Silver Bound (5 page)

“I need to track a certain fund transfer.”

“Such a simple thing to do for a friend.” If possible, Troshky’s dimples deepened.

Troshky hit pay dirt.

With all the illegal data at his fingertips, Troshky made the outrageous payoff worthwhile, and Guy had the berth number for Kalon, not far from his own on
Zuthuru.
He’d stash Jewel safely in his and confront the man. He’d sell all of Trident Ranch to buy the Broker if the man had it.

He took his leave with the usual promises to return, helped Jewel rise from her seat and guided her to the door. Troshky still hadn’t acknowledged her presence, but he chuckled knowingly.

“My friend, you will enjoy being caught in silver.”

The tip of Guy’s ears burned, but he didn’t reply. The door closed behind them.

Hustling through the corridors, he held Jewel’s hand and directed her toward his berth. They took a lift to the correct level. The car beside theirs pinged, and the doors clacked.

The hair on the back of his neck bristled. Trusting never-fail instincts, he yanked Jewel behind a café cart and pretended interest with the vendor.

“Two cafeteens.” He nodded at the server pouring the beverages and peered at the three men who stepped off the lift.

The sour expression of the man in the middle didn’t concern him at first. The tall bruiser’s deep rumble of displeasure did. He’d heard that growl before.

It was Kalon Geanus. The bulky, fist-sized Broker couldn’t be easily hidden in the Terraloft guise of the man. He didn’t have it.

Guy halted his lunge before it started and shuffled his slippered feet. His hands fisted against the urge to choke Kalon until the degenerate pilferer revealed the location of the unit, but if it wasn’t one of the broken pieces of tech in the silver-tip office, he’d probably jettisoned it at the nearest waste chute. Why would he keep it?

He paid for the cafeteens and handed one to Jewel. “No help for it.” He looked hard into Jewel’s clear blue eyes. “I hate to bring you into harm’s way, but if we don’t get a Broker for you, you’ll be tied to me the rest of your life.”

“I am,” she whispered.

She was. But not the way he’d wanted her tied to him, with an old-fashioned wedding band.

“Don’t drink that. I need it.”

She didn’t give him the are-you-crazy look he expected, she just nodded in compliance. A small pang of remorse soured his mood further.

They followed the men, but they didn’t stop at the hatch for their ship.

Damn Troshky. He’d given him the wrong berth number for Kalon.

They kept going, never once looking behind them. Kalon was in the middle, a brawny, wide-shouldered man around his own height in a silly Terraloft pantsuit similar to the one he wore now.

That was where any similarity to the man ended, as far as he was concerned. Kalon moved heavily, like he’d never walked on planet before. Kalon and his men had no instincts.

They slowed in a part of the corridor that made Guy really regret not sneaking his six-shot aboard. He backed up, Jewel behind him, and leaned into an open berth door. The bay beyond was dark and empty.

“Shh,” he breathed low, barely above thought. Plastered against him, she nodded against his back.

Kalon and his men stopped at the berth for Guy’s hopper.

The tall one drew a weapon as the other popped the console and pulled out a mess of wires. Leave it to
Zuthuru
to have centuries-old tech, making his hopper vulnerable.

Hell and damnation.

At least the matter of breaking and entering caused enough noise to make good cover. He pulled his aero-comm and opened a channel to Quinn.

“The hopper is about to be breeched. Get your ass in the hidey hole.”

“Right away.” Good thing Quinn didn’t question.

“At my signal, pop the cover and get the hell out.” He closed and holstered the comm.

“Who was that?” Jewel’s expression was curious, no sign of recognition of her own father.

“Later, sweetheart. Stay here. Don’t move a muscle until I yell, then run to me.” He ached to kiss her silver lips, to memorize her taste in case everything went straight to hell, but instead he peered into the corridor. The door to his shuttle stuttered open.

“Here. You hold the clothes. I’ll take those.” He popped the lids off the sterityne cafeteen cups and slid against the wall toward the open door of his hopper.

He was a little surprised Jewel didn’t follow. She never used to stay put. She’d always stayed right with him when, as kids, they went trail riding. His stomach pitched and not just from the danger that he could be heading to a severe beating or, more likely, death.

Hands steady, he barreled into the entry, aiming the hot liquid into the faces of the two guards spinning toward him. Amid their screams, he lunged at Kalon, fist aimed straight for his nose. A nice crunch took the edge off.

He yelled, “Now.”

The fake flooring above the hidey-hole popped up, slamming into the shorter guard who toppled over, clutching his red face.

Alarms blared in the hallway.

Quinn stood, Guy’s six-shot in his hand, gesturing the two guards out. Glaring at him, they stilled and wiped brown liquid off their puffy faces. They waited for orders from a bleeding Kalon as they each pulled weapons from beneath jackets.

“Better get out before security gets here.” Guy wished that six-shot was in his hands. He didn’t know if Quinn knew how to turn off the safety, much less use it.

Already, the scuffing of boots echoed down the hall.

Jewel slipped in the door of the now-crowded hopper. Everyone froze, the weapons drawn in the goons’ hands pointed up, away from Jewel, their boss’s
ex-
wife. A chill as cold as space snuck up his spine.

Brows lowered and mouth in a tight line, Kalon stared at Jewel’s neck, the silver collar gleaming as she sidled behind Guy, where none of the other men could see her.

“What did you do to her?” Quinn demanded, his face as gray as the hopper’s hull.

Warring with the urge to go against all he’d upheld as sheriff and pummel Kalon’s face to a pulp, Guy clenched his fists. Several punches might slake the need.

Kalon growled and leaped at him, sailing through the air several feet to wrap his meaty hands around Guy’s neck. Guy brought his leg up and kneed Kalon in the stomach, hard, and they fell to the floor with a crash. Kalon’s heavy, dense body smothered him. Guy’s ears rang. His face filled, thick, swollen, as if it’d explode from lack of air.

Pummeling for all he was worth, he punched the asshole in the side, again and again. The
thunk
against solid flesh satisfied a vicious blood lust and hatred that shocked him, even as he struggled to get out from beneath the man before he got the shit kicked out of him.

The man could take pain. His face contorted but he leaned down, steadfast, putting all his weight into his hands, pressing down on Guy’s windpipe—the same way he’d killed the office manager.

With a surge, Guy thrust his arms between them and pushed up, knocking away Kalon’s hold. The snarling thug lunged at him again.

Guy kicked out, tripping Kalon. They clashed together again amid shouts. Several hands grabbed him from behind and hoisted him away. Kalon spit on the floor in a blood-tinged streak. His nose swollen and still bleeding, Kalon shrugged off the hands of several guards who grabbed him again.

“Stop. That’s enough from the two of you.” A well-armed ranking officer strode between them, slapping a crowd-control bar in his hand. Kalon stepped back and moved around the officer, his guards following.

Guy wiped the sweat from his forehead and glared, wanting the security men out of his way so he could continue beating Kalon. He clenched his bruised fist.

At the door, none of the security personnel trying to stop or question him, Kalon sneered. “Too bad about the Broker. I’ll be seeing you.”

Kalon held all the cards and knew he’d doomed Jewel by stealing her Broker—or breaking it into pieces.

“Bastard,” Guy hissed. His vision blurred red. He tensed to lunge, but bodies pressed around him, keeping him in the hopper and pushing Kalon out. Unable to think past the rage, he flexed his hands and took deep breaths.

The Geanus flunkies spoke with station security in hushed tones.

Like Terraloft did as a matter of course, they’d bribe their way out of breaking into his ship. As long as they left the area with no more trouble, they’d walk straight to their own berth and leave. He couldn’t touch Kalon. Not now. He unclenched his fists.

Jewel wouldn’t be safe until they were away from here.

Quinn stood in the hatch door, arguing their case, pointing accusatory fingers at his former son-in-law. And it was
former.
No matter what, Kalon had no control over Jewel, except through her son. Guy couldn’t let Kalon hurt either of them.

Guy turned to Jewel and hugged her shaking form. She spoke into his chest. “Who were they?”

“Nobody to concern yourself with.”

The door swished shut, cutting off the continued arguments and insults.

“I estimate we have two minutes to get out of here. They have Jared and will be leaving now. If we don’t put some space between us…” Guy shrugged.

“You think he has illegal weapons? That he’d hurt Jewel? Blow us out of the space lanes?” Quinn scowled at the closed hatch.

“I’m sure of it. Strap in. We don’t have much time.”

Quinn peered at Jewel with a sad, heartbroken expression and reached out to her. She flinched away. “You don’t remember me?”

“No.” Her eyes were huge and round. She couldn’t take much more of this without going into shock.

Unable to take the pain evident in the older man, Guy cut the discussion short. “Why did you arrange her marriage to that psychopath?” He went through the motions on the console, getting it ready to disembark.

“I had no idea he’d do something like this.”

“You better get secure. Jewel and I are sneaking off the hopper. Have arrangements on a cruise liner that’ll get us to that doctor you found. If we take the hopper, it’ll take us twice as long and we might run into trouble with Kalon again. You take the ship home. That’s all we can do to fix this mess.”

He didn’t know how else he could help Jewel. He couldn’t get on with his life without trying to get her life back. If she recovered her memories, she’d be more useful, giving him information about her ex, helping them find a way to get the Broker.

Whether Kalon had destroyed the Broker or not, it was out of reach for now. But only for now. He’d track that two-bit, good-for-nothing spacewaste to the ends of the universe. Kalon had to pay for making Jewel a shell of herself, for making her a sex slave. He’d make him pay if it was the last thing he did.

He worked his aching jaw back and forth.

But not today.

Jewel couldn’t help but be more aware of her partner than the promise of her next breath, but Guy didn’t suffer the same. Other than a few disinterested directions, he didn’t speak as he guided her from his ship through the crowded halls with his hand on the small of her back.

The everyday workers, the dockers, the slaves, all glanced at her with varying degrees of hostility or leering laughter, but she didn’t care what they thought. Her master wouldn’t look at her. She couldn’t think of anything she might have done to offend him, but perhaps she didn’t remember all the things she ought. Maybe it had to do with those men he’d fought. She hadn’t understood why they argued over her, and she hadn’t been able to breathe while Guy was in danger. Why didn’t she remember the man who’d been her husband?

It didn’t matter now.

She was Guy’s.

She wiped the angry-faced man from her thoughts and vowed to never think of him again.

“We’re going straight to the cruise liner to await departure. I need to take care of a few loose ends from our stateroom.” He still didn’t look at her.

She squeezed her folded hands together. He’d acted as if he enjoyed her appearance during the claiming. If he’d tired of her already, she’d have to do better next time. Her lips trembled. She just had to.

They entered a tall, expansive waiting area with several lines of terminals. Expensive floral arrangements decorated metal tables with scrollwork leggings placed at even intervals throughout the vast concourse decorated with intricate hangings. Art in a soft watercolor style depicted exotic scenes on the pleasure stops of the NeauFleet. The billboards proclaimed it a company of innumerable space liners and vacation spots known for creating ecosystems to cater to every taste. A large clear window showed the space liner they’d board. A long oval with rows and rows of portals, the ship greatly resembled an egg. She didn’t think she’d been aboard a ship like it, but she couldn’t really know that.

The seats were filled with the aristocracy awaiting departure. No one noticed her. The cruise workers in their fine uniforms of black trousers and velvet double-breasted gold-buttoned suits didn’t acknowledge her in the least.

The enormity of the great hall reminded her of a vast asteroid belt of mining ships, barges and scattered debris. Everywhere, life teemed in busy eddies. She moved closer to Guy, her anchor.

At a podium before the on-ramp, a thin man took Guy’s papers and scanned them for verification. She had no identification beyond the circlet about her neck.

“I require a no-disturb chamber seal for the duration of the trip.” Guy still hadn’t looked at her, but his voice soothed over her tremors. He fiddled with the silver bracelet, turning it around his wrist.

“Very good, sir. Proof of ownership of the silver-tip is required for boarding.” Without looking up, the man touched buttons on the slim panel in front of him.

Guy lifted his wrist to her neck and the hum of the communication between devices ran hot tingles all over. Her nipples pebbled and her stomach tightened. Toes curling in her slippers, she shuddered.

A sharp breath beside her preceded a rich furling desire that stirred deep in her core. Her master desired her. Smiling, she eagerly anticipated her duty. Before she could reach over to stroke the bulge in his pants, he gripped her arm. After retrieving his boarding documents and guiding her up the plank beneath the wide entry, he bent to whisper in her ear, his hot words blowing shivers down her nerve endings. “Wait for the room, love.”

Dropping his fingers to tangle in hers, he pulled her after him.

She’d wait for the room, and then she’d ease his needs. She licked her dry lips and ached to press them to his flesh, but she followed in his wake and kept the deeply seated compulsion in a low simmer. The unavoidable instinct to give him release made her stomach pitch and eyes water, but he’d ordered her. She’d obey.

In her focus on Guy, the search for their chambers was a blur. Other than boldly colorful tapestries, intricate chandeliers and elegantly dressed men and women moving along the wide corridors, she noted the passing of the doors, anxiously awaiting the one that’d give her the permission to please her master.

They entered a large stateroom with a flick of his thumb over the lock. She reached for his britches with her shaking grasp. Dodging her caress, he plopped her into an armchair.

“Stay.” A scowl on his sharp features, he grumbled and backed away.

He sat across from her in a small seating area at the side of the lavish room, which held a large bed, a stocked bar and an armoire open to reveal the latest vid-screen and other tech consoles. Before he got settled, Guy jumped up and strode to the bar, his long strides determined. The clinging material of his outfit showed his strong legs and tight behind. Her mouth watered, and she imagined running her hand through the dark hair brushing the top of his collar.

Ice clinked as he, still silent, made his drink. She wrenched her attention away from his tense wide shoulders because, if she stared at his indifference any longer, the stirring in her stomach would sour. The room was grand, a wonderful place to spend alone with her master for the next few days for their new bond to take hold. Though she didn’t need time. She was thoroughly bound.

Tapestries covered every surface in splendor, no amount of the metallic hull visible, even around the large picture window that showed the dock and the people scurrying to board. The wealthy in their fine adornments walked up the ramp, all smiles and relaxed. Below, barely visible on the loading deck filled with mech-barges carrying baggage and supplies, the workaday boarded the lower levels with harried expressions as they crowded into the limited space.

A familiarity of that scene, and a sense Guy’d be comfortable in such a crowd, brushed against a wall inside her. An almost tangible force that she quickly understood to be her former life. She didn’t resent the wall but accepted its presence.

With a crystal glass, its amber liquid sloshing in the ice, Guy crossed to the armoire, threw open the doors and accessed a console that he worked on for long moments. He shot her a glance, all business—closed off from her. “Getting updates on an investigation and making arrangements for our travel.”

Whatever he’d done, his expression didn’t change as he sat across from her again. Everything else fell away. The room, the people outside, the wall in her mind, all forgotten with a blink to be replaced with a curling excitement to be with the handsome man who was her life.

“We need to talk.” Guy blew out a long breath and leaned forward. The glass held loosely in one hand propped on a knee, the other ran through his hair and stayed there, clutching at the thick healthy strands with their sun-kissed streaks. He dropped his hand to dangle off his knee and stared at the plush woven rug.

Time stretched as she waited. The lull built into an aching pressure on her chest. She gasped. He finally looked up from the floor to give her a pitying once-over before his face hardened into a scowl again. She didn’t please him. Her cheeks grew hot.

“You don’t remember me, but I’ve known you for most of your life.”

She blinked rapidly, her thoughts whirling. The wall in her mind seemed more real, a tangible block, when scant moments ago it’d been a whisper, a nonentity with no emotion attached to it. The heat in her cheeks cooled so fast, she shivered with the chill.

“Don’t be frightened,” Guy insisted. “I’ll always take care of you. Always.”

His complexion, full of life and deeply bronzed from time spent planet-side, paled considerably. He put his drink down on a side table, crossed his arms and slouched back in his chair with legs spread wide.

“This will take a few minutes to explain. You need to stay over there while I do it and don’t look so vulnerable while you’re at it. Don’t cry or touch me, or I’ll never make it through this.” He sounded angry, but his words steadied her.

“Your name is Jewel Quinn. Or it was. You have a married name now, Geanus. You left our home world five years ago, and I hadn’t heard a word about you since. Your father expected you home yesterday. Said you left your husband and were bringing your young son home.”

“Son.” Jewel blinked again, hard.

A dark premonition, like a gray fog, reached across the room, but when Guy didn’t react, she shivered, dreaded the truth that she saw things that weren’t there. No question it existed only in her mind, along with the pounding that reverberated inside her skull.

The nonentity, a whispery mental block, solidified. The partition in her memories vibrated like a drum’s skin.

His lips moving, Guy watched her closely with slanted brows, but she didn’t hear his words over the buzzing in her ears. She gripped her head and closed her eyes.

A loud pop joined the drum for one heart-stopping moment, and then a fleeting vision, like a pinprick in a parchment paper, let the sun through.

The drum in her head stopped abruptly. She jolted in the chair.

“Jared,” she whispered. “My son’s name.”

“You can’t know that.” He sounded harsh, and his features drew tight in lines around a frown. He softened his voice. “Your memories are wiped. Maybe I’ve rushed you. You must be tired.”

“I don’t know my son, what he looks like, nothing but his name.” She couldn’t stop sounding like a child seeking comfort. Arms wrapped around her belly, she fought the ache to join Guy, to crawl into his lap and feel his arms around her, but he’d commanded her to stay.

“Perhaps the mind-wipe isn’t as complete as I’d thought,” Guy replied, distant, as his gaze lost focus.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Not only didn’t he want her to ease his passionate needs, perhaps because she didn’t please him sexually, but she’d somehow become flawed as well. Broken. Maybe because she’d been married.

All she could do was sit and wait for him to tell her what to do, how to act. Along with the small pinprick in the dam of her memories—she sensed that was what it was—a fraction of identity crept into her. Without a doubt, as short a time ago as yesterday, she’d disallowed a man from owning her. Yet today, she ached to be owned, held and told what to feel.

Guy’s attention snapped back to her. “I’m waiting on a report about your husband. Well, your ex-husband. Legally you became unmarried when they wiped your mind.” He was still speaking to her in a remote fashion, as if he were a news hologram reporter.

“Unmarried.” She tried the word on her tongue but didn’t have a response. Nothing. No twinge of remorse, no hint of connection, no drum beating her senseless.

“Your father sent communiqués to pave the way for us. We have an appointment with a Dr. Wells. He’ll check you out and try to remove your memory block.”

Another chill swept through her, and she wished she could go to bed, forget the torment that tugged in every direction, but she couldn’t sleep anyway, not with the unappeased lust she’d sensed in Guy. That lack in her duty started as a dull ache in her belly, but it throbbed in a slowly gathering tempest. Soon, according to the instruction given her by the silver-tipping technician, her compulsion would cause her real mental and physical agony. Sleep would be impossible.

“Why?” she croaked, not really asking why he planned to have her memory returned, but why he wasn’t at this moment allowing her to fulfill his sexual fantasies.

He was her reason for being.

“For one, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get your son back unless you can tell me what happened to you over the last few days.” A crack in his demeanor showed, and his stare caught her, searched her for reaction.

She licked her lips. “A mother should want her son.”

She should, but somehow she was flawed. Wouldn’t a mother feel for her child, no matter what had happened to her mind?

Beyond the pain of the leaked memory moments ago, she couldn’t find anything inside her except the yearning to hold Guy. She clenched the silk of her wrap. She needed to get through this discussion quickly and move on. Get in that lush bed that drew her attention almost as much as the man in front of her. “And?”

“Secondly…” He paused, a clear look of pity on his face. “You’re not you. Without your memories, you’re not the woman I’ve known. You can’t make decisions for yourself. It’s a crime what they did to you, and I’m a sheriff in our world. It’s my duty to see that you get the help you need. You’ll never have your whole life back, but I’ll be damned if I can’t free you to a degree. At least, everything that’s in my power to do, to give you something back. Without the Broker, you’ll never be able to live without me, but maybe the doctor can help with that, too.”

All she heard in that speech, all she could understand, absolutely floored her.

A tiny spark of rebellion leaked out before she could stop it. “If you don’t want me, why did you claim me?”

She wished the question back. She didn’t want the answer. She couldn’t face his rejection.

Guy jerked his chin and shot to his feet to pace, but not before she glimpsed his frown as he glanced down her body to her cleavage and licked his lips.

His short strides to the bar and back, over and over, accentuated the truth. The erection in his clinging pants proved he lusted for her body, and the flow of desire from her collar didn’t lie. That was enough for her. Their bodies spoke to each other. Unaware she’d sat with a rigid, straight posture, she relaxed back in the chair and let the tension ease away. Though the ache in her middle grew stronger, his reaction assured her she’d be allowed to wrap him in sexual release. Soon.

“When you disappeared on your way home, your father asked me to find you. I did. You were to be sold to a shadow bidder. I bought you instead. Because…” He flushed and his chin dipped. He’d told her they’d known each other. She didn’t doubt it because she recognized his reaction. The next words from his mouth would be a lie. “But I won’t use you like that.”

After clearing his throat, he continued. His steady gaze held hers. He was about to speak the truth. “Because I wouldn’t hurt you, and I will do everything, give everything, to help you.”

The ache rode her hard.

He wanted to use her, but he didn’t want to hurt her.