by Becky Black
Parker nodded, gave another sigh, and looked at his watch. “I’d better go back to work.” He walked out, but stopped for a second in the doorway. “Thanks, Chief. I appreciate the reality check.” He left.
Raine dumped his full coffee cup on the carousel. He couldn’t face it. Hell, he didn’t deserve it. He strode out. The temperature in the corridor chilled his hands, but he left his gloves in his pocket. Stay cold. You do deserve that.
He was a total bastard, he decided as he walked back to his office. When he reached his office, the program tracking Kit was open on his screen, showing Kit still in the galley, where he should be. Raine turned the screen off. He didn’t need to see it. There’d be an alarm if Kit went anyplace he shouldn’t. There was no need to act like a damn obsessive lunatic and watch his every move.
* * *
The next morning Kit arrived in Raine’s office for his daily check-in a good ten minutes late. He had no good reason for this tardiness; he just knew it would annoy Raine. He’d come straight from the galley where they’d finished cleaning up after breakfast and still had his whites and his apron on. He never took the apron off when wearing his kitchen gear. He liked not looking as if he was wearing a sack.
“You’re late,” Raine said as Kit walked in.
“So dock my pay. Let’s get on with it.”
“Don’t use that tone with me, please.”
“I’ll use any tone with you I like. What are you going to do about it?”
Raine raised his eyebrows, surprise taking over from the irritation on his face. He smiled. “Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
Kit wasn’t conciliated by the smile. He’d been hoping to spend the night not in the bunk room but in an officer’s quarters. But when he’d gone to Parker’s cabin, he hadn’t even gotten past the door.
Parker had opened it only partway and looked awkward when he saw Kit. Kit had made an effort. Showered, shaved again, changed into the best-fitting of his borrowed clothes, and his hair looked damn good. But his smile had frozen in place when Parker said he was sorry, but it wasn’t such a good idea for Kit to be there after all.
“You seemed to think it was a good idea this afternoon.”
“Sorry,” Parker had said and closed the door.
Kit had stared at it. He rarely saw a closed door from the wrong side. Most men were extremely happy when he showed up with his sexy grin, ready to show them a good time. What the hell could have changed Parker’s mind?
“You were in officer country from 2238 until 2322,” Raine said, bringing Kit’s attention back to him. “What were you doing there?”
He could only tell what section Kit had been in, Kit knew. The tracking data wasn’t fine-grained enough to show an individual cabin, and there were no cameras in that corridor. So for all Raine knew, Kit might have been in Parker’s cabin for nearly forty-five minutes. And Raine wanted to know, because a lot could happen in forty-five minutes.
Kit hadn’t realized he’d hung out up there so long after seeing the wrong side of Parker’s door. There was a tall, narrow port at the end of the corridor and he’d found himself drawn to it. He’d stood there gazing out at the stars for some time, trying to figure out why Parker had turned him away. Had Raine warned him off after seeing them flirting in the mess hall?
He wanted Kit himself, so why didn’t he say so? Did he think it would be inappropriate? He surely couldn’t be disciplined enough to ignore the instructions his cock gave him—Fuck this guy right now! In Kit’s experience, such men did not exist.
“What were you doing there?” Raine repeated.
“Visiting someone.” He watched for the reaction, quite gratified to see the little wince.
“Who?”
“None of your business.”
“It is my business.”
“You’ll have to beat it out of me, then.”
Provocation again. And the reaction he wanted. Raine stood and came around the desk. He had gloves on again. Did he have poor circulation or something?
“Why do you wear those gloves?”
“What?” Raine stopped and looked down at his hands, apparently disconcerted by the change in subject. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Is it a style thing?”
“No.” Raine went and sat down again. “I come from Ryesh. It’s a very hot place.”
Hot and dull, from what Kit had heard. A colony that had never delivered on early promise and, as others prospered, became a backwater, with a sparse and scattered population scraping a living in near-desert conditions.
“So that’s why you wear a jacket and cap all the time too?” Kit asked. “Other people only wear those if they’re going down in the cargo holds. It’s pretty cold down there.”
“You’re very observant,” Raine said, leaning back in his chair.
“The devil’s in the details.”
“If you weren’t a criminal, I’d suggest you’d make a good cop.”
“Hah!” But Kit couldn’t help smiling about it. Him a cop? Unlikely.
“So are you going to tell me who you were visiting?”
Kit frowned at the question. Damn.
“No, I hadn’t forgotten,” Raine said, a smug look on his face. “I’m learning about you and your distraction techniques.”
“I did give you an advanced lesson in that elevator.”
The smug look disappeared. “And that’s all it was?” Then he flushed and scowled. “Of course it was. Don’t try to convince me of anything else.”
“Wasn’t going to. It worked, didn’t it?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Which means it will work again in the future.”
“I don’t think so.”
“We’ll see. I’ll pick my moment.” He winced as he moved his arm. He’d strained it earlier lifting a heavy bucket of water.
“Something wrong?”
“Just a bit stiff and sore. You know how it is when you do something strenuous you haven’t done in a while.”
Raine’s face darkened then. Until now Kit had never fully appreciated the expression “a face like thunder.” He expected bolts of lightning to flash from Raine’s eyes.
Nice.
“I think I’ll go take a nice long steam in the sauna,” Kit said. “Few hours until I’m back on—”
“You do that,” Raine snapped. “Tomorrow, you’d better report on time. Get out.”
Kit left, deciding he’d be twenty minutes late tomorrow.
* * *
For the next three days, Katherine Warner gave Kit his check-in session. By the third, Kit was certain Raine was avoiding him. Interesting.
“And you’ve just been down in the infirmary?” Warner said, finishing up the last of his movements. From the seat she’d let him sit in, Kit stuck his foot up in the air.
“Follow-up appointment for the ankle.”
“Fully recovered, then?”
“Whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”
“Good attitude. Okay, you can go.”
“Thanks,” he said, jumping up and offering her a jokey salute, making her roll her eyes. “Don’t you be watching my ass on the security monitors.”
“Buzz off, Kit.”
He buzzed, hurrying down to the galley, where they’d be starting lunch prep soon. He’d kept his cool while talking to Warner, but sweat had been beading on his back while they talked. As if she might suddenly demand to search him. And then she’d find what he had in his pocket.
“Hello, handsome,” Gracie said as he came in. “Was it Warner again today?”
“Chief Stick-up-the-ass is clearly avoiding me. I guess my sexiness is burning out his retinas.”
“Is Warner okay with you? She’s kind of scary.”
“Katie? She’s a pussycat.”
“Yeah, like a lioness is a pussycat. Okay, we need to get some supplies from the container and empty the dishwashers from breakfast.”
“Let’s split it,” Kit said, picking up t
he printout of required supplies. “I’ll go grab these; you empty the washers.”
“Great. See you back here.”
She opened one of the washers and vanished in a cloud of steam, while Kit took the utility cart they used to fetch supplies and set off for the food-storage container.
In the container, he used the elevator platforms to get to the lower level. He found a couple of the items on the list, then left the cart and headed for a row of large storage crates. These were all red, unlike the blue that designated supplies for the Light of Dawn. Gracie had told him one day down here that those were some supplies they were dropping off at the space station on the edge of the asteroid field—only a few days away.
The station where Kit would have his chance.
He popped the lid off a crate, which was half-empty. Kit had done some strategic redistribution of its contents. In one corner sat a neat stash of items. Clothes and food of the “iron rations” type. He’d been careful, bringing in an item at a time, in his pockets, or a piece of clothing worn unnoticed under his baggy kitchen togs, stripping it off and hiding it with the rest. The tricky part was going to be to get a bag of some kind down here to hold it all. But maybe he could lay his hands on one of those duffel bags, the ones like a big-ass sausage skin with a drawstring on the end. He could wrap that around his body, and as long as nobody looked too close, he’d get away with fetching it down here.
He still had to figure out a way to get some working cash and once again wondered where Raine had put his confiscated money. He’d need fake identify documents for working or traveling, and he’d need cash to get hold of them. Well, he’d figure it out. He always did in the end. But getting off this ship was the first step.
From his pocket, he slipped the laser scalpel he’d filched from the infirmary earlier and put it with the rest of the stash. Perhaps he could sell that on the station. He hadn’t intended to take it with him; he needed it for only one job and would have left it behind. But it was possible someone would pay him cash for it.
It felt good to get it out of his pocket. It weighed a couple of hundred grams at most, and yet it had felt like carrying a boulder. At every step, he expected Raine to jump out in front of him and demand to search his pockets. Though Raine searching his pockets had been quite enjoyable the last time. He smiled at the memory. Most distracting.
Replacing the lid of the crate, he headed back to his cart to finish getting the rest of the galley supplies.
The plan was coming together.
Chapter Five
“So today’s the big day,” Gracie said as Kit arrived for breakfast duty. He started guiltily.
“What?” How the hell could she know?
“The ore take-on. Believe me, everything changes from here on out.”
“Oh.” He hid his sigh of relief as he pulled on an apron. “But we don’t have anything to do with those guys once they’re aboard, do we?”
“No, but the ship is different when they’re aboard. It’s hard to explain.” She grabbed a stack of plates. “Grab that tray of cups, will you?”
Kit finished tying the apron and grabbed the big tray of white mugs, all sparkling from the washer, and followed her to put them on the serving counter. The aroma of bacon wafted from the kitchen.
“You look tired,” Gracie said.
“Didn’t sleep well last night.” He hadn’t, worrying about today. Worrying he’d forgotten something. He’d made a list—on paper, not in his Link in case Raine went poking around. He’d checked and double-checked it. Everything was in place. He’d be off the ship by lunchtime.
“Get some coffee in you,” she advised. “It will be a long busy day. In fact, about three long busy days in a row.”
“Good idea.” He took two of the mugs from the tray and headed to the coffee urns. “So these ore workers. Fun guys? Like to party?”
“Too much. We stay away from them. They’re kind of rough, most of them. Not exactly polite to women. They aren’t allowed anywhere in the crew sections, but there’re always some who’ll try it. Then there’s the pilfering.”
“Pilfering?”
“Their food isn’t as good as ours. They get plenty of it but nothing exciting. So sometimes they’ll sneak into our food container and swipe stuff.”
“Cheeky,” he said, handing her a mug.
“Keep away from them, I’m telling you.”
I plan to. Kit’s Link beeped in his pocket, and he slipped it out.
“Love letter?” Gracie asked.
“Yes. The captain is proposing marriage to me.”
She giggled. Damn, he’d miss Gracie. And he couldn’t even say good-bye to her.
“It’s from Raine.”
“Oh, so it is a love letter.”
“He says they’re all much too busy in Security today to waste their precious time on asking me about all the exciting stuff I did yesterday, so I don’t have to check in this morning.”
“That’s pretty much an ‘I love you’ from the chief.”
“I consider us engaged.” He slipped the Link back into his pocket. So he wouldn’t get to say good-bye to Raine either. Shame. He’d have liked to see the big lug again before he left. Knowing that Raine and his people were supervising the loading and unloading of cargo crates and covering all the exits worried Kit. They might foil his plan. The squad was good—he had to give Raine kudos for training his people well—so Kit had to get his timing right.
“Once breakfast cleanup is over, I’ll head straight down to pick up the supplies,” he said.
“Want me to come with?”
“I can manage. Gracie…thanks.” He smiled at her when she looked at him questioningly. “Just kind of realized I hadn’t said it, but you’ve been really good to me since I arrived. It’s been fun working with you.”
She smiled and looked away. “Oh, look at me; you’re making me blush. Come on,” she said as a couple of people came into the dining room. “Back to work.”
* * *
Raine dropped into his office later that morning to check a couple of things and grab a coffee. He sank into his chair with a sigh. This day was already too long. This time spent docked at the station while they collected the ore containers and the workers was always the busiest part of the whole trip. After they left, things usually settled back into a routine, though certainly a busier one than they’d had so far. Kit’s appearance had been the most excitement they’d had during the first leg of the trip in a long time.
Where was Kit now? He checked the tracker program. Down in the storage containers. Raine glanced at the time. About right. On days he collected supplies, he went down there after breakfast cleanup.
He closed the program. Finally he’d started to gain some control over his ridiculous physical reaction to Kit—mostly by not seeing him. He’d let Warner handle the check-in interviews for the last few days, and his life had been more tranquil for it. He didn’t have to spend an hour getting his emotions back under control after Kit left.
He’d do his best to keep on avoiding him for the rest of the voyage. They’d run into each other sometimes, but he could avoid being alone with him in this office. Even with the door open, Kit seemed to fill and dominate the intimate space. How, exactly, Raine didn’t know. He took up less space than Raine. It must be the scent of him, calling to Raine on some unconscious level. And there was the constant provocation. Yes, that could fill the room too, fighting for space with Raine’s mixed-up anger and desire.
Did they even need the check-ins anymore? Kit was following the rules. He hadn’t gone anywhere off-limits. Yes, they could probably discontinue the check-ins. He could spring a spot-check on him every so often, and obviously, if anything suspicious showed up, he’d question Kit.
But it appeared he could be trusted. Maybe there had been some kind of mistake or frame-up as he claimed. There could be a perfectly good explanation, even for the money they’d found in Kit’s hiding place. If Kit was innocent and he came to trust the crew of the D
awn, he might open up about what happened. If he was being railroaded, they could help him. The captain would do her best for him if he kept on being a good crew member. She rewarded hard work and loyalty. Even so, Raine should stay away from Kit—for the sake of his peace of mind.
Okay, he thought, glancing at the clock, coffee break over. Back to work. He stood up, dumped his mug by the door to take back to the galley later, and then hesitated. It might be better to take it when he knew Kit was still down in the storage container and they wouldn’t run into each other.
An alarm sounded from both his terminal and his Link. He grabbed the Link from his pocket, knowing the alarm, denying it in his mind, wanting to be wrong. He wasn’t.
The computer had lost the signal from Kit’s tracker.
* * *
It took Raine six minutes to get from his office to the place they last had a signal from the tracker. Raine had frozen in his office doorway for a few seconds, waiting, hoping. Sometimes the signal dropped out for a couple of seconds if Kit passed too close to something that could block or interfere with it. But this time it hadn’t reappeared, and Raine had broken out of his freeze and run.
He might be panicking about nothing. It could have malfunctioned, even broken down entirely. Or it had been destroyed. By Kit or by something happening to Kit. That last part occurred to him as he left the elevator on the floor giving access to the containers, and it spurred him into a sprint. There could have been an accident. The containers held heavy crates, some stacked high. They were supposed to be secure, but things broke free.
He felt sick.
But he found no evidence of a horrible accident when he reached the location. Just crates and the cart Kit and Gracie used to carry supplies. It held a full load of boxes and packets.
“Miller!” Raine called, his voice echoing in the cavernous interior of the container. “Can you hear me?”
No answer. No sound of anyone close by moving around. He checked the nearest aisles of crates, but he knew he couldn’t cover this place alone. What if Kit lay hurt and unable to respond?
