debate of what to do with her father had been difficult enough before Mara made an appearance. Torak was so conflicted on what to do and how to handle the situation. The base officers advised that he be sent out an airlock, to avoid further troubles with him, but Torak couldn’t do that when he thought about Mara’s reaction. Someone else suggested the Queen’s prison, but that wasn’t much better than certain death.
They were still in the middle of the heated discussion when she’d interrupted.
He played the whole conversation over in his head again, every word, every expression permanently etched onto his memory, for better or worse. You’re exactly what I thought you were.
He’d never thought so few words could do so much damage. That such a simple sentence could grab a hold of his very heart and rip it to shreds without even trying. It had taken a lot for him to reveal his insecurities to Mara and she threw them right back in his face.
His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He stormed through the ship, not caring who he had to push out of his way to get
there.
Didn’t she know how much he cared about her? How worried he’d been? How devastated he was when he thought he’d lost her forever?
He scowled. It didn’t matter now. She’d made her true feelings known. There was nothing more to do about it now. It was stupid of him to ever think that someone could look at him differently, with anything other than contempt.
He’d never forget that exact look shimmering in her amber eyes, cutting him to the bone.
“Captain,” a guard said with a nod as he passed through a secure door.
How could everything change so quickly? He felt like a different person now than he did when they’d docked only hours ago. Once again, he’d lost all hope of ever being anything better. The one person who saw something different in him had lost faith. Why shouldn’t he too?
Torak stopped outside the only occupied cell and pressed his palm to the lock. It snapped open and he threw the door wide.
“Get off my ship,” he said, his voice dark and menacing. “Don’t ever come back unless you plan to die.”
The old man huddled in a corner, coughing and sputtering, struggling to breathe. He glared at Torak, not sure whether to trust his word or not.
“My daughter,” he coughed the words, his face deep red from exertion.
“She is well and will remain for the duration of her commitment,” Torak said, still remembering the hurt in her eyes. The venom in her words. He wished he could go back in time and handle the whole thing differently, but he could at least give her this much. Against his better judgement.
It may be too late to win her favor or forgiveness, but Torak could still give her what she wanted. There may be no chance of them reconciling their differences, but no matter how much he wanted to, he was unable to forget the way she turned his blood hot and made his heart light.
“Please,” the old man sputtered. “You don’t understand. She needs to be home. She’s sick.”
Torak didn’t know what game the old man was playing at, but his patience wore thinner by the second. Show an ounce of compassion and they’re willing to walk all over you.
“Leave now before I change my mind and let the base authorities deal with you.”
That was enough to knock some sense into the prisoner. He scrambled to his feet, his breath still coming in wheezing gasps. Torak stepped aside from the doorway and he scrambled out, pausing long enough to send another frightened look up at Torak.
“She’s only safe with me,” he said.
Torak didn’t reply. His gut reaction was to reach out, grab the man by the throat, and haul him up against the wall for implying that Torak couldn’t keep his woman safe.
His woman? His inner voice snorted with derision. Yeah right. Maybe before today. But not now. Not after what had gone down in the supply closet.
Still, the assertion that Torak couldn’t keep his own crew safe would have been enough to push him to violence only a short time ago. Before he’d met Mara, he wouldn’t have thought twice about hurting someone for such a comment. But now…
What was the point?
Sensing that he was pushing his luck, the old man gave Torak one last appraising look before he scampered away. Torak called ahead to the guard to escort the man off the ship. They’d be leaving right away and he wasn’t going to take any chances.
“She’s only safe with him,” Torak muttered under his breath, the words still prickly under his skin. “She would’ve been safe with me if he’d never shown up.”
Still, as Torak walked back to the flight deck — he still needed to deal with the Nexus officials — he wondered what exactly that meant.
She’s sick. But Mara seemed fine. She worked as hard as anyone else in the crew. She didn’t seem to be suffering. She’d certainly never mentioned anything. They were just the desperate words of a lonely old man trying to get his daughter back.
He couldn’t think about it too much. Couldn’t give any credence to the old man’s ramblings without questioning so much else. He just needed to forget about it. To forget about him. To forget about her. It was over. She wanted nothing more to do with him now. Maybe ever. Maybe she’d only been getting close to him to try and get off the ship. To abandon her post.
His hands balled into fists. He desperately wanted to punch something. To destroy anything in his path.
Instead, he put on a calm façade and waltzed back onto the flight deck, nodding to each man in turn. “Gentleman,” he said. “Thank you for your time, but your services are no longer required. I’ve handled the matter on my own.”
There were murmurs around the table, but no one objected outright as they stood together and filed out, leaving the ship.
Torak retracted the table and slumped back into the Captain’s chair, taking a moment to gather himself before he gave the call for take-off. He just needed a moment alone, to process everything.
After a moment of replaying everything over yet again, Torak was more hopeless than ever. Angrier, more bitter, and more determined to live up to everyone’s low expectations of him.
He reached out for the comm panel and waited until Sande’s face appeared.
“I’d like to amend the itinerary,” Torak said. If Sande was surprised, he did a good job of hiding it. He always did. He was as unflappable as they came.
“Oh?” Sande said, waiting for further instructions.
“I’m in dire need of the comforts of Haven,” he said, thinking of the dozens of ways he could erase Mara from his memory at the smuggler’s outpost.
Sande showed the faintest hint of disappointment, but Torak didn’t care to focus on why. He didn’t care if he disappointed everyone now. He’d already ruined everything with the person he cared most about.
Of course he cared about Sande, too, but it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same. And Sande would never desert him so easily. Maybe it was for the best after all.
“Yes sir,” Sande said. “I’ll update the coordinates right away.”
“Good. And prepare the crew for take-off. You’ll be in the Captain’s seat,” he said. He wasn’t in any mood to face his crew — or the possibility of seeing Mara again. He’d much rather retreat to his room and drown himself in Jindaran whisky.
Sande faltered, shock clear on his face this time. “Y-yes sir,” he said, silver eyes narrowing. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss, Captain?”
Torak knew his friend was fishing for information. He knew he’d eventually tell Sande about the fight, or that he’d hear about it from someone else, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. To talk about it, to think about it, to even acknowledge it.
“No, that’s all. I’ll be in my quarters until we arrive. Please ensure I’m not disturbed.”
“Yes sir,” Sande replied.
The transmission ended and Torak stared at his reflection in the blank screen. With one final burst of latent rage, he slammed his fist into the panel before retreating, cradling his bloody hand.
He didn’t leave his quarters for the duration of the trip to Haven, choosing instead to wallow in a pool of his own self-pity. He tried drowning his sorrows, but even that was unsatisfactory up to a point. Nothing could take his mind off Mara, or the fact that she was still onboard the same ship as him. Somewhere, nearby, within reach, but so far out of his grasp.
Time crawled at first, every second a harrowing reminder of the misfortune that surrounded him. As the journey continued, time sped up, and before Torak knew it, he heard the call to brace for gravity.
He remembered the last time he was on this forsaken planet. The visit that seemed to alter the course of his life, changing everything. Turning it all upside down until he questioned everything he thought he knew.
No, that wasn’t Haven’s doing. It was Mara’s.
Mara with her rich mahogany tresses. Mara with those inquisitive amber eyes. Mara with her acceptance and understanding.
Or not, he scoffed inwardly. That was who he thought Mara was, not who she
really was.
Torak had tried not to dwell on it too much, but it was impossible to ignore the pressing question of why she’d been so misleading. What was she playing at? Was she trying to reduce her sentence? Trying to gather secrets for competition, or worse, the Queen?
None of it made any sense, but there was no use questioning it now. She’d been very clear about her opinions of him. Just a bully and a criminal, Torak remembered her voice, ringing in his memories as if she spoke to him now.
He flexed his mangled hand, cut up and stiff from smashing the comms panel. Knowing his crew, it was probably already fixed.
