Chapter 12
Izzy
“Not by choice,” he says, grudgingly.
“I know I should fear you, beg from you, and I guess I have, during sex, but…” I smooth my hand over my knee, eye his body where he’s rocked up next to me like he’s glued there. “But I have nothing else, no one else to ask for help from. You.” I raise my eyes and lock onto his. “You’re my only hope,” I smile weakly, “Obi Wan.”
He picks up my hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses the back before he nips two of my fingers. “You don’t trust me.”
“No.” I shrug. “Not exactly. How could I?”
He grunts. “I wouldn’t. That Star Wars quote though, it slipped under my defense system.”
“You mean I torpedoed the weak point left by your bad engineers and hit your reactor core?”
“Yeah. That.” This time he laughs. “I should be groaning. I kept telling myself I should leave you for the wolves.”
Wolves. Oh no. That can’t be good.
“Kept? Past tense?”
“There’s the writer in you, picking up grammar stuff.” Then he adds slowly, “I cannot guarantee anything about anything. I have things in motion, and nothing is certain. You may be collateral damage.”
That’s vague, but it thuds in and hurts my chest so badly I’m rubbing where it aches. Anxiety, I suppose.
He’s being vague because saying he will help me might be overheard. Did we say anything bad that might implicate him, during that torrid sex? We might have?
“How do I get a proper answer from you?”
Direct enough but still vague, I hope.
He’s silent for so long I fear he’s not going to answer, when someone bangs on the door.
“Here!” It opens and a big plastic bag is thrown in. Then towels. Ironically, the white-and-gold towels appear to be superb quality.
“Clothes.” He stands then rubs his chin, looks at the shower. “Go over there. Turn it on. You can dress after.”
“After?” But he’s walked away. Then it clicks. I understand.
He means for the noise to shield our conversation. Giddiness overtakes me. He’s going to say something he thinks will make Montez hate him. It must be that.
I sit against the wall, near enough for the noise of the water to be loud but not close enough to get more than a little wet. If they have a pinhole cam, I guess this will still look suspicious. Adelmo must have thought that through?
He dries himself quickly, dresses in pants and underwear before coming over and tossing me both towels.
“Use those to keep warm. Dress after we chat. There’s a dress in there for you. No panties or bra though.” He drops the plastic bag behind him before he squats then arranges himself to sit across from me, facing the wall.
“Use these to keep warm?”
“The dress is pretty thin.”
So I drape the towels around me and sit on them. They’re huge, soft, and fluffy, if a little damp already. I’m guessing, from the way he studies my breasts, he also wants me naked, or mostly naked, for a little longer. That is reassuring. I need him to want me. I even want him to want me. I smirk and hide my amusement by fussing with the towel.
Fuck, this is complicated.
I bite the bullet first and ask a question. “What do you want to say?”
“Something I shouldn’t. I’ve never let anything interfere with a job, and I can’t fail this one. Failing means more people than you will die. One of them is…” he shakes his head. “I have to draw the line somewhere.”
There is no point in pretending. I’d rather know what he is really doing. Or I think I do? I summon courage and meet his eyes. “If this is that important to you, why are you even thinking of”—I lean forward to say this extra quietly—“keeping me alive? You are, aren’t you.”
Not a question. I’m ninety-nine percent sure.
He presses his mouth into a stern line. “Yes. I am, and if telling you raises false hope, I guess it’s done. Montez wants me to do terrible things to you. I may not be able to stop that. Understand? It depends on many things. I would regret it.” He clicks his tongue. “I’m doing this all wrong. Forgive me.”
Forgive. Him. I’m struck dumb. My heart is thudding away like crazy because this, those words, have raised my hopes astronomically.
“Okay.” I nod toward his feet then close my eyes. “I understand. Do I want to know what you might have to do?”
“Maybe not, but you already know he wants to cut off your fingers. Wants me to rape you, again.”
“I think…you said you’d skin me alive while they fucked all my holes.” Ugh.
“Yeah. I did. He was going to make me kill you immediately, and I was trying to give him reasons to keep you alive. I was also being an asshole, pushing my toughness agenda to get Montez liking me. I am sorry.”
He sits forward and takes my hand. “There is something I can give you that you might find it difficult to say yes to.”
“Guessing here but…” I twist my mouth, my face, until it almost hurts. I inhale, feeling his fingers stroke my palm. “Kill me before it gets bad? Is that it?”
“Yes. Though even that might not be easy to do.”
The room wobbles, spins. I duck my head, gulp back the nausea. If I throw up, least I’m near the drain. I grab onto his hand.
“Thank you. I mean it. No matter what.”
“We both know I don’t deserve that.”
True. Real true. Before Montez, he was compelled but he has just pretty much forced me, again, even if I enjoyed the hell out of it, so why is he contrite?
The why is still out there, unsaid. The room has stopped wobbling, and so has my stomach.
“What happened? I’m not connecting the dots. Why are you suddenly being nice?”
The shower patters onward. We may be using the entire ship’s supply of water.
We should turn it off soon, before they come to investigate.
“A very good question. Maybe we shouldn’t dig too deep on that in case I change my mind. Because right now, I feel like I’ve gone completely fucking mad.” He crushes my hand, releases the pressure. “You’re still trembling.”
Duh. “Please? I need to know.”
“Insistent little…thing, aren’t you. It was something you said earlier. Something you did too.”
“Okay.” I have no idea what he’s referring to, but I’ll hang onto every chance I can get. “Can you say more than that?”
“Oh god.” He pulls his hand from mine and buries his head in his hands.
I’m sitting here wide-eyed and stunned. This outright killer of a man is having some sort of breakdown? Maybe?
I’m tempted to do something to help him.
Sighing, I start to wriggle over to him. Then I give up and get onto my knees and crawl to him. I lose a towel in the journey, but I sit beside him and wrap my arms over and around his much-larger body.
“If I say, there, there, and rub your back?”
“You’re dead even quicker,” he growls. Then he pulls my arms from around him, hauls me over his lap, and gives my rear a loud slap. “Fuck. Are you a brat?”
“Never.” But I’m smiling at the floor.
The smile is a bit sad, and I might be dead tomorrow, but what is the saying? Carpe diem. Yeah that. Seize the mutherfuckin’ day.