Serendipity (4 page)

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Authors: Joanna Wylde

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica

BOOK: Serendipity
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Able reached out and picked it up thoughtfully, turning to eye Jax and his sister. It felt good in his hand, with a nice heft. Able clenched his fingers around it. Mali had dropped the disk, and was running up to Jax. The man swung the young girl up in his arms and twirled her around. She giggled, kicking her legs out and crowing with happiness.

Mali made him sick, Able thought.

Jax set her down, and she ran toward the back of the house to retrieve the disk. Able stood up slowly, careful not to make any noise. He cocked his arm back and took careful aim with the nut. It was sharp and pointed on one end; if he got it just right he might really hurt the man. Maybe he'd leave, then.

With every bit of his strength, Able launched the nut at the side of Jax's head. It hit him against one temple. He gave a cry, and turned toward Able, eyes searching for his attacker.

Bright red blood ran down his face. Able froze. He'd done it, now, he realized. Jax was going to kill him. Mali screamed in the background and took off toward the hostel.

Ignoring the blood running down his face and dripping on to his shoulder, Jax strode through the brush toward Able. It didn't even occur to the boy to flee. He'd run from his father a hundred times, and he always got caught. Jax reached him, and grasped the front of his shirt, pulling him out of the brush. He knelt down and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Why did you do that, Able?" he asked quietly, his face sober. Able gaped at him in surprise. Of all the things he could have imagined Jax might do to him, he hadn't considered being questioned.

"I, uh, I don't know," he said, trying to keep his voice strong. To his disgust, his words came out soft and trembling.

"Did you throw it at me because you thought I was hurting Mali?" Jax asked, searching his face.

"No," Able said. To his horror, he could feel tears building up in his eyes. He sniffed his nose fiercely, bracing himself. He wasn't going to break down and cry, no matter what Jax did to him. He wasn't.

"Did you throw it at me because you think I might hurt your mother?"

"Yes," Able whispered. He couldn't look into Jax's eyes anymore. He could feel more moisture welling up, and his lower lip started trembling. It was so hard not to cry when you knew you were going to get hit, he thought. Too hard. He sniffed again. Jax stood up, surprising him.

"Why don't we go sit down over here and talk about this," Jax said, gesturing to the table where mom sometimes let them have picnic lunches. Jax reached a hand down, touching his shoulder. Able flinched. Jax pulled his hand back, and walked ahead of Able to the table. The boy eyed the distance to the hostel door speculatively, wondering if he could make it that far before Jax caught him. Not a chance…He followed Jax to the table, sitting down across from him. At least this way the table was between them; it might offer some protection.

"Able, I think I understand how you feel," Jax said, looking down at him. Able sniffed again, but this time it came out as more of a snort. This man had no idea how he felt. He wiped a hand across his face, removing the treacherous moisture. Jax was silent, as if he expected a reply. Able just glared at him.

"Able, it's a good thing for a young man to protect his mother," Jax said. "I'm proud of the fact that you take such good care of Mali and Sarai. But I think you need to consider whether attacking me is really going to accomplish anything here. I don't want to hurt your mother, and I don't want to hurt your sister. I like them."

"So?" Able mumbled. He looked up at Jax, then took a deep breath and spoke defiantly. "We don't need you. We had a father, and we don't need a new one. And mom doesn't need you, either. She has us for her family."

He braced himself for the blow he knew had to be coming, his eyes closing.

Nothing happened.

"I'm not going to hit you, Able," Jax said, his voice sounding strange. Almost sad, but that couldn't be right. Why would Jax be sad? "I just want you to understand that it isn't a very good idea to throw things at me, or anyone else, for that matter. Using physical force against someone should always be the last thing you try, when there aren't any other choices left. It's a good way for you to get hurt, and if you get hurt there won't be anyone around to take care of your mother and sister. Do you understand that?"

Able glared at him, hating him. He wanted Jax to go away; he threatened the family.

The fact that he was being nice right now was probably just a trick.

"Well, I'm not upset at you this time, Able," Jax said, fingering the cut on his head for the first time. "You sure got me, though," he added with a chuckle. "I knew you were out there, but this was the last thing I was expecting. It just goes to show you should never underestimate someone because he's still young. Let's call a truce for now, all right?"

"What's happening out here?" Sarai's voice was high-pitched and frightened as she came running toward them. Mali trailed behind her, eyes wide. "Able, are you all right?"

"It's nothing, Sarai," Jax said, standing up. "Able is fine. Just a little misunderstanding.

He and I have been talking about it."

Sarai stopped short, seeing the trail of blood and the spatters on his shirt for the first time.

"What happened?" she asked again, turning to Able. Her eyes searched up and down his form for damage, but he was fine.

"I think that Able and I have come to an understanding," Jax said firmly. "Haven't we?"

Able stared at him a moment longer, then turned to his mother. Her face was twisted in concern, and remorse hit him. He hadn't wanted to make her upset, or to scare Mali. She was terrified, he could see that. She had crept up behind Mom, gripping her around the knees and hiding her head in her skirts.

"It's fine, Mom," he said, trying to make his voice sound grown up. "Jax and I have just been talking about things. Don't worry about it."

"Jax, I need to know what happened here," Sarai said, hands on her hips. Mali squeaked at her harsh tone.

"Sarai, it's really nothing to worry about," Jax said. He shot Able a quick look, and for a second seemed almost friendly. Able realized that they shared a secret now, a secret just for them. "We were just talking about how a man takes care of his family. Able's going to be a good man some day, you should be proud of him."

Able's chest swelled with pride, although he tried to tamp down the emotion. No one had ever said anything like that about him before. Of course, he wasn't interested in anything Jax had to say about him. Not interested at all.

He gave Jax another appraising stare. He would have to keep an eye on the man, he thought. He was pretty sneaky. He looked back at his mom, who was watching every move he made. He smiled at her, but her face just got tighter.

"Well, you need to take care of that cut on your face, Jax," she finally said. "It doesn't look serious, but I've got some disinfectant inside. You'd better come with me."

Jax nodded, and she turned to walk toward the kitchen, dragging Mali along with her.

Jax gave Able another measuring look, and the boy straightened. He understood what Jax had been saying. There were smarter ways to protect Mom and Mali. Now he just needed to figure out what they were…

* * * * *

Sarai tried to control the trembling of her hands as she washed the blood off Jax's face.

Her heart was still racing; the adrenaline had hit her with the force of an ore transport when Mali had come tearing into the kitchen, screaming that Jax and Able were trying to kill each other.

She'd halfway expected to find her son dead. She had no doubt he'd attacked Jax, a man who was trained to kill. After all, soldiers killed for a living.

She still didn't understand what had really happened out there, but Jax wasn't talking.

She was willing to bet Able wouldn't, either. The boy was young, but he had a mind of his own. She might never know what had taken place between them…

"Sarai, this really isn't that serious a cut," Jax said, looking up at her with amusement.

"I've lived through much worse than this. You don't need to fuss over it."

"Oh, be quiet," Sarai said, pinching her lips. He was right, of course. The cut did seem to be small, and the bleeding had stopped. She wiped away the last of the dried blood carefully, then placed a small healing patch over the cut, pressing against it to activate it.

Within seconds it had bound itself against the skin, and its tiny computer chip was analyzing the wound and medicating it. She was still amazed by these little patches that everyone around her seemed to take for granted. They could heal a cut in a day. Back home, this cut would have left a scar. She still couldn't understand why her people refused to accept such simple pieces of technology to make their lives better.

"There, it's done," she said in satisfaction. "You'll be fine."

"Thanks," he said, giving her a wry smile. There was a tenderness in his eyes that made her think he wanted to kiss her, but then his gaze darted across the table to Mali, who was watching them intently. Jax stood, then reached out one finger to touch Sarai's lips. It sent a tingle of awareness through her. She wanted to kiss it.

"Later," he whispered. He turned and left the room. Sarai stared at the empty doorway, touching her lips where his finger had been.
How did he do things like that?
she wondered.

He was going to drive her crazy.

Chapter Four

It was maddening, Sarai thought to herself, as she got ready for bed that night. Where the hell was he? He'd been gone all day, not a word about where he was going or when he'd be back. She hadn't seen him since she'd patched up his temple that morning.

She'd been looking for him, expecting him to appear in his annoying way. He didn't show up begging for lunch. She'd even cooked a bit of extra dinner for him, figuring she owed him after his patience with her son's attack. Nothing. No stolen kisses. No wildflowers on the table. Nothing.

And he wasn't in his room, either. Not that she'd been checking up on him, of course. It was just that she'd realized it had been several days since she'd put new soaps in the fresher for him. Lazy on her part, she thought. She usually checked on the soaps every day.

She pulled off her dress and stood before the mirror in her shift, staring at her reflection. She was still attractive, she told herself. Her long, blonde hair had lightened in Hector Prime's sun. It was beautiful now, and she knew he liked to touch it. Her breasts were high and firm. Well, at least as high and firm as they could be after nursing two children. Her body was slim, and her stomach was tight. Sure, she had some stretch marks, but they hadn't bothered him before. Why wasn't he here? The night was halfway over!

She sat down at her dressing table with a thump, making a disgusted face at herself in the mirror. Why should she care where he was, anyway? It was nice to get rid of him for the night. Only two and a half more weeks, then he'd be gone. Well, two weeks and five days. And then he'd be gone forever…suddenly it didn't seem like that much time.

She attacked her hair with the brush, willing herself not to think of him. She was glad he wasn't there. She needed to get some good sleep—last night he'd kept her awake until all hours.

But thinking of him last night sent a wave of heat through her. He'd been so strong, held her so close. He had been hard against her, too. She clenched her legs together, feeling herself grow moist. He could slide right into her; he wouldn't even have to touch her first, she thought. What was
wrong
with her? It was like she had completely lost control over her own body. Disgusting.

She finished combing her hair, and moved toward her bed. It was stuffy. She might as well open the sliding door. It hadn't proven much of a barrier to him last night, and he wasn't even around this evening so there was no point in suffering in the heat.

A sudden thought stopped her dead in her tracks. What if something had happened to him? What if he'd been injured? Was that why he hadn't come home? Her heart raced, her mind running through a thousand different scenarios, each worse than the last.

He could have been attacked, robbed. He could have gone for a walk in the rainforest, and been set upon by predators. It was dangerous out there, everyone had told her to watch her children carefully. Maybe his head wound was more serious that either of them had realized. Maybe he had collapsed somewhere, was in a coma and couldn't tell anyone who he was.

You're being ridiculous
, she told herself firmly. Settle down. He's probably just in town at a bar. Maybe he had met a woman there, a beautiful woman who didn't have children.

For all she knew, he was boffing some floozy at that very minute!

Sure, he told her he wasn't going away, but he was gone already.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even hear the knock on her door.

Then the knob turned slowly, and he slipped into the room.

"Sarai, are you still awake?" he whispered into the darkness. She whirled to face him, livid.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "I thought you were dead! You've been gone all day!"

"Glad to hear you noticed," he replied in an amused voice. She could only see his outline in the darkness. He paced over to her chair and sat down, pulling off his boots. "I took a transport over to the space station for the day. I needed to send some messages to my family on Saurellia, and it seemed like it might be a good idea to give you and the kids a break from me. I hope you don't mind, but I picked up a doll for Mali, and a game for Able.

They just sort of jumped out at me. We can say they're from you, if you don't want them to know I've gotten them a present. I got you something, too."

"Oh," she said, feeling deflated. It seemed so mundane, so normal. "Well, that was nice of you. But you should have left a message for us. We didn't know where you were."

"I didn't realize you'd care," Jax said quietly, sounding pleased. He stood and started pulling off his clothes. She gritted her teeth; the man was too damn confident in himself.

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