Steel Coyote

by Beth Williamson

  Remy thought about what her father would say, how he would handle the threat. Gunnar was a tough son of a bitch, never took shit from anyone. She slid the gun from its holster and held it at her side. Cooper’s gaze slid to the weapon then back to her face.

  “I’m a captain of honor, and I give you my word we’ll get to Haverty on time with the cargo intact.” She leaned in closer, no matter if the man made her skin crawl. “If you fuck me over, Cooper, there won’t be a hole you can hide in.”

  The big man nodded once and then walked away, the ramp vibrating with his heavy steps. “Fourteen days.”

  Remy reached for the lever to close the ramp and Fletcher stopped her. She growled. She’d never felt so out of control, and she hated it.

  “Let him walk away and see you standing here on your ship.”

  “We’ve only got fourteen days, and it’s going to take two hours to fuel up. I’ve got to get Katie working and I need to get supplies.” She holstered the gun and reached for the lever again.

  “Wait. Just wait a few more seconds.” His hand was warm on her wrist, hard and strong.

  To her surprise, Cooper turned around and nodded once more. She didn’t know why, but she took it as a sign of respect, however twisted that was. He lumbered onto the dock with his posse of walking mounds of meat then out of view.

  This time when she reached for the lever, Max didn’t stop her. In fact, he stepped back and a gusty sigh burst from his mouth as the ramp closed.

  “That could have gone worse.”

  She scowled at him. “It could have gone better. I should have been the one to make the deal.”

  “Do you think you would have gotten the twenty thousand?” One ebony brow quirked up again.

  “No, damn you, I wouldn’t.” She ground her teeth in frustration. “But if you ever get in my way again during a deal, I’ll shoot you.”

  “You keep saying that. I don’t think you’ll shoot anyone.”

  Remy narrowed her gaze. “Keep pushing, Fletcher, and you’ll find out.”

  He smiled that gorgeous, heart-stopping grin. Her traitorous pulse pounded through her veins at the sight. “We’ve got at least two weeks to find out, don’t we? If you get your transaction pad, you can have your money now.” He held up his wrist. “I don’t like being responsible for this many credits.”

  “I can’t.” Remy hated to reveal anything so she settled on a half truth. The man had her money. “It broke six months back. Foley tried to fix it but he only made it worse. I haven’t had the credits to fix it proper or get another one.”

  “Don’t they sell them on Station Twenty?”

  “Not anything that works. Mostly people selling broken-down shit for too high a price.” She couldn’t be more frustrated. Or surprised. He’d offered to simply give her the money, while she’d expected him to lord it over her. She didn’t know what to make of that gesture.

  “You mean I have to be responsible for your money?” He sounded bewildered.

  “Yes.” Her voice and throat were tight. She didn’t have to tell him they were now joined at the hip. Not only did he have her money, but his handprint would unlock the rest of it. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t have a chip in her wrist and that Katie usually handled payments.

  To her knowledge, she was the only one in the quadrant without a chip. The Corporation chipped infants after birth, even those born on farms on small moons. Gunnar had told her to never tell anyone. Her existence wasn’t catalogued or tracked.

  Remy was a living ghost.

  Regardless of her secret, without a transaction pad, they couldn’t transfer the funds from Max to Katie.

  “I, uh, didn’t expect that. Well, I suppose we ought to fuel up and get supplies.” He held up his wrist and waggled his fingers. “It’s on me.”

  She threw up her hands and made herself walk away in search of Katie. She was done talking to the man. He made her feel off-balance and not just because of her attraction to him. He was wheedling his way into her life, and she didn’t like it.

  They needed to leave Station Twenty to hit the fourteen-day deadline to Haverty. There wasn’t a moment to waste.

  Chapter Three

  Max knew as soon as he heard their destination he was in for trouble. Of all places to be headed, Haverty was a nightmare. He had no choice now, considering Cooper had put all of Remy’s money on his chip and then used his palm to lock the rest of the money down.

  Son of a bitch.

  While Katie took care of refueling, Max left the ship with Remy to get the supplies they needed. He damn sure didn’t want to be in a position to control her funds. It made him itchy, and he wanted to be rid of that responsibility.

  How could she not have a transaction pad? Everyone in the quadrant had one if they wanted to do business off-world. Only folks who lived on the planets or moons, those who spent their days with their fingers in the dirt, didn’t have one. No wonder she had to resort to taking shady cargo from people like Cooper.

  He wanted this money off his chip. The sooner the better.

  “Have you ever flown an Emerson class before?” She spoke under her breath as they walked through the madness of the main shopping district in the station. It was a mixture of canned pickles, blacksmiths, gunsmiths, and freeze-dried meals. Men on horses ambled past to be followed by others on hovercrafts. The smells and sounds had always intrigued Max. As a boy who’d grown up on a remote moon, hustle and bustle always drew him in. Today, however, his gut was tight with tension.

  “Of course,” he lied smoothly. “Half a dozen times.”

  She snorted. “Why do I not believe you?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been nothing but trustworthy. I haven’t even spent one credit.”

  “If you do, I’ll cut off your hand and keep it in a jar.”

  This time he laughed. She was so gruff and ballsy. It was damn attractive, something he didn’t need to think about, considering how enamored he was with her physically. When her eyes sparked fire and her face flushed, he was a goner. Max had fallen prey to his own foolish attraction to females, well, a lot. He’d lost good jobs because of it, nearly lost his dick once. It was only through his wit that he escaped with all his limbs intact.

  Generally, he was the charming rogue, not the knight in shining armor for a damsel in distress. It was a new role for him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t play it. Remy drew him in. Beyond the ridiculousness of the situation in which he was knotted, he wanted to know her, to be a part of the ragtag family she’d created on the Steel Coyote. Why, he couldn’t even begin to guess. Saint would have an opinion and would no doubt express it.

  “What’s your story, Fletcher?” Remy broke the silence.

  He shrugged. “I’m a pilot, and I take jobs to make money so I can eat.”

  She snorted. “As if I believe that’s all of it. Where are you from? Where are your people?”

  “I’m from nowhere and I have no people.” He wasn’t ready yet to tell her anything about where he was from.

  “Interesting. Was Cooper right about you? Do you fuck at an epic scale?”

  It was his turn to laugh. He wasn’t the Lothario in the reputation that followed him around, but he was no innocent, either. “Rumors are stories that get twisted the more they get told. Was Cooper right about you?”

  She sucked in a breath. “Touché. I don’t think I like you.”

  “Too bad. I’ve already decided to like you.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “Perhaps, but we’ll finish this job.”

  “If we don’t, I’ll have to shoot you.”

  “You’ll have to catch me first.”

  A strangled sound came from her throat. “I’m going to find out who you really are, Max Fletcher. I promise you that.”

  Memories of Haverty crowded him. He pushed them back with effort, although one pulsed through his mind. The people who lived on that moon were the poorest of the poor, people who literally had nothing. If he was going back the
re, he would bring them something. He had to, even if they’d never forgive him for what he’d done.

  When they stopped at the bakery to buy bread for the journey, the scent emanating from the small enclosure made his mouth water. However, he stayed back, allowing the captain to walk in without him.

  “Be right back. I need to, uh, use the facilities.” He didn’t wait for a response. He ran around the corner to the equipment yard. Most types who ran these places liked to barter, and he had less than ten minutes to make arrangements.

  The equipment yard was a mish mosh of machinery, vehicles, tires, bits and parts, and anything in between. Someone would have to know the exactly layout to find anything. It was a giant puzzle stacked two stories high in some places.

  The figure who emerged at his knock was a small, wizened lady who peered at him through, of all things, a monocle. “Eh, what you want?”

  “Blessings upon you, good lady.” He clasped his hands in greeting.

  She harrumphed. “And hale be thou. Now, what you want?”

  “I’ve got less than two hours, good lady, but I’m willing to pay for what I need.” He smiled his most charming grin. “Have you tractor tires?”

  The old woman’s brow went up into her wrinkled forehead. “Mebbe. What do you need them for?”

  Max took a deep breath and searched for the right words to convince her. “My family is in dire need. They are simple farm folks, tilling the soil from day until dusk. Tires, feed, and anything else you can spare.” The emotion that flowed through him threatened to overwhelm and his voice grew thick. “If you can help, blessings will surely be upon you.”

  She stared at him hard enough to make him want to turn and run. Finally she spoke. “What berth?”

  Relieved, Max kissed her cheek. “Three twenty-three.”

  After a few more minutes of haggling with the merchant, he returned to the bakery at a dead run. When he rounded the corner, he nearly ran face first into Remy. Her arms were folded and her brows in an angry vee.

  “I was about to report you to the Corporation for stealing.”

  Guilt pulled at him. He’d stolen some of her money to pay for the supplies. If he were lucky, she wouldn’t discover it until they were ready to leave—the old woman had promised to deliver everything within an hour.

  “I had to use the facilities.” He wiped the sweat off on his sleeve. “It was a lot of work.”

  “Hm, remember I don’t trust you yet, Fletcher. Now let’s get the rest of the supplies ordered. We’re running out of time, and I want to be out of here as soon as the fuel tanks are full.” She spun on her heel, and her ponytail almost slapped him in the face.

  He let out a breath of relief and started after her. They stopped in half a dozen more places, making arrangements for immediate delivery of the food and supplies they needed. Max trailed behind her, paying for everything she ordered. She spoke to each merchant evenly and fairly, haggling when needed and accepting a good offer when presented. He refused to think about what she would do when she discovered he’d bought things with her money and without her knowledge.

  “What’s your story, Captain?” Max thought it only fair he quizzed her, too.

  She raised one brow. “None of your business.”

  He raised the same brow. “We’re going to be in close quarters for more than two weeks. I reckon we should get to know each other.”

  “I don’t think so.” She pushed open the door to the apothecary’s shop. “I might catch something.”

  This time he laughed out loud. “You’re my kind of smart-ass, Captain.”

  Her mouth twitched, but she kept the laugh inside.

  Max was intrigued. There was more to this woman than she let the world see. She was tough and savvy. He’d do well to find out what he could about her.

  They left the last store with soap and toothpowder in hand. He carried everything while she marched ahead of him.

  “What about the transaction pad?” He gestured to the handyman’s shingle at the end of the street.

  She kept walking, her pointy boots, and he knew how pointy they were, kicking up dust. Either Remy was ignoring him or she hadn’t heard him.

  “I said, what about—”

  “I heard you, Fletcher. I told you, they only sell piles of shit in the shape of a transaction pad.”

  “There’s a handyman’s shop ri—”

  “I said not here. The goods will be at the ship in the next hour, which gives us barely any time to load everything before Katie will be done with the refueling. After we finish this job, I’ll take care of getting a new transaction pad.” Her arms swung hard as she picked up speed. “I’m done talking about it.”

  Max was flummoxed, and he was damn glad she couldn’t see his face. There were plenty of thoughts rolling around inside that stubborn head of hers. Each interaction with her just made him want to find out more about her. He had two weeks to peel back the layers, and he’d be on board the Steel Coyote for the entire trip.

  She glanced to the right. A woman stood there in the shadow of a tattered awning. She wore a nondescript blue shirt and black trousers with a scarf wrapped around her hair and face. She raised her hand and Remy startled. Within seconds of seeing the unknown woman, Remy took off running so fast Max was frozen for a few beats. Then, he bolted after her.

  She sprinted around horses, avoiding three different wagons, and damned if she didn’t jump over a hover bike like a fucking gazelle. Max fell behind, almost no match for the woman’s speed and agility. There were too many people, horses, and other brouhaha at the station to run around or through.

  By the time he made it to the ramp at the Steel Coyote, he was certain his heart would burst, and he was breathing so hard he was dizzy. He pounded up into the ship and found his fearless captain in quiet conversation with Katie. Her hair was stuck to her forehead in a sweaty mess, but she had obviously regained her breath already.

  “How…did…you…” He held up a finger and sucked in a few breaths while they watched him, amusement clearly written on their faces. As he tried his damndest to regain some semblance of his manhood, the captain sent her engineer outside to check on the refueling.

  “Apparently you can’t run as fast as I can.” One blond brow cocked.

  “I didn’t realize it was a race or that you were part cheetah.” He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and ignored the rivers of sweat running down his spine. Later, he’d squeeze out a half a cup of water from the pitiful water purifier and wash up.

  “I slowed down so you could catch up.”

  Damn woman.

  “I, ah, appreciate that.” There was no other response readily available in his oxygen-deprived brain. “Why the hell did you run?”

  She stiffened, and her lips compressed to a tight white line. “We were done shopping, and I wanted to get back quickly.”

  “Ah, that’s a load of horseshit.” He narrowed his gaze. “You ran as soon as you saw that woman.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Supplies should be here in thirty minutes. For now, get up to the bridge and start the prep checklist.” She walked away, her boots crisp on the metal floor of the cargo bay.

  Max leaned against the side of the ship and took in more air. There was something she was hiding, but then again, so was he.

  Remy was a stranger, but she’d gotten under his skin fast. She was smart, strong, brave, and she scrambled his brains. He’d rarely fallen for a woman, none of them like a tornado named after a rifle, fast as a bullet, and tougher than the steel beneath his feet. He’d never felt so out of control, which said a lot, since he’d spent the last fifteen years in one scrape or another.

  Now he was stuck on a ship, beholden to Remy, and heading back to the moon he’d escaped from. Things couldn’t possibly get any weirder.

  …

  Remy focused on the preparation to take off. The fueling was almost complete, and Katie was finishing with the engine checks. All they needed were the supplies, which
were on their way. She should be in a good mood, but she wasn’t. Seeing that woman had spooked her. She suspected the stranger was part of the Great Family watching her, and she needed to heed her father’s warning. Not to mention the last hour spent with Max that had sent her off kilter.

  Max Fletcher wasn’t what she expected. As of now, she never knew what he’d do next, from being a mischievous boy to a competent pilot.

  She stood in the shadows and watched him run through the preflight checklist. He was a natural in the pilot’s seat, his movements sure and swift. His long arms reached this way and that, tapping the screen, checking gauges, and flipping switches. She’d been doing it herself since she could reach the helm and knew someone who had skills. The hologram sat on his shoulder, murmuring softly.

  Max hummed to himself as he worked. A melody she’d heard before but couldn’t remember where or when. He had a nice voice, a deep baritone that didn’t miss a beat. When he leaned over to pick up something he’d dropped, his coat grew snug on his shoulders. Although distracted by the sight of his muscles, she managed to clear her vision and see the guns, two of them, strapped nice and tight in a vertical line beneath the material. He was well-armed and stealthy about it. Another piece to the intricate puzzle of Max Fletcher.

  Remy chastised herself for spying on him—she didn’t need to be complicating things by getting too involved with the man. The only thing she needed from him was to fly to Haverty and offer up his hand when they got there. Nothing else.

  She walked onto the bridge and put her hands on her hips. She was the captain, dammit. “Need you to get down and pay for the fuel. Katie is almost done.” She didn’t look him in the eye as she spoke, her gaze on the instrument panel. “How’s the ship?”

  “She’s old, but she’s solid. These turtles were built to last.”