Chapter 21 - Ulterior Motives
Ulterior Motives
“He could have finished making dinner first,” Khrys grumbles, picking at the goop on her plate.
Devyaan, upon seeing Julian, had abandoned dinner and dragged the man to his cabin.
He hadn’t, however, told anyone, nor had he put the simmering food aside either.
What was intended to be a pie of some sort is instead burnt crust, a mush of vegetables and rock-hard meat pellets.
If Khrys hadn’t popped her head in, the AllPrep would have reduced it to soup.
Beau reaches over and boops Khrys on the nose. “It was in the name of love, you grump.”
“Lust, you mean.”
“You say tomato...”
She looks incredulous. “You have never been in love.”
“I fall in love every day, wench.” Beau grins and leans back in their chair, looking for all the world like a handsome imp. “You’re just jealous.”
“Sure.”
“Marlowe, tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
“That falling in love is easy. She’s so cynical, it’s depressing. God knows why; she’s got a cracking brain and a hip-to-waist ratio that’s depressing.”
I laugh. Falling in love is easy—it’s everything else about it that’s difficult.
Khrys flips Beau off, and they segue into a topic I don’t try to follow.
I haven’t had the chance to ask Tanisira about the hotel room, and it’s eating at me.
I figure she needed some time to herself because she disappeared soon after the ship left Novus.
I tried to nap, but my thoughts just kept spinning. Vee, however, is out like a light.
I leave the galley; not knowing where I’m going, just that I need to be somewhere else. But I end up on the observation deck and realise I’d been heading there the whole time.
Arms against the railing, head bowed, Tanisira looks so deep in thought that it almost feels cruel to interrupt her.
But I can’t let myself think about this much longer.
She doesn’t react when I approach, giving me time to think about what I want to say.
No matter how I put it, I’ll be incriminating myself more than I already have.
In the end, I just keep it simple: “Was it Samiran?”
Tanisira’s shoulders tense a moment before she faces me. The lights are dimmed, and in shadow, her features are harsh. “Yes.”
I flinch. Curl my fingers into my palms. Gather myself, though it’s not easy.
“And did you—”
I cut myself off. It’s so hard to ask. Hard to ask because I had no right to snoop, and I have no right to be jealous. My skin crawls. I suddenly don’t think I can do this. Where do I get off asking Tanisira about her love life? She doesn’t owe me anything.
Her words come back to me: ‘I think we owe each other a lot, actually.’ But I hadn’t agreed with her on that, had I?
I repeat it under my breath, tasting the words, testing them out.
Do we owe each other? I can’t deny—not to my brain, nor my heart—that we have something.
We barely know each other, yet I trust her with my son, my safety, my body.
Fuck it. We do owe each other. “Did you sleep with her?”
I’m glad I can’t see her. Hearing her huff of astonishment makes me cringe as it is.
“Why would you—” Now it’s Tanisira’s turn to falter. “Oh.”
She steps towards me but stops, and my pulse flits like a frightened bird. “You did, didn’t you?” I ask.
“Of course I didn’t.”
The vice on my chest loosens. The ability to take a full breath is so sudden, I almost gasp. I have to take a second to steel my voice, not trusting it to come out steady. “What do you mean by ‘of course’?”
“You think I’d do that?”
“Haven’t we just proved that I don’t really know you? She’s perfect, Tee.”
Now it’s Tanisira’s turn to flinch; a full-body movement that I can practically feel. Guilt courses through me; she doesn’t deserve to be accused just because I have issues believing I could be enough for anyone.
“You do know me. What I told you, what you saw today—that’s not who I am. I used to run in that world, and as a last resort, I used old connections to get more medication. I hated going back there, I hated being anywhere near Ryker, but I’d do it again to make sure you have what you need.”
My heart twists. I didn’t even think about how hard it must have been for her to use those connections.
“I would never ask you to—”
“No, you wouldn’t have. I made that decision. I’m not blaming you, I’m just telling you that I would do it again. For you, Marlowe, I’m realising that I would do a lot.”
My stomach dips, and I stare even though her face is still limned in darkness.
No one’s ever said anything like that to me.
Even the people who were supposed to love me because I was their daughter had their limits.
It feels like too much and not enough—but if Tanisira were to promise me ‘anything’ I don’t think I could bear it.
I choose to derail the conversation so I can recover from my tender heart.
“Why did it have to be her?”
“She was docked on Novus for a few days, and I needed someone to act as decoy. That’s all.
I mean it when I say I have nothing to do with my past; that means no one knows me now, what I do, or who I’m associated with.
I didn’t want to lead anyone to the Midas, to you.
I asked Samiran to dress like me, be my decoy and mislead any lurkers. ”
At some point, one of us must have gravitated towards the other because she’s unbearably close. I itch to reach out and touch her, even though this is a woman who needs a decoy on a layover. That’s not normal.
But she’s also thoughtful and loyal. I don’t have the mental fortitude to ask her where the money for my expensive meds came from.
What I do have is a bourgeoning kind of hope that scares me.
I sag, releasing the rest of the tension in my body.
It feels so good that I waver, my overtaxed muscles like wet clay.
Tanisira draws me in, and I go willingly, suddenly so very, very tired.
She exhales deeply, and it tickles my temple. “I haven’t had my head straight since the Bright Star. I can’t stop seeing that gun against your neck.”
I tense up again. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to talk about it. The feel of that metal, cold against my skin—
“I’m okay,” I say softly, even though I’m not sure I am. And then I press a kiss to her shoulder, warm and solid. I can feel rather than see that she changed clothes; the rough disguise replaced with the uniform I’ve come to know by touch alone.
She shudders.
I kiss her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, her cheek, her ear.
I rise onto my tiptoes and kiss her temple, moving over to the other side and back down to her jaw.
I pause, mouth ghosting along hers. My blood rushes through my body.
My skin feels hot. I’m still exhausted, but now that my irrational fears are dispelled, the realisation that we could have died today is like a shot of caffeine. Several, in fact.
Tanisira’s breath washes over me, her body welcoming like a flame. I flutter against her, sliding my hands under her T-shirt and trying to meet those eyes in the dark. It’s always so much easier in the dark. Why can’t I spill myself in the light?
“Marlowe,” she whispers. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
My hands spasm against her back. “Please just kiss me.”
It’s slow and warm and everything I need from her right now. I don’t even know I’m crying until she wipes the tears away.
“Come on,” she says, gently pulling me along. “Let’s go to bed.”
I halt, jerking her to a stop too. When she turns back, I can finally see her face, and it’s almost sheepish. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I’ll—”
I shake my head, intercepting her. That’s not why I stopped. “Why me?”
At first, she’s confused, then her eyes soften. “You mean over Samiran?”
I don’t trust my voice, so I just nod. I didn’t tell Tanisira that I don’t want to share her with anyone—and that’s on me—so she had every right to sleep with Samiran. It would have been easy. So really, why me?
“Let me show you,” Tanisira says. There’s smoke in her voice, heat in her eyes, and gentleness in her hands. I allow her to lead me to her cabin.
She undresses me with care. I close my eyes and relax into it; every item of clothing removed like a match against my skin anyway.
Bared, I lie back on the bed and watch her disrobe.
There’s no urgency—I need this: a slow molasses quality to every moment.
My eyes feel heavy, but my pulse races. Lazily, I admire the sleek lines of her figure, the curves that feel so right in my hands, and the strength that she restrains.
At first, when she presses me into her body, I’m confused.
Desire licks at my blood, but Tanisira curls up behind me instead of sliding over me, forming a cradle out of her embrace.
The fingers of one hand draw a pattern along my shoulder, soft and fleeting, rhythmic.
She doesn’t try to kiss me or touch me beyond that.
“What are you doing?” I ask. The words sound drowsier than I planned.
Having pushed my hair aside, she lets her mouth rasp along my ear. “This is why it’s you, Marlowe. Because I’ve never wanted to lie like this with anyone, skin to skin, feeling their heartbeat, appreciating how alive they are in my arms. Feeling grateful that I get to taste them.”
I shiver, back arching against Tanisira.
“That’s...” I can’t even string words together.
“I’ve never been so scared to lose someone the way I was today. It’s terrifying how much I already care about you and Vee, how much time I spend thinking about you. Even if docking at Red Horizon is the last time we see each other, there’s no turning back from this.”