Chapter Thirteen
The twelve-seater executive passenger jet was a taunting, pressurised prison.
I eyed the long, sleek cabin fitted with cream leather seats and dainty glass coffee tables.
Finn, Petra, and Jak—three of Torz’s loyal security team—sat to the left playing a quiet game of cards, while Saul settled beside me at the very back, reading from his comms. Two sets of empty chairs lay between us and Torz, who rested with his back against the cockpit wall next to an elegantly styled Marla Hyde.
Only the sound of Marla’s softly spoken murmurs could be heard over the gentle hum of the engines. And her tittering tones were steadily grating on my nerves.
Moulding my body into the corner where my seat met the oval window, I watched Torz flash a smile, muttering incoherent words to Marla.
Her hand slid over his arm—his sprained wrist—pressing her fingers into his suit sleeve whilst whispering in his ear.
Heat drowned me in the icy fire of jealousy, but I couldn’t rip my gaze away.
I needed to see his reaction. Would he pull away like he did with me? Would he?
My heart shattered when he didn’t.
Torz hadn’t uttered a word to me since I’d arrived at the docks.
Clearly avoiding any form of interaction, he’d purposely avoided me, sweeping his eyes to Saul or overhead to something behind; never once meeting my eye.
He was pissed with me, and rightly so. I’d let him down.
After everything he’d done for me, I’d betrayed his trust. I might as well have taken every caring act, every reassuring word from the past six years, and thrown them down the disposal chute with the bottles of Q.
I didn’t deserve him. I never had.
For the third, perhaps fourth time in twenty-four hours, tears tingled at my tear ducts.
This wasn’t me. I didn’t cry. I’d hardened to the sensibilities that provoked them, blocking them from my life years ago.
But recently, something was pulling me into the realms of fragility, and it fucking scared me.
Still with my eyes tracing the features of his face, I inwardly flinched as Torz’s steely gaze locked with mine. Every sane part of me screamed to look away, but I couldn’t. I wanted him to know how I was feeling, how I regretted my actions from last night. That I needed him to trust me.
I had no idea what he portrayed through our bond.
The remnants of Q still thrummed through my veins like a living being, albeit far gentler than last night, which left me numb to his emotions.
But I was none the wiser if Torz’s side of our connection remained heightened.
His stony expression gave nothing away as I tried to emphasise my regret through my soft glower.
But he broke the exchange, turning once again to Marla.
I didn’t realise the hiss inside my head bubbled over my lips until Saul snickered beside me.
“What the hell is going on with you two?”
I snapped my attention his way. Saul was smirking, shaking his head with amusement. Thankfully, his voice remained low and discreet as he said, “Are you somehow talking to each other telepathically?” He gestured between Torz and me. “I didn’t know that was a thing with Damsons—”
“We’re not Damsons,” I gritted out.
Saul’s dark brows rose, then furrowed tightly, confirming his compunction for his tactless comment.
He knew more than I liked about our rejected Damson bond.
Barely two weeks after I’d started working for the team, Torz had told Saul about our past. At first, his candour surprised me.
I’d thought Torz would’ve wanted to disregard the fact, but in turn, Saul’s understanding had become a comfort to me on a good day, a shield on a bad one.
He was an empathetic friend to both of us, and because of that, I loved him dearly.
Shifting in his seat, Saul glanced at Torz who was still attentively talking with Marla. “Are you alright?” Saul asked me, gently.
“Could be better.”
“Is your shoulder still giving you grief?”
“No.” I swallowed the lump of regret clogging my throat. “That’s one thing that’s improved today.” I wasn’t surprised the wound had healed entirely. The Q had worked its magic, but the consequences…
I might as well have ruptured the organ caged inside my chest. The agony grew with every minute that ticked by. Why had I been so stupid?
“I’m thinking…” Forcing my eyes from Torz, I looked down at my fidgeting hands. “Once this ordeal with Zuli is over. I’m gonna…I’m going to request a transfer.”
Saul’s silence ate away at the little conviction I had left, leaving an echo of doubt in my mind. I glanced at him, meeting his shocked expression, the planes of his bronze face swiftly shifting into a frown sculpted by sorrow.
“Really? Are things that bad?”
I slumped deeper into my chair, releasing a long breath.
“The bond becomes too intrusive at times, and…and emotions keep getting in the way. I think it’s time to distance myself.
Let him live his life.” The words didn’t sit right, and the pain in my chest swelled and stung with a profound reluctance.
“I always assumed rejected Damsons lost their bond.”
“So did I,” I mumbled, baffled at why it was still so strong. Annoyed at myself for never finding the time or courage to look further into it. It wasn’t something taught at school or in military training. It wasn’t common knowledge.
“Where will you go?” Saul asked.
I shrugged. “As far as possible.”
Saul scoffed. “Furthest from the Argentum is the Onexx. You don’t wanna live there. It’s a shithole.”
At his jape, a smile thawed my cheeks. He always made me laugh, even in times of turmoil.
But the reality of the situation was that I couldn’t live with Torz being so close.
Perhaps the Damson God was right. To move past this episode of infatuation, I had to either risk my heart and confess, or risk my soul and walk away for good.
As long as Torz found a way out of the predicament he was facing, and when he got back on his feet again, I’d tell him.