Chapter Twenty-one
Charity was beginning to gain the ability to straighten from the agony of Wilkes’ brutal blow when he landed the shuttle. She’d damned near puked from the punch. She would have given in and done so, but the idea of spewing on Wilkes later, when the opportunity might present itself, held greater appeal.
He’d hurt her eventually. Probably badly. She’d seen his excitement, the telltale bulge of his crotch. His attack would include the act that allowed weak men to feel powerful when it came to harming women. He’d probably do so before help arrived, if it ever did.
Charity didn’t kid herself. Ilid, Detodev, and Mitag hadn’t witnessed him abducting her. The mayhem at the theater had seen to it.
“You set the fire,” she grunted.
“Some friends of mine, but it was my idea. Worked like a charm. As soon as I knew you’d be at the show, it was easy to figure out how to capture you.” He gloated as he released the seat restraint on her but not the cuffs. She considered trying to headbutt him. It would be out of pure spite and cost more than it was worth. She’d probably be knocked unconscious against his Cro-Magnon skull.
His grip tight around her throat, diminishing her airflow to a trickle, would have kept her at bay in any case. Proving her suspicions of his plans for her, his free hand groped her breasts. It hurt, and she ground her teeth together. Not against the pain, but to keep from spitting at him. Her fury took no prisoners, but her abused stomach insisted it couldn’t handle another punch.
“I’ll have so much fun with you on our way to New Bethlehem,” he breathed. “Come on, whore, give me a taste of the screams I’ll hear when I make you pay for your sins. Let me hear it.” He brutally squeezed her breast, and she couldn’t stop a moan or tears from springing to her eyes. “I said, let me hear it!”
He twisted her flesh. She screamed at the sharp lance of agony as best her restricted airway allowed. The tears burst their dams and spilled down her cheeks. Wilkes looked euphoric when he relented.
“Better. This is only a preview of the earsplitting shrieks you’ll sing later, but it’ll do for now.” He turned bestial again. “A few of my associates are waiting. They need to see a properly submissive slut ready to pay for her transgressions. Get any ideas about fighting me in front of them, and I won’t keep you for myself. We’ll take turns. Understood?”
The hectic light in his eyes told Charity he wasn’t bluffing. She hating folding to his demands. Hated it. However, behaving as a frightened victim might lower Wilkes’ watchfulness and give her a chance to escape.
Charity wheezed, “Yes.”
He released her throat. Her whole being concentrated on drawing air into her depleted lungs. While she focused on oxygen, Wilkes snatched her from the seat and hauled her to the rear cabin, where he stood her up. When she wobbled, he snarled, “Fall, and I’ll kick you through the hatch.”
Charity swallowed a furious retort. He was the idiot who’d placed her in an unsteady position, which she couldn’t alter thanks to the cuffs freezing her feet. She bit her lips together and remembered her sister Hope once telling her, “I wonder if you’ll ever learn the art of self-preservation. You couldn’t stop your mouth running if it had an off-switch.”
Shows what you know. If I live through this, I’ll demand an apology.
A wave of grief hit her as she wondered if she’d see Hope again. If she did, she’d do the apologizing for being such a brat all these years.
In the seconds it took to remind herself she had to stay alert to the here and now rather than swimming in too-late regret, Wilkes ordered her ankle cuffs released and stowed them on his belt. “Let’s catch our ride off this hellbent planet. Hatch, open.” When it obeyed, he gave Charity a rude shove. “March.”
Her head bowed, both to watch her feet so she wouldn’t fall and to hide the burst of hatred twisting her features, Charity obeyed. She waited until she reached the tall grass-covered ground before lifting her gaze. She peered through strands of hair that had fallen forward.
She almost cried out when she saw the barn. Its shape was so similar to Clan Amgar’s, for an instant she thought she was on their farm. Its decay asserted itself as her eyes adjusted to night’s gloom, alleviated a little by the few lights set around the building. Her heart sank as she noted the sagging and warped boards and rusting farm implements scattered like offerings to a rustic temple.
Three men approached, none of whom she recognized. They wore blasters on their hips. Their expressions were grimly triumphant as they stared at her. “Good. You got her.”
“Where are the rest, Eastman?” Wilkes’ tone was suspicious.
The farm-hardened man who stood in the middle of the trio spoke. “Grabbed by Kalquorian law enforcement in the theater. We three managed to escape in the confusion.”
“Kalq enforcement? I didn’t see any officers there. I know every damned one of their faces.”
The man shrugged. “We set the fires, had them burning proper, then they were suddenly emerging from the smoke. They must have been hiding nearby and watching for trouble.”
Charity felt rather than saw Wilkes start. His grip on her tightened, and she knew what he suspected: Groteg had set guards to watch over her while she attended the show.
The conspirator reporting continued his account. “If it hadn’t gone up so quick, they would have gotten us all. As it is, we probably need to lay low and leave Haven as soon as the heat dies down. I’m pretty sure they got a good look at us. Probably recognized us too.”
The man on his right added, “If you hadn’t snagged her, it woulda been for nothing. You owe us.”
“You’ll be paid your share since I did get her.” Wilkes squeezed her arm until Charity moaned, eliciting smirks from the conspirators. “In a few minutes she’ll be out of their reach.”
“Better be. We made sure we weren’t followed. You?”
“Of course I wasn’t.”
The third man said, “I thought I heard a distant shuttle engine when you shut yours off. No sign of one I can see.” He shuffled and searched the sky uneasily, then the stand of nearby trees. He drew his blaster. “No time to celebrate. Better take her off the planet pronto. We’ll stick around long enough to hold off anyone who might come along, then we’re doing our own disappearing act.”
“I told you, nobody followed me.” Despite his determined tone, Wilkes began dragging Charity toward the barn. She had no choice but to stagger along. She did so as clumsily as possible to slow their progress.
Perhaps the man who’d alleged he’d heard another shuttle had spooked Wilkes. He appeared not to notice Charity deliberately making their trip to the building more difficult. He was intent on looking over his shoulder at a nearby stand of trees. The shadows concealed if anyone watched. The other men were jumpy too. They all held their weapons, no longer bothering to gloat at her capture.
Charity gained some small satisfaction in the news a few co-conspirators had been caught setting fire to the theater, endangering innocent lives in their madness to abduct her. She wondered if Groteg had been among the officers. A lump formed in her throat. Despite her obstinate refusal to leave Haven, the Nobek had gone to great lengths to protect her. His failure to do so didn’t change the fact her safety had been his priority. She hoped she’d get the chance to offer her gratitude and ask his forgiveness for her combative attitude.
I made the right decision when I decided to stay. None of this changes that. The chance she’d had to remain among Ilid, Detodev, Mitag, and Clan Amgar restrained her from descending into sheer despair.
She blinked in surprise when Wilkes yanked her in the barn. Its outward decrepitude was a mask for what waited inside.
Metallic walls heightened the soft lighting so it was daylight bright. Only a single object occupied the vast space, but it was impressive on its own: a small zip flyer for two, its slender torpedo shape pointed upward toward what she recognized to be a retractable roof.
Zips were tiny, barely comfortable, but they were space worthy and phenomenally fast. Too fast for most vessels to catch once the zips reached top speed. They were also hard to track. If Wilkes got her on board, if they lifted off before the protective patrols orbiting Haven knew they should be watching for such a vessel, there was little chance the zip would be caught prior to reaching its destination of New Bethlehem.
She couldn’t let Wilkes put her on the ship.
“Retract the roof hatch,” Wilkes called as he propelled her toward the zip. The voice-activated mechanism obeyed, opening the barn to the star-strewn sky with a low hum.
Continuing to play the part of beaten hostage, Charity allowed Wilkes to push her halfway across the metallic floor, leaving his cohorts at the barn door to watch for trouble. Then she went on the offense. The hovercuffs on her wrists prevented her from swinging, but her feet were free. She took full advantage, waiting for Wilkes’ closest foot to step down. When it did, she stomped her two-inch heel on it.
He was wearing boots. She doubted she did any real damage, but enough of the blow got through to make him yelp and stumble. Charity aimed her next kick at his knee and connected. Her balance wasn’t the greatest, but she managed to put some force behind her attempt. It sent the surprised Earthtique to all fours.
Charity kicked off one pump quickly for a steadier stance. She drove the other in his ribs. The men at the door were yelling at him to control her as she continued to kick with all she had. As she laid into him, she glanced around desperately for a second exit, hoping for an unguarded escape route.
Wilkess’ shouts signaled pain, but it was his cohorts’ demands that shifted to startled, then frightened screams. Charity paused her assault to toss a glance toward them. She gaped to discover they were under attack.
Ilid, Detodev, and Mitag had come for her. They fought Wilkes’ buddies for the blasters the Earthtiques wore. Her lovers had rushed to her rescue, though her stunned senses insisted they couldn’t be there.
Charity unleashed a banshee shriek. The sound was part triumph, part elation to see the men who filled her heart to bursting.
She fought the urge to run to them. Instead, she aimed another kick at Wilkes, who was still on the ground. She’d delayed too long, however, allowing him to catch his breath. He grasped her ankle and shoved her leg upward, knocking her off her feet and on her ass. Her remaining pump flew from her foot, spinning through the air.
Wilkes stood in an instant, his features twisted in a desperate snarl. Before Charity could react, he grabbed her. He slung her over his shoulder and raced for the zip.
“Ilid! Detodev!” she screamed, trying to rise to look at them. Her thick hair covered her eyes, impeding her vision.
But not her hearing. A blaster went off, and a deep voice shrieked. She couldn’t tell who’d been hit. She frantically shook her head to clear her sightline.
It was too late. Wilkes abruptly flung her off his shoulder. She landed hard and found herself in the cockpit of the zip, on the far seat as Wilkes clambered in behind her.
“No!” She flew at the hatch beyond his bulk.
His palm smacked her cheek and drove the side of her face against the wall of the cabin. He held her there and shoved her legs in the footwell beneath the control panel. The partition between the leg spaces of the two seats kept her from kicking him, her sole defense with her head pinned and her arms held prisoner by the cuffs.
“Hatch, closed! Engine, ignition! Full thrust!”
A disembodied electronic voice spoke disinterestedly. “Full thrust from landing pad is discouraged due to security protocols. Do you accept full legal responsibility for any injuries sustained by passengers and those outside—”
“Yes! Fucking go!” Wilkes’ tone had gone high-pitched from emotion.
“No! Power down engines!” Charity’s own voice was slurred, thanks to her lips being smooshed to the side by the pressure of her abductor’s hand. If he pushed any harder, he’d break her jaw.
Whether because her words were garbled or the zip was keyed to obey Wilkes alone, the vessel ignored her. She was abruptly slammed to the back of her seat as it shot from its pad. Her captor’s hand slid off her face. It was also pinned, wide like a starfish next to her head. No matter. She couldn’t move against the gravitational force as the zip shot off the ground.
In seconds, they were hurtling into space.