The Last Marine (25 page)

Prudence felt all the blood drain from her face.
Sweet goddess, no.

“And as they get closer, I’m hearing kids singing. At first, I thought they were fucking about—that the cocksucker terrorists were playing a recording or something—part of their cover. But as the bus is getting closer, I’m seeing shit flying around in the inside of the bus. So I grab my oculars and take a peek and you know what I saw? Do you?”

Merrick cursed.

Prudence swallowed past the knot in her throat. “Kids.”

“Hell, yeah. Bus full of kids bouncing a holoball back and forth, singing.”

For a long time he held her stare, so long she thought he might leave the story there. She wanted him to leave the story there. She already knew what happened. Could see it written plain in the agony of his expression. This was why he was punishing himself. He killed those kids and he couldn’t get past it. But she knew Griffin. She knew him and she loved him and there was no way he’d have knowingly done such a thing.

“I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t do anything to prevent the bombs from going off. I ran out there, waving my arms like a lunatic and the fucking driver waved back.” He blinked hard. “He stuck his arm out the window and waved like he was on a Sunday drive. Next thing I know, it was done. The singing stopped. There was glass everywhere, twisted metal. Toys and . . . bits”—his face twisted—“strewn all over. The air smelled of gasoline and cooked meat. I killed twenty-one little kids and their driver and you know what? I still thought we got a bum scoop. I thought they fucked up. I knew I fucked up. And when I returned to base, thinking I was going to the brig, your goddamned husband handed me a medal.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t know, I—”

“Your husband clapped me on the shoulder, and said, ‘I know that must’ve been hard, son, but you did well.’ Did I?” he shouted the question. “Did I do good? Somehow, I don’t think that busload of kids singing ‘Happy and You Know It’ in Swahili were planning to strap bombs to their chests and terrorize the spaceport.”

Prudence got to her feet and reached toward him. “Come here, Griff.”

He appeared stricken. “What are you doing? Didn’t you hear me?”

She nodded, daring a step closer. “What you’re saying is awful, horrible.”

“Then what are you doing?” His face bunched up. “You can’t want me.”

“I do.” She nodded, urging him closer because she feared if he left, she wouldn’t ever see him alive again. “I still want you. I love you.”

He cursed and strode out of the room.

“Griffin!”

Lucan stopped her from going after him. “Honey, give him some time.”

“I’ve got his weapons.” Merrick held up the Lockheed Martin and the Swiss Army knife. “He’ll be okay for a few minutes.”

She turned her face into Lucan’s shoulder. “Why does he do that to himself? He didn’t know.”

“He’s always been like that.” Lucan shrugged. “For as long as I can remember, he always seemed to think he had a responsibility to take care of everybody.”

Everyone but himself. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose him.”

Lucan gave her a warm smile. “Nah. Griffin’s smart. He’ll think things over and realize you need him more than anyone else does. He’ll come around. And we’ll make sure he gets the help he needs.”

Merrick smoothed her hair back. “And if he doesn’t, we’ll beat some sense into him for you.”

Griffin strode down the street. What the fuck just happened?

He’d explained in detail what a dishonorable bastard he was, and she still wanted him.

He’d taken the lives of a busload of youths.

He’d killed his CO and his escorting unit.

He’d survived when his whole base had been destroyed.

And when he’d tried to earn back a little of his honor by making things right, he’d made conditions worse for everyone.

Why in holy hell did she want to even breathe the same air as him?

Anxiety crawled under his skin. Every time he worked himself up to accept the punishment he deserved, no one would cooperate. Instead of going to the brig, he’d been awarded a medal. Instead of a courts martial, he’d survived his base being fragged. Instead of being looked at for the piece of shit he was, a woman far above him in morality loved him.

And the thing was, while he didn’t want the medal and he didn’t want to be the sole survivor, God help him, he did want her love. But if he allowed himself to accept such a gift, wouldn’t that make him even more of a monster? Wouldn’t that mean he didn’t take his past mistakes as seriously as he should?

The noise of Main Street grew louder as he approached and he couldn’t bear to be around people right then. Didn’t want to see the citizens of Diamond Fjord enjoying their community and the prosperous town they’d built. Doing so would remind him why they were here in the first place—because of him, and men like him, blindly following orders.

Griffin turned down an alley. Even the narrow aisles between the shiny buildings were free from litter.

There was no place for trash like him.

He sat down on a step leading to the back of one of Main Street’s shops and stared at the wall across from him.

What the hell was he doing, anyway? Even if he managed to steal a ship, get back to Earth and kill Randolph—who was to say someone else wouldn’t rise up in the bastard’s place? Who was to say the new PM wouldn’t be as adamant about possessing Prudence? Christ, he had to protect Prudence. Maybe there was no hope for him, but he’d make sure she survived.

He focused on the wall in front of him. It wasn’t the same iridescent diamond-wood of the others, but had been painted a flat white as a base for a mural. With a glance, he knew his brother had created the painting. He must have circled around and now faced the back of Lucan’s shop. The left side depicted a war zone, homes and trees burned and Lucan had captured stark horror in the eyes of those fleeing. The scene was dark, the smoke blocking out the sun. Beneath the picture, read: “Society’s curse is to bring destruction to individuals.”

The first scene blended into the second, the aftermath. The sunlight poured down on the broken remnants of buildings and the skeletal remains of trees. A blackened, twisted swing-set sat in the background and powdery ash covered everything. In the foreground a child poured water from a can onto a bright green sapling. The caption read: “Individuals are responsible for ensuring beauty grows from the ash.”

A tremor ran through him and stuck, making him shake like a palsied old man. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? What’s that mean?”

The empty alleyway had no answer, just his shout echoed back to him. He covered his face with his hands, shamed by his outburst.

Behind him, a door opened. Damn it, now he’d disturbed Lucan’s neighbor. Without turning, he headed off down the alley.

Someone grabbed him. A bag came down over his head, limiting his vision to tiny pinpricks of light streaming through the material. Struggling, Griffin reached for his weapon, but the Lockheed Martin wasn’t there. Well, shit, that’s why Merrick had been crowding into him earlier. He kicked out with his foot, connecting with his attacker’s knee. A male shouted.

“Hit him.”

Griffin twisted within the grasp of his attacker, arching back with the intention of head-butting the bastard holding the bag over his head.

Something hard wacked him across his skull. Pain burst like fireworks in his head, reverberating down his spine. The tiny beads of light blurred. The hands around his wrists loosened. His whole body jarred as he dropped to his knees. He tried to stop his forward momentum, but his arms wouldn’t obey.

The whole world went dark.

Chapter 31

Griffin came awake in degrees.

At first, he noted dread heavy in his gut. He’d fought with Prudence. He’d hurt the woman he loved because he couldn’t get past his guilt. More than anything, he wanted to make things up to her. He’d find her, pull her into his arms and beg her forgiveness.

But as soon as he tried to move pain shot through his head, his arms. He squinted his eyes open and after looking at pinpricks of fractured light for a moment, he realized he stared at the inside of a black cloth bag.

Someone had snatched him off the street in broad daylight.

He half-stood, half-leaned against some kind of A-frame. Metal bars rose up at angles on either side of him, meeting where his wrists had been secured over his head. Another bar pressed across his hips, keeping him from sagging and putting all his weight on his cuffed hands. His shoulders ached and his limbs felt as though thousands of tiny needles were being worked under his skin. His legs were spread wide, ankles bound and anchored to the bottom of the frame.

This couldn’t be good.

He cleared his throat. Might as well get this blanket party started. “Hello?”

A voice answered from behind him. “Where is Prudence?”

Griffin couldn’t see a damned thing, but he’d recognize that voice anywhere. Bronsen. The sick fuck was delusional if he thought he’d tell him anything. “Who?”

A whoosh filled the air. Something thin and hard cracked across his back.

Griffin’s lungs emptied of air as pain scorched over his skin. A shudder wracked through him. That would leave a mark.
That’s karma for being an ass to Prudence earlier.

“I’m going to ask nicely one more time. Where is Prudence Parnell?”

“And I’m going to tell you nicely one more time. I don’t know who that is.”

“Strip him.”

Griffin snorted. “Might have been easier had you thought of that before you chained me up, genius.”

Seconds later, he decided he should’ve keep his mouth shut. Two sets of hands went to work ripping and cutting his clothing away. One of the bastards cut a long line down his leg when he sliced through his cargos with a blade. Bit by bit they divested him of his clothes until he stood bare-assed against the A-frame. The only parts of his body even partially protected were his hands at the top of the frame and his stomach which pressed to the freezing cold bar. Blood trickled down his leg.

“You two can wait outside.”

The men who had stripped him left the room, the door closing behind them.

“Now, Chief Payne, we found the escape pod you landed in. Prudence was with you; we found her sweaters. I spoke to the men at the Outpost.”

“Gee, boss. You seem to know everything. You must already know that the woman I was with took off while I talked to the men at the Outpost. Haven’t seen her since.”

“The men said you claimed she was yours.” Bronsen made his way around Griffin, his shoes clicking on the floor. “Tell me, how long have you known Prudence?”

“I told you, we met on
Genesis V
. She took off after we landed on Asteria. I haven’t seen her since.”

“This,” he tapped a thin rod against Griffin’s hood, “is a bamboo cane.”

Griffin heard the thing hiss through the air as Bronsen reeled his arm back. Then he heard it come back. His whole body tensed. Fire blazed across his ass cheeks.

“It’s hard not to tense up when you hear the cane sing, isn’t it?” Bronsen’s chuckle sounded flat, cold. “Thing is, tensing up makes the bite harder.”

Sweat broke out over Griffin’s skin. “Hey, Bronsen?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck you.”

Amusement laced Bronsen voice. “Maybe later. Randolph thinks you helped her plan her trip here. He thinks she fed you information to aid you in assassinating Alfred.”

“Bullshit.”

Without warning, the cane lanced across his shoulders.

Griffin grunted, clenching his jaw tight. “I acted alone. And how the hell would I have helped her from prison? I couldn’t even talk. I was never alone.” The accusation didn’t even make sense, Randolph made sure he was locked down tight during his stint in jail. “I think those reports I read about Randolph being psychologically fragile are making more and more sense.”

Bronsen made no response, but he did pause in his endless walk around Griffin. It wasn’t much, a missing beat of the clack of his shoes on the floor, but it was a reaction.

Griffin snorted. “Now why does that bother you? Surely, it’s no surprise. You were head of Alfred’s security. You work pretty close with Randolph. Hell, there were times while I was in prison I was sure the two of you were fucking and—” Well, shit. He’d been ready to kill the wrong man. Again. “Christ, it’s you, isn’t it? You’re listed as the Parnell’s head of security, but what . . .? You’re their advisor?”

“Nope. Just security.” Bronsen continued his circular pacing, and when he stood behind Griffin, he let the cane sing.

A line of fire crossed his back.
Holy hell, that stung.
His body was starting to react, to shake.

“And Randolph’s lover. Alfred didn’t mind Randolph being around at first.” Though he couldn’t see, Griffin followed Bronsen’s voice, knowing what would come when he reached his back again. “The show of a united family was core to Alfred’s purpose. He needed Randolph and I made sure Randolph stayed . . . content.”

Whack.

A gasp broke from Griffin’s lips as the cane scored his calves. He inhaled a deep breath. “Didn’t Randolph mind? I mean his brother was emptying out the loony bins and sending all the mental health patients off-planet. Wasn’t Randolph worried he might be next?”

“No. Randolph isn’t crazy. It’s more of an anxiety thing, but I took care of him. And for a while, Alfred seemed to forget his brother had any problem whatsoever.”

The cane sang, striking against Griffin’s hip. His knees had turned to jelly and his gut roiled. It took every ounce of energy to keep his weight off his arms. He blinked away reflexive tears. “For a while?”

“Toward the end, Alfred wanted to clean up the loose ends. He planned to send Randolph away.”

Griffin bit his lip, his whole body tensed for the next blow, but Bronsen walked past without striking. Fucking bastard. “But you couldn’t allow that.” Griffin shook his head. “It wasn’t coincidence that there was no security the night I assassinated Alfred, was it?”

Bronsen chuckled. “No. You were tagged, soldier boy. I watched a handful of those who survived. Kept tabs on where you were, what you were doing. It wasn’t hard to figure out what you had planned.”

“I could’ve changed my mind at the last moment.”

Bronsen chuckled, letting the cane fly.

Caught off guard, Griffin let out a shout.

“But you were there and you were armed. And even if you hadn’t been so cooperative, Alfred still would’ve died.”

“And I still would’ve taken the fall.” Christ, had there been a time in the last two years when someone higher up the food chain
hadn’t
been using him?

“Mm, right now, I want to know about Prudence. And then we’re going to talk about your pathetic little rebellion.”

The cane sang.

Griffin tensed his ass, but this time the cane sliced across the backs of his knees. He bit down on his cheek to restrain a shout. He pressed his face to his shoulder, breathing heavily. He was starting to have trouble focusing. What the hell had they been talking about? “Christ, your mother flogs harder than you.”

Bronsen circled him, his shoes echoing on the hard floor. He made one full circle, then kept on until he stood in front of Griffin.

Ah, fuck. Unable to do anything to protect himself should Bronsen strike, he gripped the top of the A-frame in his hands and grit his teeth.

The tip of the cane stroked down his chest, over his abs to his groin. Bronsen tapped the edge against Griffin’s testicles. “Are you suggesting my mother is into S&M and that you’ve had the pleasure?”

His heart thundered in his chest and a hefty dose of adrenaline spiked through his system.

Keep your mouth shut.

He knew remaining silent would be in his best interest, but he’d be damned if he’d let the son of a bitch think he was cowed. “Nah, man. I don’t fuck skanks.”

The cane sang.

*****

Lucan watched Prudence pace his living room for the umpteenth time. She was a lovely woman, even-tempered, sweet, and head-over-heels for his lunatic brother. What the hell was Griffin thinking? He couldn’t want to choose a suicide-mission over a life with Prudence. Could he?

“We’re gonna find him, Angelica.”

Her lavender eyes were full of concern. “What if he already left? What if he refuses to come back? What if he hurt himself? He wouldn’t, would he?”

“Of course not.” But he had the same concerns. Griffin never could bear to walk away from a situation where someone was being hurt. The guilt from his time in the military must be driving him crazy. “We’ll make him come back. Merrick was pretty fucked-up when we first met. He still had a lot of survivor guilt from his stint in the army. He acted a lot like you said Griffin’s been acting. Some days were good, some bad. He started going to Dr. Lambert and it took a while, but he got better.”

She paused and put her hand to her stomach. “He’s been gone so long. What if he’s in trouble?”

Lucan locked onto the gesture. He’d seen her touch her stomach like that quite often in the last twenty-four hours. “Does he know?” His gaze flicked from her flat stomach to her eyes. “About the baby?”

Her hand dropped to her side, before swinging out in a helpless gesture. “I didn’t want to add to whatever’s going on with him. I want him to want to be with us, but I want him to stay for the right reasons.”

While he did understand her concern, he didn’t think keeping Griffin in the dark too long would be fair. “But either way, you will tell him?” He couldn’t stand the idea of his brother not knowing he was going to be a father.

“Once Griffin has made his choice, I will tell him.” She walked to the window and stared out. “If he doesn’t want to stay, I’d still make sure he had access to his child.”

“Me and Merrick, too?”

A small smile curved her lips. “Of course. I wouldn’t deny my baby her uncles.”

He got to his feet and walked over to her. “Then let me be the first to congratulate you.” He wrapped her in his arms, catching the tremor that ran through her. “Everything is going to be fine, Mama.”

The shop door opened downstairs.

“Merrick is back.” Lucan released her and went to the stairs, but one look at Merrick’s face told him the news wasn’t good. He forced a smile for Prudence’s sake. She didn’t need all this stress, not in her condition. “Angel, I’m gonna go help Merrick. You stay inside and don’t answer the door. I don’t need to be searching for two of you.”

He waited for her nod and then went downstairs and straight into Merrick’s arms. For a moment, he took comfort in his partner’s strong embrace.

“Come on, babe.”

Silent, Lucan followed him outside, surprised when Merrick kept walking. He stopped at the corner and turned to Lucan. “The Blue Helmets have Griffin.”

Though he knew something bad had happened, his head still went fuzzy with shock. This hadn’t been one of his concerns. “What did he do? Where are they holding him? What’s bail?”

Merrick shook his head. “No bail. I’m pretty sure from the background they have him up at the compound outside the spaceport, but I need you look and tell me if I’m right. You’re better at noting the details of a place and your memory is better.”

Lucan nodded. The compound belonged to the spaceport’s commander and chief. Earlier that year, he’d been invited to do a small mural of the Grand Canyon in the dining room.

“I need you to brace yourself.” Merrick cupped his cheek, his eyes full of concern. “They’re showing him on the mega holo-projector in the square and he’s a mess. I need you to focus on the background and tell me if that room is part of the compound. I need you not to react. Blue Helmets are crawling all over the place. You can’t let them know he means anything to you.”

Lucan’s stomach rolled into a tight knot. Though Griffin never spoke of any of it, he knew his brother had been in tight spots before. But Lucan had never witnessed the brutality of Griffin’s life—his career—first hand.

Merrick’s hand slid into his and they walked down Main Street to the square. People crowded around in groups of two or three, whispering. The selling stalls were abandoned. The children weren’t playing. It was as if they whole town had gone into mourning.

His gut twisted into a sickening knot.

Merrick led the way, walking past their neighbors and friends until they reached a spot where they could see the holographic projection of Griffin.

Lucan bit down on his cheek, his hand tightening around Merrick’s.

For a heart-stopping second or two, he thought Griffin was dead. The hologram rotated, showing Griffin secured to an A-frame from every angle. His back, ass, and thighs were raw with a multitude of deep welts and lacerations, several of which bled freely. As the hologram turned it showed the same was true for his front. His chest had turned purple in some places, in others long, deep welts crisscrossed his flesh. His groin had been pixeled-out, but there were long, angry red welts across his thighs suggesting nothing had been spared. The worst, though, was his face, his features were so swollen and discolored, Lucan couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not.