The Last Marine (5 page)

Behind him, someone rattled the door violently. The stool leg held in place. For now.

He scanned the ground, searching for footprints. He’d expected she’d return to the pod—the one familiar place on this planet—but he couldn’t find any sign she’d gone that direction. He circled all the way around before seeing her footprints. There. Due east. If those men had spoken the truth, she was headed straight into unexplored territory. Then again, they could’ve lied. He would’ve in their situation.

Griffin shouldered his stolen pack and ran into the desert.

Chapter 7

Someone was following her.

Prudence’s heart seemed to want to gallop right out of her chest via her throat. She pressed her back up against the sharp stone outcropping and went still.

Everything had gone silent. She heard no more footsteps, no heavy breathing.

The brisk wind swept over the desert floor, dragging the sand into an ever-changing landscape. Whirl-winds carried the black stuff into the air in miniature tornados.

She eased to the side and peered around the stone. Whatever she’d heard had gone. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the rocks. When she opened them a scant second later, she screamed.

Chief Payne had found her. With the quick grace of a predator, he grabbed her arm and clicked something around her wrist. A handcuff. The other end was already secured around his arm.

“No!” She wrested her hand away, inadvertently pulling him closer. “What are you doing? Why are—?”

His hand clamped down over her mouth. “Shut it, lady. Those friends of yours might come looking. So decide, them or me.”

She stared at him in dawning horror. After everything she’d gone through to escape Randolph Parnell, after barely avoiding being gang-raped, he was going to do the deed. He was no better than the rest of them.

He turned away, which yanked her arm forward and, as he crouched to sit with his back to her, she almost ended up with her face plastered against his backside. Something in her snapped and she shoved him. He did a face plant in the dirt, the cuffs linking them dragging her forward, too. She landed on top of his back, fisted her hands and punched his head and shoulders, kicking him as hard as she could.

With a swift, powerful roll he pinned her beneath him, his palm once again covering her mouth. She struggled. One of her hands ended up between them, but she punched and pushed at him with the other until with a curse he released her mouth and squished her other hand between their bodies, too.

He glared down at her, speaking through clamped teeth. “Have I hurt you?”

“Yes! You’re hurting me now.”

“Before you attacked me, have I ever hurt you?”

Her mouth opened to scream yes, but his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing. She shook her head.

Griffin got up, dragging her with him. “Sit.” He motioned toward the rocks she’d huddled against earlier.

She did as he said, shaking so hard she wasn’t sure how she’d have the strength to fight him again. He wasn’t like the Parnells. He was larger and more muscular than even Randolph. And he wasn’t like that pack of ruffians, either—he was controlled, calm.

He sat on his haunches next to her. “Spread your legs.”

She gasped. “What?”

With a loud sigh, he grabbed her knees, thrust her legs apart and lay between them. Before she got past her shock enough to fight, he pressed his shoulders between her thighs and rested the back of his head on one. He held his hand up with some kind of tool in it. “Wire cutters.”

She looked down at him and he smiled—grimaced really—and she gasped again. His teeth were bloody and thin barbed wires crisscrossed over and between them.

“Okay?”

Okay? No, it wasn’t okay. No wonder he didn’t speak during the trial, he probably couldn’t. “You—” She shook her head. “You want me to cut them out?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Griffin reached up and undid the cuff from her wrist. She almost sighed in relief, but before she could, he had the cuff around her ankle, instead.

She glared.

He showed her the keys before tossing them several feet away. “Don’t. Hurt. Me.”

Prudence snatched the wire cutters. “I’m strong. I could drag your dead body that far.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up and he shook his head. “Weak.”

She bristled at the insult. The man could hardly speak, every word must be excruciating, yet he thought it was important enough to let her know he thought her weak. “And you’re stupidly brave to goad me when I could cause you unspeakable pain.”

His gaze shifted away and his throat rippled as he swallowed. Hard.

Master Chief Griffin Jude Payne was scared. Of her. That was a bit of a revelation. True, he appeared to be in a vulnerable position. But was he? She’d seen the way he moved, all coiled power behind easy movements until he chose to strike. Then he was quick as hell and twice as deadly. Back on the ship he’d taken down three Blue Helmets in less than a minute. He might not like being in this position, but she wasn’t stupid enough to assume him vulnerable.

Still, he hadn’t hurt her, not really, even though she must have caused him pain when she punched his face. “But I won’t.” She waited until his sea-green eyes searched hers. “Because I’m a better person than that.”

He spread his lips and she used her thumb to help push his full lower lip out of the way. The wires pulled tight against his teeth, the little barbs pointed out to do the maximum damage to inner lips and cheeks. She snipped the first wire, and groaned as the cutters slipped and gouged his gums. A bead of blood welled. She was doing more damage than good. “I’m so sorry.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t do this. I’m gonna hurt you.”

With his un-cuffed hand, he reached up and wiped her tears. “Worse if you don’t.”

Prudence sniffed and wiped the backs of her hands over her eyes. She could do this. If she wanted to be a pioneer on Asteria, she’d have to treat injuries from time to time. What were a few nicks in the face of split skin every time he tried to talk?

She moved to the next wire, but he caught her shaky hand in his. “Breathe.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. Huddling over her task, she was all too aware of her breast snuggled against his face as she maneuvered the cutters around the next wire. Her lips thinned as her nipples tightened and something deep in her stomach sprang to life. Her body was ridiculous. Here she was, a mouse with a wounded lion sprawled in her lap, waiting for her to make one wrong move so he could gobble her up.

This was not the time to be aroused.

She never got aroused.

*****

She sounded like she was in the throes of passion.

Griffin bent his knees, planting his feet flat on the ground to hide his budding erection. With each snip of the cutters, she moaned in sympathy. He could imagine a hundred different ways he wanted to make this gorgeous woman moan and not a damned one of them involved sympathy.

Christ, he must be in a bad way if his errant body responded to dental work.

“The front ones are loose. I need you to turn to the side.”

He held her gaze for a moment, willing her to understand how much he was trusting her. And how much she’d regret betraying him. Turning, he placed his cheek to the soft pad of her thigh. He could smell her, eucalyptus and musk. His cock jumped in anticipation.

She pulled his cheek back and the cutters, warmed by her hand, slipped toward his back teeth.
Concentrate on that. The pain. The thought of freedom. Wanting this woman goes against everything you believe. She’s a Parnell, for Christ’s sake.

But there wasn’t much pain. She executed each cut with care, removed each wire gingerly to prevent further harm.

What is her name?
He had researched the Parnells. He remembered her name had a double P-P. Parnell. And it sounded old fashion. Petunia? Paris? Portia?

“This one’s going to hurt. The wire is too tight; I’ll have to snip it up by the gum.”

He slipped his arm under her leg and flexed around her to keep himself from jerking away at a critical moment. Smooth metal scrapped his gums. The woman tensed. Snip. He relaxed with a sigh as she pulled out another piece of barbed wire and bent back to her work.

How long had it been since he’d been between a woman’s thighs? Since before his last tour, at least. He’d buried his parents on his last leave and that was what, two years ago, plus the six months travel time to Asteria? So, too long. That’s how long it’d been.

She stroked her hand down his face. “Other side.”

Griffin rolled over and wrapped his arms around her other leg the best he could while cuffed to her ankle. This was going to be a bitch. Once she made the last cut, she’d have to pull the big one out.

Jesus, the Parnells were sadistic bastards. He hated the lot of them.
All of them?
Yes, damn it. This one may be convenient and beautiful, but she was still a Parnell. He wouldn’t hurt her if she behaved, but he damn sure didn’t have to like her.

“You can make noise, you know.” She cut another wire and moaned. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He almost laughed. She’d hear him make some noise all right. Right after she finished with these external wires. When that last one came through his tongue, he had no doubt the pain would unman him. Parnell and his buddy Bronsen had taken great pleasure in reminding him he’d passed out when they pulled the damn thing through. Those barbs hurt like hell.

“Almost done.”

If only.

“There.” She started to tug on that last wire and he gripped her wrist to stop her. He took a moment to stretch his stiff jaw. The joint screamed in agony after not being used in the last nine months. After opening and closing his jaw a few times, he opened it as wide as he could and stuck out his tongue so she could see how the wire had been pierced through.

She stared into his mouth, her eyes reflecting the horror of what she saw. Her head started to shake from side to side and she reared back as if to flee. He lifted his hand to stop her.

When she met his gaze, he nodded once. “Oo at.” Great. He sounded like a drunk toddler.

Holding his tongue against his teeth, he parted them enough so she could pull the wire through. He made a jerking motion with his hand to show her he wanted her to rip it out fast.

“Chief Payne, I can’t.”

He nodded once and lay his face in her lap, flexing his arms around her leg. He was done discussing the matter. It needed to be done and she’d better get on with it.

The wire tugged at his tongue a couple times as she wrapped one end around her finger. His heart hammered in his chest and sweat broke out on his brow.

“One.”

He wanted to tell her to get it over with already.

“Two.”

Christ, this was going to hurt.

“Three.”

*****

She screamed.

Griffin didn’t make a sound.

“Chief Payne?”

His grip on her leg would leave bruises. His face pressed into her jeans and a shudder ran through every tensed inch of him. For a heartbeat or two, he didn’t appear any tougher than a toddler, with his eyes screwed up tight and his whole body seeking some kind of feminine comfort. She dropped the wire cutters and wrapped her arms around him best she could. “It’s all over now. All done. You were very brave.”

When he released her leg and pushed back, she sat back to accept his gratitude.

He glared. He sat up, turned away and spit blood on the ground.

No more little boy, just a surly, testosterone-filled, badass now. When he tried to stand, she pulled the chain linking them together. “Come here. I have a med-wand.”

“’Ow ma’y?”

If he’d been difficult to understand before, now it was almost impossible. “Just the one, but that’s all you need.”

“’Eep it.”

“Goddess save me from prideful males. You need it. I don’t.” She pulled the thin silver wand out of her backpack. “Come here.”

He shook his head, and spit again. She glanced down at the bloody bit of wire she’d pulled out of him. Three jagged spurs jutted out at various angles. His tongue must be shredded.

The chain linking them tugged at her leg as he tried to stand. Tried being the operative word. He dropped back to his knees, his eyes rolled back and he slumped face-first in the sand. Men. At least he’d landed closer to the cuff key.

Prudence collected her bag, slipped the wire cutters inside one of the pockets, and set it next to Griffin. The little tool might come in handy again. She scooted past Griffin, careful not to tug on the chain linking them, to see how close she could get to the key.

Not close enough.

She tried lying on her belly, her cuffed ankle extended toward Griffin, and stretching her hands toward the keys. She almost giggled in glee when they jangled beneath her fingers. It took her awhile, but she nudged them closer until she could wrap her fingers around them.

Prudence unlocked herself, then Griffin. The cuffs and keys went into her pack. They might come in handy, too.

Now, for the dangerous part. Kneeling next to him, she rolled Griffin onto his back. He was a mess—his cheeks were swollen and blood dripped from his mouth. She slipped the med-wand between his parted lips. The scanner clicked on, assessing the damage and beeped twice when finished. She withdrew the device, calibrated the wand as the scan suggested and put it back between his lips.

Griffin moaned when the device clicked back into action. Med-wands were handy tools, but painful. It took several minutes before the med-wand clicked off. She set it down next to him and used the edge of his shirt to wipe away the last few droplets of blood beading on his lips. She had to pull his shirt all the way up so it bunched under his armpits in order to reach his face, and that’s when she noticed his tattoo—the eagle, globe, and anchor over his heart. The mark of a Marine. She traced the outline of the anchor.