Stowaway

by Becky Black

  Without a word, Kit swept everything from his shelves or lying on the bunk into a drawer. He dropped the hairbrush in too. A twitch straightened up the bedclothes by a minimal amount. It certainly wouldn’t pass any actual inspection, and Raine frowned at it and appeared to be about to say something. But he stopped when Kit gave a slapdash and mocking salute before marching out of the room.

  The door closing cut off the tense silence he left behind him. Shit, that had been tantamount to making an announcement. Everyone on the damn ship would soon know Kit and Raine were broken up. So he’d better go tell Gracie before she heard it from someone else.

  Not a good idea to give her a reason to kill him harder.

  * * *

  Raine could hear them. He felt sure of it. Just as he felt sure he couldn’t hear them. Parker’s cabin was several doors away from Raine’s. No matter how good Raine’s ears were, he couldn’t hear Parker and Kit fucking in there.

  But he knew. After Kit had so openly challenged his authority in the bunk room, Raine suddenly couldn’t stop himself checking the tracker data. Over and over, he’d checked it all day. So he knew.

  The lack of control made him feel like a massive jerk, even a pervert, lying here in the dark, imagining Kit and Parker together. Again and again, he told himself he had no right to be jealous, no right to complain about Kit seeing someone else—he’d initiated the breakup, after all. He had no right to lie here boiling with jealousy.

  This is nuts, he thought, eyes wide open, bed covers thrown off, his usual room temperature feeling too hot tonight. Not being with Kit had started making him as crazy as being with Kit had.

  He found his Link in the darkness by feel, and its glow dazzled him when he turned it on. The time was 0048. Again, he couldn’t stop himself. He tapped through to the live tracker data. Kit was indeed still in officer country.

  Raine watched for a while. After a few minutes, he decided to turn it off and try again to sleep, when the blue dot on screen began to move. It wasn’t a smooth movement, rather an updating every few seconds. And it had a short delay, so by the time he was seeing Kit leaving, he was probably close to the security bunk room. He hadn’t spent a whole night at Parker’s so far. Hadn’t “moved in” the way he’d come close to doing with Raine, until Raine had come to his senses.

  Good joke. He felt more out of control than ever.

  If he had come to his senses, he’d be sleeping peacefully, not watching a blue dot and picturing Kit slipping through the quiet corridors, arriving in the bunk room and undressing for bed. He’d tie his hair back out of the way in a long tail down his back. Raine had never tired of stroking his hands through Kit’s hair.

  If he’d come to his senses, he certainly wouldn’t get up, don some sweat pants and a T-shirt, and walk on bare feet to Parker’s door and lean on the buzzer.

  Parker appeared at the door, wearing a long bathrobe and a grumpy, half-asleep frown.

  “What the hell? Do you know it’s the middle of the night?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Not at this time we don’t. Are you crazy?”

  “Now.” He didn’t threaten, but he made it clear he wasn’t leaving. After a moment, Parker sighed and stepped back, letting Raine in. Perhaps he didn’t want a scene in the corridor. Raine shouldn’t want one either, but he had to say his piece. Goose bumps rose on his arms and shoulders, the room much too cold, especially for his feet, even on the carpet. He ignored it.

  The rumpled sheets of the bed Kit had so recently quit enraged Raine, and he fought to maintain his control. He hadn’t come here to assault Parker.

  “Spit it out, for God’s sake,” Parker said. “I want to get some sleep.”

  “You have to stop seeing Kit.”

  “Oh, do I?”

  “I’m saying this as the security chief.” Parker snorted, but Raine went on. “He intends to escape after the Taylor hearing, and he’s trying to recruit you to help him.”

  “You know, you’d think you’d at least try a different story this time. I’m not falling for that again. You wanted him for yourself the first time you said this, and nothing has changed.” He poured himself a glass of water and drank it all. “It won’t work, Chief. Even if I stopped seeing him, he won’t go back to you. You screwed up. He’d never take you back.”

  “If he thinks he could persuade me to help him escape, then he’d take me back.”

  “Lovely sentiment. You certainly have a low opinion of someone you’re supposedly in love with.”

  “I’m not in love with him!” His shout made Parker flinch ever so slightly, and Raine stepped back, increasing the distance between them, ashamed of even an implied threat to a fellow officer.

  “So I guess you were using him, then.”

  “And you aren’t? You moved pretty fast to get him into your cabin after I split up with him.”

  “That’s none of your business. And I haven’t made him any promises. I don’t know what his plans are when we get to Saira, but I haven’t told him I’ll help him escape. And I haven’t told him I love him, because I’m not a liar.”

  Raine left, unable to stay another second—otherwise he’d have knocked Parker out and then gone and thrown himself in the brig. Parker must have been watching him, because Raine didn’t hear the door close right away. But he resisted the temptation to look back and in a second heard the sound of the door swishing closed.

  It took him three attempts to enter his door code correctly, between his whirling brain and his shaking hands. Inside, he dropped onto his bunk in the dark and groaned. He’d have to request a transfer when they got to Saira. He couldn’t be around Parker any more. Couldn’t trust himself. Parker had every right to make a complaint to the captain about Raine going to his cabin at an ungodly hour and threatening him over sexual rivalry. It didn’t get any more unprofessional.

  Still cold from Parker’s cabin and the corridor and from the drying sweat of his surging, wasted rage, he wrapped himself tight in his blankets and wondered if he could be losing his mind. Love screwed with your head. But he couldn’t be in love with Kit, or he’d have defied even the captain for him. That’s what the stories said; with your lover at your side, you had the strength to defy the whole world, and nothing could make you part willingly.

  Nothing. Not even an order from your commanding officer.

  She hadn’t ordered him to break up with Kit, though. But he’d seen his duty plainly and chosen it over Kit. Which proved it wasn’t love, because love conquered all, made you abandon all you held dear if you had to. Raine hadn’t abandoned his duty or his honor for Kit, which logically meant he didn’t love Kit.

  Logic couldn’t keep him from wanting to pound his head into the wall.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “The chief came to see me last night.”

  Kit raised his head from its comfortable spot on Parker’s shoulder.

  “What? When?”

  “After you left. I say last night, it was this morning. Just after one. What an asshole.”

  Kit laid his head down again and sighed. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to put up with his crap.”

  “Not your fault.” Parker pulled him closer, naked bodies pressed together, no problems of one of them being too hot or too cold.

  “What did he say?”

  “Told me I should break up with you because you’re only using me. Same as before. I guess I can understand how much he regrets letting you get away.”

  Kit smiled at the flattery and trailed his fingers along Parker’s collarbones, raising goose bumps. But the smile hid a bitter taste in his mouth. Parker didn’t believe Raine; he chose to trust Kit. But he didn’t understand Kit the way Raine did. Kit had only come to him for help escaping. Done what he always did—found a more powerful and influential man than himself who could help his cause. Raine knew it. The bastard.

  Bastard? Kit was a bigger one. Where Raine acted out of crazy jealousy, Kit stayed cold and rational, acting out of pure s
elf-interest.

  Yet Parker trusted him.

  He sat up in bed, pulling out of Parker’s arms. It wasn’t enough. Parker touched his back gently, and Kit at once scrambled off the bed to get away from the touch.

  “What’s wrong?” Parker asked.

  “I have to go.” Kit gathered up his clothes from the floor and began dressing quickly.

  “What? Why?” Parker leaned up on one elbow. “It’s early, not even 2300. You can stay the night if you want.”

  God, no. He couldn’t lie in Parker’s arms all night like a lover. They were not lovers.

  “I have to go,” Kit repeated. He picked up his shoes. “I won’t be back. I’m sorry. This isn’t working out.”

  Parker sat up, swung his legs out of the bed. “What are you talking about? Not working how?”

  “Sorry.” Kit didn’t put the shoes on. No time to spare. Had to end this before it became a horrible scene. “Don’t ask why. Just be glad.”

  “Glad?”

  “Yes. Good-bye.”

  He ran out the door, still carrying his shoes. The metal deck chilled his bare feet, but he didn’t stop to put on his shoes. If Parker wanted to come after Kit, he’d have to put some clothes on first, so Kit made the most of the few minutes he had. He reached the elevator without hearing anyone coming after him.

  The elevator arrived, and he stepped in. It awaited his command. Where now? The thought of slinking back to his bunk so early and suffering the curious glances of his bunkmates dismayed him.

  He set the elevator to take him to the observation deck.

  * * *

  Raine tried listening to music to block out the sounds he couldn’t hear, but it didn’t help. He kept thinking he could just detect the sounds of Kit and Parker, and if he lowered the volume, their voices—moans, cries of pleasure—would suddenly be loud and clear.

  So he couldn’t stay in his cabin. Nor his office, not all night when he wasn’t on duty. The nightshift kept looking at him funny. Instead he found himself having a late session pounding the treadmill in the blessedly empty gym. Perhaps he could wear himself out, and exhaustion would let him sleep.

  But he couldn’t leave his Link behind—he had to be contactable—and the Link had access to the tracker data. Which meant he got to torture himself by looking at the blue dot in officer country. In Parker’s cabin.

  When it started to move, Raine slowed the treadmill to walking pace and picked up the Link. He glanced at the time. Barely 2300. Earlier than Kit had left before. He watched the Link, trying not to picture Kit instead of the blue dot. A blue dot didn’t have narrow hips, long legs, glossy hair, and a gorgeous ass. Its movement was a jerky blink, not the confident grace of the man it represented. It couldn’t give Raine a smile full of mischief and invitation.

  Not picturing Kit wasn’t going well.

  The dot blinked on past the bunk rooms and moved on forward, then up a deck. The observation deck. Raine couldn’t help but picture Kit under the starlight. He put the Link down and upped the treadmill’s speed. He’d been checking only for the sake of security, he told himself. Doing his job keeping an eye on their stowaway. Call it a spot check. He smiled. A dot check. Kit was on the observation deck, a section he was allowed to be in, so while he stayed there, Raine had no more reason for concern. He glanced at the Link several times. Kit remained on the obs deck.

  When Raine finally had enough of running, he showered, dried off, then checked the Link one more time, one last time, he swore to himself. The dot was still on the observation deck. Nearly forty-five minutes. He put it down again and picked up his clothes.

  Once dressed, he picked up the Link again. He should put it in his pocket. He shouldn’t look. He looked. The blue dot hadn’t moved. Raine pictured Kit’s gray eyes, dark in the dimness of the obs deck but glinting with the reflected light of the stars.

  He was going up there. He didn’t even have to decide. His feet simply carried him there when he left the gym. But they faltered when he approached the entrance.

  What if Kit wasn’t alone?

  It should have occurred to him before. He’d seen the dot and pictured Kit there by himself. But there could be twenty people with him. He could be throwing a party and there’d still only be the one blue dot.

  Twenty people or just one. Parker. Gazing at the stars together, kissing, perhaps in the alcove where Raine and Kit had been so…indiscreet.

  Raine almost turned around and walked away again, the picture in his mind making him too unspeakably angry to risk going in there. If he found Parker and Kit even kissing, he feared he’d lose control and do something appalling.

  But he took a breath, suppressed the picture of himself punching Parker in the face, and walked slowly to the entrance. It had no door to disturb the peaceful haven inside, only a couple of turns to shield the dark obs deck from the lighted corridor. No noise, so the hypothetical party probably wasn’t going on. Raine strained his ears for any other sounds, of the variety two people alone together might make. He heard none.

  He rounded the corner that would take him into the dark space and paused to let his eyes adjust. Someone sat there on a padded bench in the center of the room. The long hair loose down his back told Raine it was Kit. He was about to step inside and speak when he noticed Kit’s position. Knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, head down. His shoulders shook. This close, Raine could hear the sound of quiet sobs.

  He froze. If he could split in two, one half of him would be there in an instant, holding Kit, telling him he would stop the pain and nothing would hurt Kit again without coming through Raine first. The other half would be walking away fast, feeling like an intruder on private anguish. He’d thrown away his right to offer Kit comfort. He could only embarrass and humiliate him by going in there.

  For a few seconds, the two halves cancelled each other out, gluing him to the spot. But the reluctant intruder won. He turned away and walked out silently, hoping Kit hadn’t noticed him.

  He got as far as the elevator and had even pressed the call button when the other half made a counter attack. Go to him! it ordered. He needs you! Raine’s pride had caused this. Made them both miserable. Humiliated at falling below his personal high standards, he’d overreacted when the captain reminded him to be discreet. She hadn’t told him to break up with Kit, yet every day since then, a part of his mind had been trying to convince him she had. So he could blame her and justify his hasty and cruel actions.

  Go to him.

  Raine fought the compulsion. He couldn’t stand this lack of control. He couldn’t stand feeling as if he had no say over where his feet carried him, which elevator button he pressed. Couldn’t stand the constant urge to check the tracker data. This had gone way beyond unprofessional to pathological. Dishonorable.

  He realized the elevator door stood open in front of him, the empty car waiting for him. Perhaps the same car where he’d first met Kit. And first lost control of himself. He was no stronger now. Weaker, in fact.

  As Raine turned to walk back to the observation deck, the elevator door closed on an empty car, its journey wasted.

  * * *

  Kit scrubbed his sleeve across his eyes and face when he heard someone come in. He expected it to be Parker but instead saw a bulkier shape in the shadows by the door. Parker couldn’t know where Kit was, but Raine always knew.

  “Having you stalking me all over the ship with this fucking tracker is totally creepy.” He turned his gaze straight ahead, not wanting Raine to see his red and sore eyes. Couldn’t let him think he had the power to make Kit break down.

  “I’m sorry,” Raine said quietly. “It’s unprofessional of me to use the data for personal reasons.”

  “Try to sound a bit less like you’re reading from a manual, would you?”

  Silence. Raine didn’t move any farther into the room. Kit held out his left arm with the tracker on it.

  “Why don’t you take it off me?” He made it a challenge. “Deal with reality. Deal with
not knowing where I am every minute of the day.”

  “You know I can’t. Captain’s orders.”

  Kit shook his head. If Raine recommended it, the captain would probably agree to the removal.

  “I wish I could,” Raine went on. “Then I could stop acting so badly.”

  “Fat chance. I’m sure you’d figure out some other way to be an asshole.”

  Raine moved, and Kit glanced back, fearing he’d angered him, but when he stepped into the light, Kit saw only anguish on his face. He stopped before he reached the bench, but his approach made Kit wrap his arms around his knees again, folding himself up into the smallest space he could.

  “I want to stop,” Raine said, his voice coming out strangled. “I know I’m acting badly, but I can’t make myself stop. I hate feeling this way; I hate being so out of control.”

  “Going to blame me for that again?”

  “No, it’s not your fault. It’s me. I sometimes think I’m losing my mind. I never acted like this before, never felt like this. Am I obsessed? Am I going crazy?”

  “You’re in love, you dick.”

  “If this is what love does to a man, I don’t know why anyone would want it.”

  “Love isn’t the problem. You’re the problem. You’re so used to being in control, you can’t deal with it when you feel something too strong to repress.”

  Silence once again from Raine. After a moment, he spoke.

  “Since when did you become my psychiatrist?”

  “Hah! You need one.”

  “But definitely not you.”

  “Worried I’d be ‘unprofessional’?”

  “That’s a given.” The tone was teasing, and Kit wanted to turn around and smile. But he resisted. No. Do not be drawn back into their banter. Parker didn’t deserve to be used and neither did Raine. Kit was on his own. Best way. He could rely on himself, trust himself. Anyone else would let him down in the end. Or want something he couldn’t give. Even Parker would change in the end and look for more than sex. And Raine?