The Cross (Alliance Book 2) (15 page)

“What I said to you earlier, I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t. I was just…” she needed to find the words, the right ones, but nothing was coming to her now, not with him looking at her like that.

“You were hurt. I know. But you meant it, too. And you were right. I am a coward, when it comes to this. I’ve never been with anyone but Trina, and I was a coward with her too. I’m sorry if I led you to believe otherwise,” he whispered, and she could see the muscles working in his jaw, his teeth clenched, as if to keep from crying.

“Anyway, apology accepted,” he said so very quietly, and turned away from her, towards the fire. She couldn’t let him leave, not like this. She took his hand and he turned, facing her, only his head was down again, and he wasn’t moving at all, just breathing, waiting. She wanted to comfort him, tell him somehow that she really didn’t think any of those things about him, but she knew he wouldn’t believe any of it coming from her.

As if following some instinct, she took a small step closer to him and put her hands on the sides of his face. She felt him flinch and his breathing change, but he didn’t move away from her. She lifted his head up, the silky golden threads sliding between her fingers. He stared at her, all the gold gone from his eyes, and she reached up, standing on the tips of her toes and kissed him softly and quickly on the top of his head, looking at him the whole time, feeling him go rigid, and watching his eyes go large, full of fear large, and she let go of him, afraid. He looked like he wanted to run from her, but he didn’t run, didn’t move at all, just stood there, breathing hard, looking at her strangely, the way nobody had ever looked at her before.

And suddenly his arms were around her, pressing her close, his face buried in her chest, and she let him stay like that for a long time, until after the fire was dead, running her fingers through the silk of his hair, all the gold faded from it in the dark, feeling him breathe, much too fast at first, and then softer, and softer, and finally when they could both barely stand, they got down on the ground right where they were and hugged each other to sleep.

P
RISONER

Amelia

[
May 15, 2236, The Flier Outside Waller
]

He needed to think like a soldier again. He had to leave this group, leave Riley and Laurel and Drake with his soft, sad looks. Drake who he hadn’t been able to say anything to since the day Riley ran out to him like that. He tried to think of a way to apologize to the giant, but couldn’t bring himself to do it, and Drake let him be. If only Riley and Laurel, especially Laurel, could let him be… Waking up next to her this morning, her hand entangled in his hair, her head on his chest, breathing softly into his neck, he couldn’t do this now, couldn’t do any of it. He left her there alone, still asleep, and ran towards the flier. He had to talk to his boys. Had to figure out some kind of a plan for dealing with everything he’d learned, and he couldn’t involve Riley’s group in any of it, couldn’t risk any of them.

Drake was in the clearing by himself, making a fire, humming something to himself, something that he stopped humming as soon as he saw him come out of the woods. He nodded to the giant and kept going towards the flier.

“Brody, we should talk,” and he felt his heart jump. He was waiting for this to happen but he always thought he’d be the one to do it, not Drake. He walked over to him, hoping that whatever Drake had to say to him would be quick, and that he could take it after everything else that happened. Drake offered him a cup of steaming tea, but he didn’t want it, so he shook his head and waited.

“All right then, have a seat, Brody. It won’t take long.”

Drake pointed to the log by the fire. He sat, and then Drake crouched right in front of him, not leaving him any room to run or to look away from him.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for days, but I just couldn’t find the words. I am not sure I have them all now… I owe you an apology, Brody. I’ve known you your whole life, and I should have realized something else was going on with you. That you weren’t just beating the shit out of your best friend for no reason and threatening Ams like that. I should have known you well enough to ask you, before I hit you, before I said what I said to you. I am sorry for that, Brody. I truly am,” and he got up.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fill his lungs with enough air to say anything. He dropped his head into his hands, not wanting to look at Drake, feeling every kind of guilty for what he just heard, not knowing what to do with it.

“I can’t take any more of anyone’s pity. I did something unforgivable to my best friend, Drake. Everything else that happened doesn’t change that. I’d rather live with knowing that, than this. I can’t have everybody lying to me to protect me,” he spat out, Drake still standing in front of him, looking at him, concern in his soft eyes.

He stood up and finally said what he’s been wanting to tell Drake for all these days, “After what I did to Riley that day, I really hoped that whatever you made me drink when I woke up would kill me, that whatever herb I was smelling in it was poisonous. And when I knew it wasn’t, because I wasn’t feeling any kind of sick from it, I wished that you had shot at me first. I still do, only I gave Riley my word that I wouldn’t do anything like that, so I can’t. But what you did and what you said to me, you were right to do it, all of it… I’m sorry I let you down,” and he ran to the flier, not looking at the giant, not looking at anything.

He needed to be alone for a while, so he went down to the cryo bay. Nobody had any reason to go there, not now that Trina was gone, and the unit was off. He sat down in the corner, as far as he could get from the empty glass box, and closed his eyes. He just needed to think, the way he used to, come up with a plan and not worry about anything else. Execute the bloody plan. Only he had all these people around him now that he couldn’t hurt, and it seemed every damn thing that happened to them lately happened because of him, and they hurt for him, because of him. He had to end it.

He must have dozed off after a while of staring at the wall across from him. He felt stiff all over, knees creaking when he stood up. He wasn’t ready for them yet, but he couldn’t just hide here all day. He needed to at least talk to his crew, so he made it up the steps to the main cabin, and without looking at anyone, walked to where Trelix and Loren always were by the controls, only they weren’t. And when he turned around he saw them amidst the rest of the group, looking at him, Drake too, his arm thrown protectively over Ella’s shoulder. They were all standing in between the seats, not saying anything, watching him.

“All right. Somebody just say it. Whatever it is,” he asked sharply.

Riley walked up to him, his face looking all kinds of sorry for what he was going to say or do.

“We think you are going to try to run, Brody, and we can’t let you. I’m sorry, but we can’t.”

He let that sink in for a minute, hoping he misheard. That this was some kind of joke. Looking at Riley and then the rest of them, he knew it wasn’t.

“So I am a prisoner again. For how long, Riley? How long do you intend to keep me here like this? And my crew, are they under your command now? Tell me, Riley. It’s a simple bloody question,” he snapped at him.

Riley reached out with his hand, but he stepped away from him, feeling angry enough to strike at him if he touched him.

“Just answer the damn question.”

Riley shook his head at him sadly, “I don’t know, Brody. Until we know we can trust you not to run, not to do anything rash or stupid that’ll risk your life, or anybody else’s. Trelix and Loren are still your crew, but they agree with us on this. I’m sorry,” he said softly, and he looked like he really was sorry.

“Are you going to cuff me again, Riley? Stick a tracker on me? I don’t have any weapons left. Laurel has all of mine already. Do you need my hands, or do you just want to strap me into one of these seats to make it easier for all of you?”

He knew he was screaming at him. He couldn’t help it. And he knew the rest of them were watching, listening. He wanted to be calm for them, his quiet, in control calm, but this was the last thing he expected, the last bloody thing he needed, and it angered him more than anything that they were all okay with doing this to him.

He put his hands out in front of him, staring at Riley, daring him to tie him up or put a slave band on him again, knowing that it would hurt him to do it. Riley didn’t move, just stood there, looking at him with sadness in his eyes, and nobody else said or did anything. He couldn’t take it for another second. He shoved Riley out of the way, and went down the aisle between all of them, not looking at them, heading for the door.

A giant hand gripped his shoulder, hard. He knew it was Drake’s, knew he couldn’t fight him. He turned around, and before he could say anything to him, Drake grabbed his right hand and cuffed it to the closest seat, “You need to calm the hell down, Brody. I am going to go get everybody some breakfast, and then we’ll talk and figure this out. But for now, you are staying put,” and he walked away from him, leaving him standing awkwardly in the narrow space between the rows of seats, leaning to the side because of the stupid cuff, unable to do anything but sit in the chair he was cuffed to. The rest of them walked past him, not looking at him, Trelix and Loren being last, and they just lowered their eyes.

He sat down, closed his eyes and decided that he was done with them, done with all of them. He’d sit here like this until his body couldn’t take it anymore, but he was done speaking to any of them, or eating, or drinking. Done fighting them, the Council, or the Alliance. Done fighting anybody. Just bloody done.

He felt a soft small hand on his shoulder after a while. Laurel’s. She smelled of pine needles, probably from last night. He didn’t move. She walked around him and sat next to him, looking at his face. He turned away. He still didn’t want to hurt this girl, but he couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t talk to anybody.

She picked up his free hand, without saying anything, and held it in both of hers, making it warm.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me. Likely don’t want to talk to anybody. But I have to ask you something, and I need you to just answer that, and I need you to be honest when you do. It’s a yes or no question. You don’t even have to speak, just nod, or shake your head. Can you do that?”

He felt he owed her something for comforting him last night. He could give her this much, so he looked at her and nodded.

“Do you want to die, Brody?”

She was staring into his eyes, nothing soft about that look now.

He didn’t see this coming at all, her asking him this so bluntly. He couldn’t lie to her, and didn’t want to scare her either. But he did promise her, and he felt bound by it, so he nodded, just once, took his hand from hers, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He could feel her move and then leave and he was alone again. He could manage this, the alone thing. It’s the people he couldn’t take, not any of them, not even this sweet girl who put him to sleep last night, running her hands through his hair, and it felt so unbearably good to have her do that, he didn’t want her to fall asleep, didn’t want her to stop.

He heard footsteps on the stairs, heavy. Not Laurel or Ams. Riley then. He didn’t move. Didn’t want to move. He was done talking to Riley for a while, a very long while, the rest of his life long maybe. He was standing in front of him with a plate of steaming food and a thermos. He shook his head at him.

“You have to eat, Brody. Sorry, but you have to. I know you’re mad at me, probably mad at all of us, but you will eat and you will drink,” Riley said evenly.

“No, Riley. But you’re welcome to just force it down my throat again. I won’t fight you. Do it, or leave,” and he closed his eyes.

He heard Riley put the thermos and the food on the tray next to him, and heard him walk away, back to the chatter in the clearing. He knew they were all trying to figure out what to do with him, as if he was theirs to worry about, as if he really was a prisoner. Judging by how he was cuffed to a bloody seat at the moment, he was. He’ll wait them out. He’ll find a way to run. He just needed to get out of these damn cuffs, and he needed at least one of his boys to help him get the flier into the air again.

He must have slept for a bit, because he didn’t hear anyone go up the steps, but Drake was standing next to him, unlocking his cuff, and then lifting him up and dragging him to the clearing. He didn’t fight him, and finally, Drake sat him down on the log by the fire. The rest of them stood on the other side of the fire from him, keeping their heads down, everybody but Riley.

Riley was right in front of him, looking at him in his old Riley way.

“If you give me your word that you won’t try to run, you can move around freely again, Brody,” his voice a plea. He had his hands behind his back, his head leaning forward towards him in that way he had. He couldn’t do that, so he shook his head, and went back to staring at the flames, hoping that they’d all get tired of babysitting, and he could run then, run without breaking any promises, run without feeling guilty for it.

Riley took the few steps to him. He was holding a slave band, and judging by the green light pulsing on it, they put a tracker in it. He never thought Riley would put one of these on him again, that he could bring himself to do it after everything they’d gone through, yet here it was. He stood up and put his hands out, letting him close the band around his wrists and lock it in place, not looking at him, not wanting to say anything to him either. He stood still after Riley walked away from him, waiting for somebody to tell him what the hell they wanted him to do next, but nobody did. Nobody said anything.