He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cig, lighting it with the wires of his fingers. The smell of nicotine-laced smoke did little to calm the strain in his muscles. Zeph held the cig between his pointer and thumb and drew hard, allowing his body to fill up with poison. There was a tightness in his neck and shoulders that no drug could heal. Those muscles pulled tautly and made his head ache, and no matter how often he recalibrated his body, the tension remained.
He took another drag from the cig when Janet curled into herself, cuddling deeper into his bedding. He’d cooled down the room to help her sleep better and prolong the silence.
If he’d learned anything about his captive, it was that she was a barely contained lightning storm, powered by ambition. Montihan’s daughter was a wild force to be reckoned with, a hand grenade without a pin, but best of all, she was a distraction. When he focused on Janet, everything else disappeared—even the pain—and because of that, he couldn’t let her go.
The temporary oblivion he felt in her presence had become an addiction. And unlike all the other women he had seduced and bedded over the many years of his life, there was something about Janet that muddied out all of his previous experiences.
Zeph tapped the ash off his cig when she stirred.
His fingers clenched, crushing what was left of his nicotine fix when she jumped out of his bed and her body was fully revealed to him. His captive was in a distressed, overly large T-shirt that swallowed up her tiny shorts. It was enough that he could pretend that she wore nothing beneath her shirt.
The lights turned on in his room.
A nicotine-laced smirk tugged at his lips.
There was poetry in her stiffness, in her shock at the realization that she was no longer in her room. The security camera changed angles and he watched every single emotion flit across her glorious face.
Seconds.It only took seconds for her to go from shock, to worry, to fury.
His grin broadened.Her anger is delicious.Bloodthirsty, raw. He’d never encountered a woman quite like her before. A naïve, blonde vixen who thought she knew the way of the universe but was oh-so-sorely innocent.
His fingers twitched with the need to feel her again. But then his little spitfire began to rain havoc on his room, expelling her rage in a dangerous way. When Janet set her sights on the glass shelving, Zeph shot to his feet, all traces of humor vanishing.She’s going to fucking hurt herself.
He rushed out of the bridge, readying to bind her hands and press her up against the wall--when he heard crying.
He came to a stop so fast that the demon caught up with him, and returned to its usual place on his shoulders. His legs locked straight as the pain intensified. Zeph steeled himself against it. He could feel the shift happening in his upper back but forced his mechanical body to fight it.
He looked down at his hands to see a slight pallor of green spread onto them from under his uniform. The EPED logo was more of a brand than a tag. It burned straight through the fabric and into his skin.
Zeph started moving again—slowly—and followed the sound of crying.
Two hours since takeoff.
It fucking better be a sobber flower.In truth, he already knew it wouldn’t be. There was no fucking crying flower from Tau-Ceti anywhere aboard his ship. That made the wailing all that more terrible.
“What the fuck?”
The wailing grew louder at the sound of his voice, and Zeph rounded the corner only to stop short at the sight before him. It was a little girl, no more threatening than a lamb.
He couldn’t explain the emotion he felt at that moment, but he finally understood the meaning of the wordfucked.
Lily Montihan, Janet’s younger sister, lay sprawled out on the metal floor outside his lab. That strawberry blond hair was an unmistakable trait she and Janet shared. He’d recognized that shade anywhere… He’d been obsessed with Janet’s. Dumbfounded and a little pissed off, Zeph stepped closer and kneeled in front of the girl. The wrong girl.
Zeph cleared his throat. “Lily?”
She looked up at him, teary-eyed, and screeched something his tech couldn’t translate before she went back to crying.
Several hours ago, at the dark start of a Kepler day—a little past what some would call midnight—he’d waited outside the Montihan settlement, shrouded in stealth gear. His focus had solely been on Janet’s bedroom window and the woman sleeping soundly beyond. He’d been furious. And until last night, there’d been nothing he could do about it.
Seeing Netto and Rylie so happily together had made him a jealous fucking man. Janet had thrown herself at him. Why not have a little fun? Enjoy real pussy when it’s offered? By the time Janet was done with him, he’d been tossed out like week-old trash. One quick, desperate fuck, under salt-stained blankets, shouldn’t have mattered. Which infuriated him more. No woman, nor man for that matter, had ever dared to ghost him.
“Lily?” he said again, and this time the girl quieted her crying.
His experience with children was best described as non-existent. Other than the occasional, placating occurrence, playing the stereotypical Cyborg hero for the few he encountered. He looked around him at the cold, barren hallway they inhabited.How the hell did she get on my ship?But he knew the answer to that immediately. Whenever he was near Janet, there was very little that could pull his attention away from her.
He brushed Lily’s hair back and tipped her chin up so he could see her face.
“I want my mommy!” she cried.
