9. Pieces of Her
Slumping over the desk in my room, the code in front of me on the screen blurred.
I’d barely slept the last few days. Between avoiding Lark like the plague and discovering new code almost every day, I could feel in my bones that something bad was about to happen.
But without an encryption key or more information, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I felt helpless, as if I was watching granules of sand running through the hourglass, when time was of the essence, but there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop any of it.
There was information running through my ship that was contributing to something major, and I could do nothing but sit and watch the encrypted code appear and disappear, like those grains of sand.
Stashing the contraband comm that I used to review the coding without being tracked by any data collection services, I rubbed at my eyes.
I needed to sleep, badly, but anytime I had tried to do so since we’d taken off, all I could see were lines of code dancing behind my eyes, or the giant list of things I needed to do on the ship, or my wife’s shapely and long legs and pouty lips…
how red and wet they’d been after the kiss we’d shared the first day I’d met her.
“Fuck,” I grumbled.
Lark was a distraction I couldn’t afford.
I thought if I avoided seeing her tight ass and those devious blue eyes, I might escape unscathed.
But still my thoughts wandered back to her small, warm hand in mine as she tugged me into the mess hall with a look of fierce determination etched upon her soft features.
I hated that she consumed my thoughts and that she made me want to do things to her that I hadn’t thought about in a long time… things I’d sworn I was finished with.
I’d lost every single person I’d ever cared for, so allowing myself to care about another person was out of the question.
It was bad enough that my crew was constantly bringing down my barriers, despite the fact that one of them was against me…
proof that I shouldn’t allow myself to be vulnerable with others.
Every morning, waking up in my quarters, I could smell her, as if she’d just been lying next to me. A light scent of lilac dusted across the pillow on the side of the bed where I didn’t lie…where I knew she slept.
At the very least, she’d been doing a good job of keeping the room clean, surely having sensed that cleanliness and order were very important to me.
I had enough to worry about, so tripping over dirty laundry or not being able to find what I needed very quickly were things that were easily in my control.
I liked a tidy space, and I appreciated that she seemed to as well.
But she couldn’t hide her presence entirely.
Other than her smell, there were small things.
Her clothes in the drawers that had been previously empty, a matching toothbrush next to mine, and occasional strands of long, dark, wavy hair along the floor before the automated cleaning system ran through its daily cycle.
At first it irritated me, but then it became a nuisance of a different kind. Every now and again, I found myself lingering in bed with the desire to shove my face into her pillow. I’d snooped through her things, despite the courtesy I should have extended, allowing her privacy.
I could lie to myself and pretend that I was doing it to vet her; after all, we were sharing a space.
Just because Darren said she could be trusted didn’t mean that was the truth.
But that would be a lie. At the very least, I still had enough of a conscience to feel like a creep, but something inside me wanted to know her.
And seeing these hidden pieces of her felt like I was granted a view few others would have.
And what I’d learned from these bits of her was that she was simple, and tidy, and utilitarian.
She’d arrived on the ship with only a backpack that held a few essential sundries, a couple changes of clothes, and a single sentimental item, a photo of a younger Lark with a boy who I assumed was her brother, given they looked like an almost identical, gender-swapped version of one another.
Both tall and lanky, the same color wavy hair and blue eyes. Curiously, the youthful Lark appeared to be quite focused and serious, whereas her brother carried a wide, goofy smile— gregarious, where she seemed to be astute.
I found it interesting that what I’d seen of her so far on the Radiant was much more similar to how the boy in the photo appeared.
And while others might have wondered what had happened in the intervening years to cause her personality to change so dramatically, I could see her for what she was—a phony.
After all, it took one to know one.
The easygoing, but skilled chief engineer toiling a few floors below me wanted people to see her that way, likely because she had seen how her brother had been, how easily a personality like that draws people to you.
And in her line of work, it was paramount that you know how to wear many masks. But I saw through her.
She was still the focused young woman in the photo, determined to succeed, albeit behind the facade of her own creation.
And if I could see all of that from sparse minutes of interaction, and one hell of a kiss, god help me for what she could see in me. I hid behind so many layers of protection, sometimes I didn’t even know who I was anymore, or who I wanted to be.
My official comm buzzed next to me, indicating my sleep shift was over.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten any. After stashing the contraband comm in the safe hidden under the sink in the bathroom, I made quick work of showering and getting ready for my shift up on the bridge, where I would relieve Jordan from duty for a while.
I made a quick stop to the mess hall to grab something to eat before heading up top. Cassidy was leaning against the counter, shoveling some sort of cereal into his mouth, probably with the same idea as me.
“Mornin’, Cap,” he said through a mouthful.
“Paulson,” I replied, sidling up next to him to program what I wanted into the food generator.
“How’s Lark settling in?” He set his empty bowl down on the counter next to me.
I glanced over at him, uncertain why he was asking about her. “Fine.” I think. I didn’t say the last part out loud.
“She’s had a rough go of it, you know.” Cassidy rinsed the bowl before setting it in the sanitizer.
My gaze locked on him. What did he mean by that? “Has she?” I questioned, eyebrow raised. I hadn’t intended to come across as intimidating. Cassidy had always been rather skittish, but I wanted to know what he wasn’t saying...
His lips parted, realizing he’d overstepped, and trying to figure out what to do next. “We grew up together,” he sputtered nervously.
Shit.
“She didn’t mention it?” He seemed disappointed.
“No.” I went back to the generator. “We’ve been rather busy.” I meant with the ship, but I allowed the alternative implication to sink in with him instead. I didn’t like that he knew her. I didn’t like that I could sense the interest he had in her.
Cassidy’s throat bobbed.
I wanted to ask him more, but doing so would reveal that she and I clearly didn’t know much about each other.
“She’s so different from how I remember her,” he offered. “Losing Xavier and her parents…I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
I made eye contact with him again, intent on staking my territory. “Good thing she has me now, then.”
His shoulders sagged, despite the soft smile he gave me. “Right.” He nodded.
“Any issues in comms I need to be aware of?” I asked, making it clear we were done talking about Lark.
“No, sir.” His posture straightened, going back into work mode without hesitation. “The channels have been quiet. I’m actually a bit surprised; normally the shipping lanes are a little more talkative.”
His observation only added to the sinking feeling in my gut.
“Keep me posted on the activity levels.”
“Yes, sir.”
I didn’t give him the chance to say anything else before exiting the mess hall and heading up to the bridge.
Jordan was clicking away on the screens in front of her, running through constant system checks, rather than resting on her laurels.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her as a second for too much longer; she would be an excellent captain in her own right, but I was glad to have her while she learned the ropes.
Hearing the door whoosh closed behind me, she turned in her chair, a puzzled look on her face. “What are you doing on the bridge, Captain?”
I cocked my head in confusion, then peered down at the time on my comm. I was early, but only by a couple minutes. “I’m here to relieve you.”
The corners of her lips quirked into a smirk. “There’s been a schedule adjustment.”
I frowned.
“You’re on second shift now.”
“On whose authority?” I demanded.
Jordan’s grin grew. “Officer Reese issued the alteration while you were off duty. You should have a notification on your comm.”
I looked down at the screen. I had hundreds of notifications. I ignored them all. Between Jordan and Natalie, they kept me alerted to what was going on, so it was a waste of time to check them.
“I’ll talk to Reese.” I turned to leave, but Jordan stopped me.
“No use. She came up here personally to ask me if I could pull a double today and swap shifts.”
I spun to face her. “And why would you do that without consulting me?”
Jordan’s amused expression was nothing if not terrifying. “Natalie’s in charge of the schedule. I didn’t know you needed to approve any changes,” she challenged.
It was clear she knew something I didn’t, and I had a feeling who was really responsible for the change.
As the captain, I had the ultimate authority to dictate the schedule, but as there were other forces at work here, I knew it would be more trouble than it was worth to throw my weight around and move it back—until I had more information, at least.
“You look like shit, Cap. Go get more sleep. I’ll be here when you get back,” she called after me as I stomped out of the room.
And sure enough, when I made it back down to my quarters, I found Lark in nothing but white cotton panties and a practically see-through white tank top scrolling through her comm, perched at the edge of the mattress, preparing to go to bed.
When she heard the door open, she looked up at me, eyes wide in alarm.
“What have you done?” I snarled.