Chapter Two
Madelaine Archer viewed the bachelor auction in Alienn from a distance. A very long distance, through the violet-lensed prop that served as a two-way vid-screen for Madelaine to watch the proceedings live.
As planned, her proxy, Seraphina Blaylocke, had walked into the crowd as bidding for the first bachelor started.
She waited until the bidding died down before executing the winning bid plan.
A plan Madelaine had created when she discovered the event would coincide perfectly with her need for Jack Grey’s help.
Help he might not give her, if she merely asked. Now he was honor-bound by the rules of the bachelor auction to at least spend the next twenty-four hours with her. She hoped it was enough time to convince him to help her achieve her ultimate goal or at least the first step of it.
Plus, it was for a good cause, helping out the Starlight Old Folks Home. When Madelaine had lived in Alienn, the place wasn’t some rundown forgotten home for the elderly that needed money to keep the lights on, but things could have changed.
Five years ago, it had seemed like a very nice, very well-funded residence for the community’s older residents. Perhaps that was due to the excellent fundraising Jack’s Aunt Dixie did on a regular basis.
While Madelaine needed more than a single day with Jack, her next plan included not only persuasion but a heartfelt apology.
One she’d owed him for years.
At first, Seraphina wasn’t close to the stage, but Madelaine could see Jack Grey clearly. He looked…well, really great. She couldn’t wait to get a closer look and talk to him.
“Please, Jack,” she whispered into the crisp air around her hiding place. “Please help me just this once and I promise I’ll never want to darken your doorstep ever again.”
Which was a lie. She’d love to darken his doorstep every day for eternity. Madelaine loved Jack Grey. Just like she had the first time she’d seen him, walking into her high school science class.
Way back when they were sixteen years old. Way back before her life changed forever. Way back before she’d been next in the line of succession in her mother’s family for a very important—and unexpected—lifelong duty.
She’d had to uproot her life in Alienn, leave Earth and head to Alpha-Prime to train, learn and execute a responsibility that had been many decades in the making.
Before five years ago, Alpha-Prime was simply the place her parents had come from. A place she’d only visited every couple of years to see relatives. She hadn’t liked going to Alpha-Prime when she was a child and didn’t appreciate it any better as a young adult.
Even from an early age, the visits to relatives she barely knew seemed fraught, stilted and obligatory. Of course, no one in her immediate family ever said that out loud.
To Madelaine’s way of thinking, the best thing about those visits was returning to Earth. Earth was her home. Always had been.
She’d loathed the dry, dusty desert planet her parents came from because the planet she’d been born on was lush and lovely, filled with all manner of geological wonders beyond sand, more sand and the Outer Rim desert, which was truly the worst of all the hot, sand-filled places on Alpha-Prime.
Life inside the spheres, where most of the Alpha population lived, was tolerable, but water was scarce even there. Money was not allocated to plants or greenery for aesthetic reasons, at least not like on Earth.
As much as young Madelaine hated going to Alpha-Prime for familial visits, teen Madelaine hated it more.
The visit right before she turned eighteen had been more off-putting than all her previous visits.
An elderly aunt of some prominence in the social circles of Alpha-Prime made Madelaine uncomfortable with her constant staring.
Every time she moved or did anything, Aunt Lucretia’s vivid glacially blue glare followed her, as if Madelaine was some prized brood mare up for auction.
Aunt Lucretia, who was her father’s straight-laced aunt, constantly assessed Madelaine’s every breath and clearly found her wanting, if her tight, wrinkle-lined moue was any indication.
Madelaine made a personal vow during that visit that she would never return to Alpha-Prime ever again. She didn’t want to know these people any better than she already did.
Of course, that private oath went straight out into a vast and rotting space potato field in the sky because of what happened the week before she turned twenty-one.
The week her life changed forevermore.
She closed her eyes, inhaled a deep breath and put her focus back on the issue at hand. Rehashing that time in her life was a useless endeavor.
She had been tasked with completing a very important…chore.
Well, chore was a simplistic term for what she’d been asked to do. Urgent mission was maybe more accurate. Words like dire and world-ending had been used in conjunction with this coming task.
A task she needed help with. Jack’s help.
Jack Grey. Love of her life.
The man who likely hated her for what she’d done.
And had every right to do so.
Jack followed Cyberpunk Chick, who had still not identified herself, across the courtyard toward the parking lot. He marched like a condemned man past Valene, Wyatt and their twin toddlers, along with Axel, Gage, Wheeler, Diesel and their wives.
Cam and his wife, Ria were the only ones missing this event because of the recent birth of their new baby boy, Theo Cam Grey.
Every one of the brothers who were in attendance had a big fat grin on his face as he passed by with the woman, proxy or not, who’d bought Jack’s butt. He was not surprised.
Sure. Fine. They didn’t have to do the stupid bachelor auction because they had wives.
“Who’s your date?” asked Axel, his arm draped around Lucy’s shoulders.
“Apparently, it’s a secret,” Jack said, continuing past his family.
Axel’s grin shifted to a smirk. “Way cool.”
“I don’t know about that.” Jack Grey had been in some strange situations in his life. This one was climbing the top ten list really fast.
None of his other brothers said anything, but their mock pitying looks were tiresome and Jack ignored them all.
The proxy stranger led him to a large, sleek black SUV that he definitely hadn’t noticed in the Starlight Old Folks Home parking lot when he went up on the stage. He climbed into the front passenger seat, hoping she didn’t expect him to sit in the back while she drove. Not happening.
If Cyberpunk Chick was unhappy that he was riding shotgun, she didn’t say anything. She focused on driving.
Arms crossed, boots stretched out like he owned the place—which he didn’t—Jack settled back to see if she’d reveal anything about where they were headed or the identity of her client. After a couple of minutes of silence, that seemed unlikely to happen.
Which Jack didn’t like one single bit.
Cyberpunk Chick drove like a woman who had somewhere very important to be and zero patience for conversation. Which, unfortunately for her, was exactly what Jack had. If she wouldn’t communicate, he felt obligated to do so.
“So,” he said, dragging the word out, “you planning to tell me why you just spent—what was it—eight thousand dollars on a date with me?”
“Twenty-four hours,” she corrected smoothly, eyes fixed on the road.
“That’s what I said. A date that lasts twenty-four hours.” He tilted his head, studying her. “You always make impulse purchases like that, or am I just special?”
A flicker of something—Amusement? Irritation?—crossed her face.
“You’re special,” she said after several seconds, but there was a blatant dollop of sarcasm included in the admission.
“Uh-huh. That’s what all my ex-girlfriends say.” He grinned.
That earned him a glance. “Do you always deflect with humor?” she asked.
“Maybe. Do you always kidnap men from charity bachelor auctions?”
“Oh, please. I did not kidnap you.”
“You absolutely did.”
“You agreed to the terms. Plus, I paid for you fair and square. Cash.”
“Whether cash or credit card, I’m pretty sure ‘mysterious stranger drives bachelor off to who-knows-where’ wasn’t in the fine print.”
Her lips twitched. “Don’t worry. You’ll understand everything very soon.”
Jack straightened slightly. That tone was familiar. He’d heard it before—from his siblings and his cousins when something alien and inconvenient was about to unfold.
Jack stared beyond the windows into the dense, darkened forest that lined the road. The morbid part of his brain warned, If this date goes south, they’ll never find my body.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s exactly what I am worried about.”
Cyberpunk Chick did not comment further.
The car slowed.
They turned down a long, tree-lined drive that shouldn’t have existed this close to town. Spanish moss hung low from the branches, brushing the windshield like fingers. At the end of the drive sat a house—quiet, tucked away, the low lights glowing warm through the front windows.
Jack’s instincts sharpened. It looked like the kind of creepy place that came with a crazy lady in the attic. Or worse.
“All right,” he said, voice low. “Who am I meeting really?”
She pulled the car to a stop and put the gearshift into park. She killed the engine and turned in her seat to look squarely at him.
“Don’t worry. It’s someone you know.” That didn’t narrow it down. He knew lots of people.
Something in Jack’s chest tightened.
He didn’t like her answer. Didn’t like it at all.
He pushed his door open before she could say anything else. His boots hit the gravel with a crunch. The night air was thick, heavy with damp humidity and something else—something electric, like the air before a storm.
Now that he was out of the SUV, the house looked charming and foreboding all at the same time. A porch spanned the entire front of the two-story house, with stairs centered in front of the main entrance.
He walked up to the porch, each step slower than the last.
The screen door was closed but the door behind it was open. Of course it was. Because apparently tonight had to be as unsettling as possible.
Jack opened the screen door—he half expected the hinges to squeal eerily but they were silent—and stepped inside. The front room was dim, lit by a single lamp in the corner. Shadows stretched long across the floor. Everything felt like it was suspended. Waiting for him.
His jaw tightened.
“All right, proxy bidder,” he called over his shoulder to Cyberpunk Chick, voice echoing slightly. “This is the part where you explain what the hell is going—”
“She won’t be able to,” said a new voice. A familiar voice.
A voice that hit him like a physical blow.
No. Can’t be.
Jack froze. No. No way. He turned slowly. And there she was.
Standing just beyond the edge of the light, features cast in shadow, but he would know that figure anywhere.
Madelaine Archer.
For a second—just one—his brain refused to catch up. Like it was trying to protect him from something too big, too sudden, too heartbreaking.
She looked the same. And yet not.
Her blond hair was shorter than the last time he’d seen her, darker at the ends. Her posture was straighter. There was something in her eyes he didn’t recognize—something older. Harder. Like a battle-weary soldier back home after a lengthy war.
But it was her. It was really her.
His heart slammed so hard within his chest it hurt. He hid a grimace to keep her from seeing how impacted he was by the mere sight of her after so long.
“Hey, Jack,” she said, just like she used to when they were together.
But they were not together. Not anymore. She had left him. Cut him off. Ghosted him.
His resolve hardened.
The shock cracked, the shattered feeling from seconds ago replaced instantly by something hot and sharp and five years overdue.
He let out a short, humorless laugh without even trying. “Hey, Jack?” he echoed. “Hey, Jack?”
Madelaine didn’t flinch. She straightened almost imperceptibly, as if bracing herself to face his considerable anger.
“After five years?” he went on, voice rising. “You disappear without a word, break my heart into about a thousand pieces, and you come back with, ‘Hey, Jack’?”
“I understand you’re upset, but I didn’t disappear without a reason.”
“Funny,” he snapped. “Because from where I was standing, that’s exactly what you did.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
Jack took a step closer. Then another. He stopped just out of reach.
“Where were you all this time?” he demanded. “What happened? Why—” His voice caught, just for a second. “Why wasn’t I worth an explanation?”
Madelaine’s composure seemed to waiver.
“I’m sorry, Jack.” Her eyes closed for a second, then popped open. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“Couldn’t,” he repeated. “Or wouldn’t?”
Her jaw tightened. One delicate shoulder lifted in half a shrug. “Actually, both.”
He shook his head, emotions burning through him.
“Unbelievable.”
“Jack, I know how it looks—”
“No,” he cut in. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to come back into my life, drag me out of an auction like I’m some kind of prize, and then act like we’re just picking up where we left off, because we aren’t.”
“I’m not asking for that.” Her voice sounded strained.
“Then what are you asking for?”
There it was. The real question he wanted an answer to. Or one of them, at least.
Madelaine took a deep breath. She stepped into the light. And Jack saw it fully then—that weight she was carrying. The fear. The urgency. The guilt?
“I need your help,” she said.
He stared at her. This time, his laugh was softer. Colder. “Of course you do.”
“Jack—” Her soft, pleading voice had never failed to hit him right in the soul. That was exactly the way she said his name right before she told him she loved him. But that was years ago. Things had changed. Drastically changed.
“No,” he said, holding up a hand. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Not anymore.”
Her eyes glistened, but her expression firmed like she was trying to bear up under his difficult attitude. His totally justifiable anger.
“Please,” she said. That word hit harder than anything else. “Please, just hear me out.”
Jack clenched his jaw. “Fine. You’ve got exactly twenty-four hours,” he said finally. “That’s what you paid for, right?”
Madelaine nodded slowly, warily.
“Good,” he said. “Then you better start talking because at twenty-four hours and one second, I’ll be the one who leaves without a backward glance.”
Jack turned away from her, but didn’t leave the house. He was willing to hear her out, but it was too difficult to look at her and not see the woman she used to be. Before…
Before she’d broken him.