Chapter 41
“You’re awake.”Cyra forced herself to smile, entering Dez’s recovery room. He was ashy gray and his eyes were dull. Tube and wires had him so trussed up, she wasn’t sure where to focus. Not on his missing hand. Tears pricked her eyes, but he shouldn’t have to see her crying. “How are you feeling?”
“They are taking good care of me. I’ll be fine.” There was hardening in his jaw. “Why are you still here?”
Cyra stepped back, shocked by his tone. Dez had never spoken to her so coldly. “I…you…I wanted to thank you for saving the ship.”
“No one was harmed? The ship is intact?” His eyes were almost as lifeless as in her nightmare.
“You were harmed.” She ached to touch him, to run her hand along his bald head, to offer some kind of comfort, but she feared he would shut her out, exactly like she had done the night before they landed. Why had she let her emotions keep them apart when it was their last chance to be together? She would regret that forever.
“My injuries are not your concern any longer. You have completed your contract. And you have other deliveries to make.”
She crossed her arms to keep from reaching for him. “What about when I next go to Din’Gale? What am I supposed to tell your family?”
“Tell them I found a good position and don’t you dare tell them I’m injured.”
Cyra glanced at where his hand used to be. There was no way she was that good a liar.
“Did you get a delivery contract from…what’s his name?” Dez asked.
“Derrain?”
Dez nodded with a tiny movement. How could he ask her that? How could he talk about business as if he wasn’t nearly killed? As if this wasn’t the last time she might see him alive? Her heart ripped in her chest as if it was trying to free itself from her body so it wouldn’t have to suffer this loss.
“I don’t care about a contract. I care about you.”
“I was only ever a contract. An item to be delivered. It’s done. You should go.”
“But—”
“Go, Captain. See to your crew and your contracts. I need to rest, if I’m going to heal.” Dez turned his head and closed his eyes.
She didn’t move, staring at the man she’d fallen in love with. She’d spent all that time denying it, and in that moment she realized how stupid she’d been, how much time she’d wasted.
“Mr. Cuocua? I’m here to change your bandage.” The med tech wheeled in a cart of supplies.
“Leave.” Dez glared at her. “I don’t want you here.” He turned back to the tech, ignoring her.
She stumbled for the door, grateful he wouldn’t see the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she left the room.
A few meters down the hall, two uniformed medics conferred over a portable comm screen. “Patient in room six isn’t healing as expected.”
“Isn’t he Din’Galian?” The second tech asked, tapping her finger against the screen.
Cyra shifted closer.
“That’s odd. We’re seeing an elevated white count. Sure sign of infection. Are you sure he’s unmated? Check his contract.”
She scrolled again. “Broker’s report states unmated. He should be halfway to healed, not getting worse.”
“Let’s run a full endocrine panel.”
Cyra walked briskly past them as if she hadn’t been eavesdropping. Unmated. Infection. Getting worse. The eavesdropped words ricocheted through her brain, tearing her apart. Dez was dying because of her and he didn’t want her anymore. She didn’t feel the cold as she exited the building and took the borrowed vehicle back to The Treasure.
“Cyr?” Veda met Cyra at the entrance to the cargo bay.
“Have the crates been loaded?”
Veda’s hands went to her hips. “Did you see Dez? Did you speak to him.”
“I did.” The words were heavy and Cyra barely go them out. “But I need to know if the cargo has been loaded.”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Dez.” Veda gripped Cyra’s upper arm. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I saw him, okay? He kicked me out of the room and told me to leave. I have to check on the cargo. Get authorization to launch. There’s nothing else I can do here.” Fuck. Tears erupted again. “So let me do my job.” She wrenched out of Veda’s hold and ignored the gasp of her friend. In the far recesses of the cargo hold, she found the six crates of ore that were bound for Morgual. Close to Din’Gale. Where she could collect another load of produce and admit how she’d left Dez to die. Cyra slid down the wall and let all the tears flow. Tears she didn’t deserve. Dez had been the one to sacrifice. Not her.
Princess whined in her crate. All alone. She’d lost her pack and her trainer. Cyra dragged herself over to the kennel and opened the door to comfort the puppy.
“Captain?” Rhysa’s voice roused Cyra from where she’d fallen asleep against the cold metal floor of the cargo bay. Princess was curled up, asleep in her nest of blankets. Cyra’s muscles protested against her effort to stand. “We have authorization to launch.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Rhysa left without comment, thank goodness. Cyra stopped at her quarters and splashed her face with water. Dragged a comb through her hair and decided her uniform wasn’t too wrinkled.
Rhysa raised The Treasure well above the flight lines in preparation to launch. Cyra let all her sadness and regret flow through her and placed her hands on the launch sensors.
Nothing happened.
The ship didn’t even quiver.
Bodi glanced over, concern in her gaze.
“Ready when you are, Captain.” Rhysa repeated.
Cyra channeled the memories of making love to Dez, but found only more sadness and even shame. She’d let him go. Left him injured and alone. She tried getting angry at herself, at Varik for planting the bomb, even at Dez for sending her away. All she got was failure. “I can’t do this. Set us down. Report mechanical issues.”
“Captain?” Veda’s voice broke through Cyra’s frustrated thoughts.
“What?” She yelled at Veda and instantly regretted it. Her friend had done nothing to earn her ire. “I’m sorry, Veda. What do you need?”
“It’s not what I need, Captain. It’s what you need. As your medical officer, I’m concerned about your mental state.”
“My mental state? What are you going to do? Lock me up and medicate me?”
“No. I’m going to issue you a prescription.”
“What? You never recommend drugs.”
“This isn’t for drugs. It’s a prescription for love and you need to fill it. Or I will lock you up and file a mental report.”
“Veda, that’s ridiculous. ‘A prescription for love’ or you lock me up. Get serious.”
“I’m completely serious. You need to go get Dez. Do whatever you have to do. Beg, cry, suck his cock. I don’t really care. You are being an insane idiot to try to leave the planet without him. Even the ship knows better and it’s inanimate. The only one who doesn’t acknowledge the truth is you. That, by definition, makes you insane.”
Cyra looked around the deck at the rest of her crew. They were all focused on her and no one breathed a word of dissent against Veda’s diagnosis. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll be in my tank.”
Cyra darted down the hallway certain that the crew was figuring out how to commit mutiny. But they hadn’t seen Dez’s glare, heard him when he’d banished her, felt the vacuum of space that existed between them. The water served to slow her heart and clear her head. It absorbed her tears without demanding answers or actions. She floated until she found peace. And with it came the answer. The only sane solution to an insane enigma.
She left the tank and went straight to her quarters. After several searches, she found the documents she required and completed them. With brief instructions to Veda as to what to do next, Cyra was free to return to Dez and beg his forgiveness, no matter how long it took.