A loud crack reverberated through the room, silencing everyone. The hands pawing her paused and all eyes swung toward the sound. Chief Payne stood in the doorway like an avenging angel, gun in hand. He pointed to her and motioned her over.
Prudence attempted to rise, but the hands restraining her didn’t move.
Another crack issued in the room and this time the man pinning her arms jerked back. One small, black hole appeared in his forehead. As she stared, a tendril of smoke rose from the hole and he fell to the ground. Ah, goddess be blessed, he was dead. Her stomach cramped and bile threatened to choke her. Chief Payne had killed him.
No. Chief Payne rescued me.
Dragging in a deep breath, she sat, glaring at the man holding her legs. He released her, raising his arms in surrender. Prudence slid off the table, staggering as she applied her full weight to her shaking limbs. Part of her wanted to run. To hide. Another demanded vengeance. The sickening knot in her belly roiled into a violent anger she’d never experienced before. Pulling herself to her full height, she took a step closer to the old codger who seemed to lead this pack of wolves. Her hands fisted.
“No.” Chief Payne shook his head and motioned to her again.
There was no give in his command, no doubt she would obey. She resented him—his confidence in his supremacy over her—despite the fact he had rescued her. Briefly, her eyes narrowed on the silver-toothed leader, but the moment of fierce anger had passed. Tremors returned with staggering force and she darted through the males, pausing once to grab her bag. And when she reached Chief Payne’s side, all she wanted to do was lean on him, seek comfort and reassurance.
Goddess preserve her, was she mad? He was a male, and as violent as the rest.
He didn’t spare her a glance, just jerked his head to the side, indicating she should leave. Would he kill them all? Prudence gave the men in the room one last, cursory glance before turning her back on them and walking outside.
When the cool, fresh air blew over her, the reality of what had almost happened hit. Tears poured down her cheeks. She doubled over and gagged. This was supposed to be her chance to be independent. For years, she’d dreamed of making her own way and growing stronger.
How stupid was she? Nothing was different here. She wasn’t different here.
She couldn’t take anymore. She wanted away from all of them. So she fled. She ran straight out of the filthy outpost and kept going until her legs wouldn’t carry her any farther.
*****
Griffin waited until the woman was outside before turning his attention to the men. He probably should have followed her out, but he needed information.
“Weapons aren’t allowed in city limits,” the big ugly one said. “She your woman?”
Griffin nodded once and despite what a pain-in-the-ass she was, realized he wasn’t wholly adverse to the idea. With an internal shake of his head, he braced himself for the pain speaking caused. “Is anyone else in this settlement?”
Big Ugly shook his head. “Just us.”
Relief washed through him. His brother wasn’t with these miscreants. With a little luck, Lucan had found somewhere safe, surrounded by others like him. “How far to the next town?” He swallowed a mouthful of blood, hoping to hell he didn’t look as shitty as he felt. Showing these assholes weakness would not be wise.
“Seen ships flying over, landing on the other side of the mountains. You’ll never make it. Your best bet is to stick around here with your woman.”
Yeah, and he’d bet a full day wouldn’t pass before he died in his sleep and she became the camp whore.
An older man with thick white hair, snorted. “No one survives outside town. The Scarecrows’ll pick you clean before you get far.”
Scarecrows? Hell, if his mouth didn’t throb so bad he’d ask what they were, but he didn’t have the capacity for chit-chat right now. They were talking in circles and he was pissed as hell he needed to repeat his question. “Where’s the closest town?”
Several of the men laughed. “Clear ’cross the desert out to the west, or past the mountains in the south.”
“What’s north and east?”
“Unexplored territory.”
Griffin eyed the men. He couldn’t tell if they spoke the truth or not. What the hell was he doing? Nothing these assholes had to say could be trusted. He motioned with the gun to the back of the room. “Over there.” Once they complied, he walked to the counter and hopped over. There wasn’t much by way of supplies, but he found a backpack with a blanket, a couple tools, night goggles, salt, and some fruit. He grabbed a bottle of liquor for good measure and stuffed it in the pack.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
On his way out, he paused long enough to lift one of the bar stools and slam it over the counter, breaking off a leg. He took the thick piece of wood with him. Backing out of the room, with the gun trained on the men, he pulled the door open, exited, slammed it shut and rammed the broken stool leg into the door handle. That chair leg wouldn’t hold them long, but it bought him some time.
Seconds later, the door rattled as the men tried to get through.
Griffin turned to grab the woman. She was gone. Only the deep, aching throb in his mouth kept him from cursing a blue-streak. He lifted both arms to the alien sky, silently asking whatever god might be up there, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The wind had picked up, creating little whirl-winds and rearranging the black sand. If he didn’t hurry, he’d have no chance in hell of finding her.
Behind him, someone rattled the door violently. The stool leg held in place. For now.
He scanned the ground, searching for footprints. He’d expected she’d return to the pod—the one familiar place on this planet—but he couldn’t find any sign she’d gone that direction. He circled all the way around before seeing her footprints. There. Due east. If those men had spoken the truth, she was headed straight into unexplored territory. Then again, they could’ve lied. He would’ve in their situation.
Griffin shouldered his stolen pack and ran into the desert.
Chapter 7
Someone was following her.
Prudence’s heart seemed to want to gallop right out of her chest via her throat. She pressed her back up against the sharp stone outcropping and went still.
Everything had gone silent. She heard no more footsteps, no heavy breathing.
The brisk wind swept over the desert floor, dragging the sand into an ever-changing landscape. Whirl-winds carried the black stuff into the air in miniature tornados.
She eased to the side and peered around the stone. Whatever she’d heard had gone. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the rocks. When she opened them a scant second later, she screamed.
Chief Payne had found her. With the quick grace of a predator, he grabbed her arm and clicked something around her wrist. A handcuff. The other end was already secured around his arm.
“No!” She wrested her hand away, inadvertently pulling him closer. “What are you doing? Why are—?”
His hand clamped down over her mouth. “Shut it, lady. Those friends of yours might come looking. So decide, them or me.”
She stared at him in dawning horror. After everything she’d gone through to escape Randolph Parnell, after barely avoiding being gang-raped, he was going to do the deed. He was no better than the rest of them.
He turned away, which yanked her arm forward and, as he crouched to sit with his back to her, she almost ended up with her face plastered against his backside. Something in her snapped and she shoved him. He did a face plant in the dirt, the cuffs linking them dragging her forward, too. She landed on top of his back, fisted her hands and punched his head and shoulders, kicking him as hard as she could.
With a swift, powerful roll he pinned her beneath him, his palm once again covering her mouth. She struggled. One of her hands ended up between them, but she punched and pushed at him with the other until with a curse he released her mouth and squished
her other hand between their bodies, too.
He glared down at her, speaking through clamped teeth. “Have I hurt you?”
“Yes! You’re hurting me now.”
“Before you attacked me, have I ever hurt you?”
Her mouth opened to scream yes, but his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing. She shook her head.
Griffin got up, dragging her with him. “Sit.” He motioned toward the rocks she’d huddled against earlier.
She did as he said, shaking so hard she wasn’t sure how she’d have the strength to fight him again. He wasn’t like the Parnells. He was larger and more muscular than even Randolph. And he wasn’t like that pack of ruffians, either—he was controlled, calm.
He sat on his haunches next to her. “Spread your legs.”
She gasped. “What?”
With a loud sigh, he grabbed her knees, thrust her legs apart and lay between them. Before she got past her shock enough to fight, he pressed his shoulders between her thighs and rested the back of his head on one. He held his hand up with some kind of tool in it. “Wire cutters.”
She looked down at him and he smiled—grimaced really—and she gasped again. His teeth were bloody and thin barbed wires crisscrossed over and between them.
“Okay?”
Okay? No, it wasn’t okay. No wonder he didn’t speak during the trial, he probably couldn’t. “You—” She shook her head. “You want me to cut them out?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Griffin reached up and undid the cuff from her wrist. She almost sighed in relief, but before she could, he had the cuff around her ankle, instead.
She glared.
He showed her the keys before tossing them several feet away. “Don’t. Hurt. Me.”
Prudence snatched the wire cutters. “I’m strong. I could drag your dead body that far.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up and he shook his head. “Weak.”
She bristled at the insult. The man could hardly speak, every word must be excruciating, yet he thought it was important enough to let her know he thought her weak. “And you’re stupidly brave to goad me when I could cause you unspeakable pain.”
His gaze shifted away and his throat rippled as he swallowed. Hard.
Master Chief Griffin Jude Payne was scared. Of her. That was a bit of a revelation. True, he appeared to be in a vulnerable position. But was he? She’d seen the way he moved, all coiled power behind easy movements until he chose to strike. Then he was quick as hell and twice as deadly. Back on the ship he’d taken down three Blue Helmets in less than a minute. He might not like being in this position, but she wasn’t stupid enough to assume him vulnerable.
Still, he hadn’t hurt her, not really, even though she must have caused him pain when she punched his face. “But I won’t.” She waited until his sea-green eyes searched hers. “Because I’m a better person than that.”
He spread his lips and she used her thumb to help push his full lower lip out of the way. The wires pulled tight against his teeth, the little barbs pointed out to do the maximum damage to inner lips and cheeks. She snipped the first wire, and groaned as the cutters slipped and gouged his gums. A bead of blood welled. She was doing more damage than good. “I’m so sorry.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t do this. I’m gonna hurt you.”
With his un-cuffed hand, he reached up and wiped her tears. “Worse if you don’t.”
Prudence sniffed and wiped the backs of her hands over her eyes. She could do this. If she wanted to be a pioneer on Asteria, she’d have to treat injuries from time to time. What were a few nicks in the face of split skin every time he tried to talk?
She moved to the next wire, but he caught her shaky hand in his. “Breathe.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. Huddling over her task, she was all too aware of her breast snuggled against his face as she maneuvered the cutters around the next wire. Her lips thinned as her nipples tightened and something deep in her stomach sprang to life. Her body was ridiculous. Here she was, a mouse with a wounded lion sprawled in her lap, waiting for her to make one wrong move so he could gobble her up.
This was not the time to be aroused.
She never got aroused.
*****
She sounded like she was in the throes of passion.
Griffin bent his knees, planting his feet flat on the ground to hide his budding erection. With each snip of the cutters, she moaned in sympathy. He could imagine a hundred different ways he wanted to make this gorgeous woman moan and not a damned one of them involved sympathy.
Christ, he must be in a bad way if his errant body responded to dental work.
“The front ones are loose. I need you to turn to the side.”
He held her gaze for a moment, willing her to understand how much he was trusting her. And how much she’d regret betraying him. Turning, he placed his cheek to the soft pad of her thigh. He could smell her, eucalyptus and musk. His cock jumped in anticipation.
She pulled his cheek back and the cutters, warmed by her hand, slipped toward his back teeth. Concentrate on that. The pain. The thought of freedom. Wanting this woman goes against everything you believe. She’s a Parnell, for Christ’s sake.
But there wasn’t much pain. She executed each cut with care, removed each wire gingerly to prevent further harm.
What is her name? He had researched the Parnells. He remembered her name had a double P-P. Parnell. And it sounded old fashion. Petunia? Paris? Portia?
“This one’s going to hurt. The wire is too tight; I’ll have to snip it up by the gum.”
He slipped his arm under her leg and flexed around her to keep himself from jerking away at a critical moment. Smooth metal scrapped his gums. The woman tensed. Snip. He relaxed with a sigh as she pulled out another piece of barbed wire and bent back to her work.
How long had it been since he’d been between a woman’s thighs? Since before his last tour, at least. He’d buried his parents on his last leave and that was what, two years ago, plus the six months travel time to Asteria? So, too long. That’s how long it’d been.
She stroked her hand down his face. “Other side.”
Griffin rolled over and wrapped his arms around her other leg the best he could while cuffed to her ankle. This was going to be a bitch. Once she made the last cut, she’d have to pull the big one out.
Jesus, the Parnells were sadistic bastards. He hated the lot of them. All of them? Yes, damn it. This one may be convenient and beautiful, but she was still a Parnell. He wouldn’t hurt her if she behaved, but he damn sure didn’t have to like her.
“You can make noise, you know.” She cut another wire and moaned. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He almost laughed. She’d hear him make some noise all right. Right after she finished with these external wires. When that last one came through his tongue, he had no doubt the pain would unman him. Parnell and his buddy Bronsen had taken great pleasure in reminding him he’d passed out when they pulled the damn thing through. Those barbs hurt like hell.
“Almost done.”
If only.
“There.” She started to tug on that last wire and he gripped her wrist to stop her. He took a moment to stretch his stiff jaw. The joint screamed in agony after not being used in the last nine months. After opening and closing his jaw a few times, he opened it as wide as he could and stuck out his tongue so she could see how the wire had been pierced through.
She stared into his mouth, her eyes reflecting the horror of what she saw. Her head started to shake from side to side and she reared back as if to flee. He lifted his hand to stop her.
When she met his gaze, he nodded once. “Oo at.” Great. He sounded like a drunk toddler.
Holding his tongue against his teeth, he parted them enough so she could pull the wire through. He made a jerking motion with his hand to show her he wanted her to rip it out fast.
“Chief Payne, I can’t.”
He nodded onc
e and lay his face in her lap, flexing his arms around her leg. He was done discussing the matter. It needed to be done and she’d better get on with it.
The wire tugged at his tongue a couple times as she wrapped one end around her finger. His heart hammered in his chest and sweat broke out on his brow.
“One.”
He wanted to tell her to get it over with already.
“Two.”
Christ, this was going to hurt.
“Three.”
*****
She screamed.
Griffin didn’t make a sound.
“Chief Payne?”
His grip on her leg would leave bruises. His face pressed into her jeans and a shudder ran through every tensed inch of him. For a heartbeat or two, he didn’t appear any tougher than a toddler, with his eyes screwed up tight and his whole body seeking some kind of feminine comfort. She dropped the wire cutters and wrapped her arms around him best she could. “It’s all over now. All done. You were very brave.”
When he released her leg and pushed back, she sat back to accept his gratitude.
He glared. He sat up, turned away and spit blood on the ground.
No more little boy, just a surly, testosterone-filled, badass now. When he tried to stand, she pulled the chain linking them together. “Come here. I have a med-wand.”
“’Ow ma’y?”
If he’d been difficult to understand before, now it was almost impossible. “Just the one, but that’s all you need.”
“’Eep it.”
“Goddess save me from prideful males. You need it. I don’t.” She pulled the thin silver wand out of her backpack. “Come here.”
He shook his head, and spit again. She glanced down at the bloody bit of wire she’d pulled out of him. Three jagged spurs jutted out at various angles. His tongue must be shredded.
The chain linking them tugged at her leg as he tried to stand. Tried being the operative word. He dropped back to his knees, his eyes rolled back and he slumped face-first in the sand. Men. At least he’d landed closer to the cuff key.
Prudence collected her bag, slipped the wire cutters inside one of the pockets, and set it next to Griffin. The little tool might come in handy again. She scooted past Griffin, careful not to tug on the chain linking them, to see how close she could get to the key.
The Last Marine Page 5
