In His Sights (Don't Tell) (8 page)

Peace enveloped me. I could bear whatever came next. I let dry sobs overtake me when he slipped out, too dehydrated to cry properly, relief singing through me. He knew my heart would always be his.

Clothes had been delivered to my cell when I next woke, as well as a bowl of thin gruel and a cup of water. I scarfed down the broth, licking the bowl clean. I saved the water for later. Inspecting the gear before I put it on, I found Corps cast-offs complete with boots and socks. Having me dress like one of them for my trial seemed a strange idea. I would’ve thought they’d make me look like a wildling instead.

My belly warmed when the soup hit it. My pulse sped when the cell door opened not too many minutes later. The two standing before me weren’t my usual tormenters. They wore hooded jackets that covered their faces.
Executioners
. One was short and slight. The other was lean and rangy. Maybe there was to be no trial after all, just a clean and quick death.

They herded me away from the stairs, toward the back of the prison. A door slid open. Bright sunlight blinded me, reminding me it was early fall, when Shoals commune held their harvest festival. Free of the dank basement air, I breathed deeply. My only regret was not touching, not kissing, not telling Mayce one more time how much I loved him and had hoped for our future.

They crowded beside me, hustling me toward a Cruiser with the engine running. I started struggling.

“Get in the goddamn vehicle now.” The feminine voice came from the smaller figure before she jumped into the driver’s seat.

I shuffled into the back, the other executioner following me, slamming the door behind him.

The driver gunned the engine. “Keep your head down and shut the fuck up.” Her eyes flashed lightning quick when she looked behind at me. “And, Jesus Christ, why don’t we just wave a red flag at the gates? Cover his goddamn dreads up already.”

She continued to mutter as my other captor placed a Corps cap on my head, tucking the rest of my hair inside my collar. Fingers brushed my skin, then pulled away. The Quad gates rose before us. The woman had divested herself of her hooded top in the few seconds interval, appearing as any other regulation soldier when she flashed her ID.

“Special detail. Doing the charity-thing for our citizens tonight. I’ve got MREs in the back to deliver.”

When she was let through without questions, she stomped on the gas, roaring out of the Quad. The sectors sped by, each defined by how much destruction they’d taken. Nerves prickled across my skin like needles pushing into my pressure points as we drove farther and farther away from Mayce. I didn’t know if this was a rescue op or another new level of torture.

“Where are you takin’ me?” I pushed my face forward over the front seat.

“I told you to shut your trap, pretty boy.” Veering around sandbags and swerving through roadblocks, she mumbled, “Stupid. Asinine.
Just need a little help
, he said.”

The vehicle stopped at the unguarded gate I’d shown Mayce before, the first night I’d taken him outside. When I’d known I loved him.

“That wasn’t half as dicey as I expected it to be. Damn.” The woman hopped out and hauled me from the back. “
Just a career-ending move
, he didn’t mention.”

She released my wrists from the cuffs that had marked me with deep fresh cuts. “He who?” I asked, not daring to hope.

Twisting her strawberry blonde hair into a tight ponytail, she pointed behind me. “Him, who.” She scuffed her boot on the ground, grinning. “Asshole.”

“Nice moves, Darwin. But we’re not out of the woods yet.” The deep husky voice caused vibrations to sing through my body. Then the man’s hand appeared, grasping my face, a red string tied around his fourth finger.

“You mean you’re not
in
the woods yet,” she sassed back.

I ignored her to turn to my captor, my savior, my lover. I dragged his hood off, crumpling against him. “Mayce.”

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, Hawke. Fuck!” His arms wrapped around me.

I felt his wet tears and his warm lips, the profound solace of his strong body. All the living, breathing sensations I thought I’d lost forever. His mouth found mine in the gentlest whisper of a kiss.

“Okay, boys, how about giving a girl a chance here?”

We broke apart only to stare at each other, hands never stopping touching. Need for more than these soft caresses was on the horizon.

“Ahem. I’m standing right here.” The woman crossed her arms over her chest.

“Who’s that?” I asked, murmuring against Mayce’s neck.

“Don’t worry, she’s a friendly.” He stationed me against the Cruiser and made his way over to her. “Are you coming with us or staying, Darwin?”

“I think I can do more good on the inside.”

“You mean more damage.” Mayce knuckled her head.

She grinned fiercely. “That too.”

“You’ll guard your back?” He hugged her.

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll kick some ass for the Revolution.” With one last look and a final salute, Darwin hopped into the vehicle. The Cruiser disappeared from sight, fishtailing into the depths of the Territory.

My ankle hurt, my many cuts bled. Mayce took most of my weight as I hobbled outside of Alpha. I hadn’t been permanently maimed, but I sure wasn’t pretty.

The enormity of what he’d done, the crime he’d committed to save me made me halt. “You know what you’re doing? You’re a traitor now.”

“No I’m not. I’m a freedom fighter.” Tension rolled across his shoulders, no matter what he said.

“You can turn back.”

He hauled me against him, quietly apologizing when I flinched because of the bruises littering just about every part of my body. “Are you dense, Hawke?” For the first time in over a week, his mouth slanted unforgivingly across mine. Hypnotic hunger arced between us. He pulled back, his thumb passing over my lips. “Number one: fuck you. Number two: don’t ever try to take the fall for me again. Number three…” His voice lowered, his fingertips skating softly over my body until he held me tight. “Don’t you ever think I won’t save you, because you saved me the first time you kissed me.”

My heart bounded loudly in my chest and I couldn’t speak.

“I guess we’re in agreement then.” Smirking, Mayce turned around and patted his ass. “Hop on.”

“No.”

“No?” He snorted. As he strong-armed me over his shoulder, he proved just how powerful he was and just how useless I’d become. “Stop it. Stop thinking.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were. Either let me carry you or hold you or help you.” He slid me down his body. “You’re not a weakling. You’re not useless. You’ve been tortured.” His eyes slammed shut. He shook his head. “I just want to take care of you, so point the way and let me help.”

After an hour of me stumbling and him holding me up, we made the fire-lit clearing of my camp and warriors. Weapons immediately raised in our direction.

“Stand down!” I called.

“Hawke, is that you? We’d given you up for dead.” Ryder strode forward, machete at his side.

“Not dead, just dead weight.”

The burly redhead glared at Mayce. “So you’re the one that made him risk his life.”

Mayce helped me hop to the fire. “I’m the one who got him out of there, dickhead.”

Ryder’s eyes narrowed. I limped between the two. “What he means is it’s very nice to meet you.”

Mayce blushed when he lowered me to the ground and stretched out my aching leg. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. Manners, right?”

“This is Ryder, and Ailene, Aryck, Janus, Georgie, and Birdie.” I introduced him to my inner circle. “And this is my lover, Mayce.”

“The one who made you whistle this past month.” Janus smiled in Mayce’s direction.

“The one who got you strung up.” Ryder growled.

“I don’t give a hard fuck if you kill me, but Hawke needs food, drink, warmth. So do me a favor, Ryder, and stoke that fire before you roast me over it.”

Mayce’s words were eerily similar to my guards when they’d talked about burning me alive. I slammed my eyes shut, inhaling sharply. When I spoke it was a low command. “That’s enough, Ryder. I will not have my people treating Mayce this way.”

“Huh.” Ryder scratched his hair until it peaked on top of his head, frowning between us. “Then I guess I’m sorry too.”

Mayce kissed me on the forehead. “Nice work, baby.” He unarmed himself, placing his Beretta and knives on the ground. He made himself as harmless as he could in order to protect me once again.

Food was plated up and served so fast my stomach chomped at the bit, growling loudly.

“Water first. Sip it.” Mayce’s hand lingered beneath my jaw as he tipped my chin up.

The cold essence wet my tongue, cooled my throat. He fed me while the others watched us curiously, hands close to but not on their weapons. The meat was savory and recently cooked, so good I didn’t care if it burned my throat going down.

“Slow down, slow down.” He admonished, stroking my arms. “Take it easy, I don’t want you to get sick.”

All the while, Mayce held me on his lap. He gave me small tidbits, enough to ease the emptiness in my stomach, not enough to make my body rebel. I fell asleep in his arms, drifting awake when I heard Ryder speak.

“He loves you.”

“I know.” Mayce cradled my head against his shoulder, brushing his lips against my temple. “I hate myself for what they did to him.”

I cranked my eyes open enough to see Ryder stand up.

“Forgiveness is easy when you start with yourself,” he said. “That’s his tent. Keep him close. We’ll be on guard tonight.”

Mayce helped me to the tent, laying me on my blankets inside. “Just going for some water so I can clean you up.”

“I don’t want you to touch me.” I curled over onto my side. In the space of a week, I’d been beaten, traumatized, torn apart. Skin and bones, I was almost too tired to put up a fight.

“Too fucking bad, because I’m going to see you and touch you every day for the rest of our lives so you better get used to it.” In spite of his harsh words, his hands were tender as he rid me of the dark blue uniform, saying he was taking it outside to burn it.

I let tears fall from my eyes and few laughs slip from my lips, relief and worry overwhelming me. Mayce returned with a bowl of steaming water and cloth in hand. He set about washing me off and cleaning my wounds. He checked all tender points for breaks and fractures. He kissed my lips so softly I soon forgot about my incarceration if only for a few minutes.

Setting the cloth aside, he undressed and curled against me beneath the blankets. “They fucked you up, but I’ll put you back together.”

His hot tears slid along my neck.

“They didn’t kill my spirit,” I whispered.

He choked against me, his body convulsing.

“Don’t cry, love.”

“How can I not?” He clasped my face. “You’re still beautiful, baby…” His shoulders shaking, he dropped his head. “I wanted to get you out earlier. I’m so sorry they did this to you.”

I smoothed my hands down his back. “It’s done now.”

He raised his face, fire in his eyes. “We’re getting out of this hell.”

“There’s still a war to fight, Mayce.”

“You know what? I don’t give a shit about that right now. You could’ve died!”

“You could’ve been found out, killed in combat.” Vestigial fear ramped through me.

“We made it though.” He joined his hands with mine. “You need some R&R…and someone to take care of you.”

“That someone’s you?”

Fingering the red string he wore on his finger, he nodded. “Fucking right it is.”

The maelstrom of distress, always the dread for his safety, washed away. “I wanna end every day like this.” I finally succumbed to Mayce’s warm embrace.

“We will.”

“You’ll come home with me?” I tiredly slurred against his strong shoulder.

“My home
is
you.”

C
HAPTER
S
IX

M
AYCE

It took three days to get Hawke fully operational after his imprisonment. I cared for him night and day, which I think he loved even though he was a grumpy grumbling shit about it. All it took was a touch, a look, a kiss to wipe away his fake glare and make his eyes turn that startling silver-green color that had first caught my attention.

His body healed quickly, but nightmares made him scream awake. He wrestled away from me and the blankets until he crouched in a corner of our tent, shaking from his head to his feet. All I could do was approach him gently and coax him into my arms. I knew what they’d done to him—the evidence was on his skin—but it tapped far deeper into his mind.

Decamping ASAP was the smartest idea. I was now a wanted defector known to have a
Nomad
prisoner under my protection. We tramped through the Wilderness, guided by Hawke’s band of warriors. Each early October day on the southern route grew warmer. The trail became thicker, overgrown with underbrush, overhung by trees.

“They’re coming around to you.” Hawke hiked beside me, keeping his balance with a thick tree limb I’d carved into a walking stick, where before he’d have leaped nimbly over fallen logs.

I snorted. “Yeah. I can tell. Ryder stopped waving his meat cleaver around in front of my face.”

I was tempted to call Ryder
Little Red Riding Hood
on account of his blazing red hair. The name came from an Old History children’s story my mom once told me, from a book banned decades before I was born. I’d decided against giving him the nickname to his face, deciding I preferred my head still attached to my neck.

“It’s a machete.” Hawke winked, laughing at me.

“Whatever.” I pulled him in for a quick kiss on the lips. I dreamed of having his mouth all over my body. We hadn’t made love since his capture. I wouldn’t rush him, but my balls ached and I wanted nothing more than the skin-on-skin connection we’d shared from the first.

During the trek that saw one week turning into two, I learned Janus the optimist was mated with Ryder the pessimist, the protector, the pain in my ass. Birdie was twenty years my senior and a little on the hefty side with round rosy cheeks. She looked like a grandmother but had mean-ass aim with her crossbow. Among the others, the gray-haired old geezer was there, the man I’d left by the roadside the night I’d trapped Hawke.