“Calm down, woman. He’s barely been gone an hour.”
God, had it really only been an hour since Aeron had left? It felt like much longer than that. But then, worry had a way of altering one’s perception of time. And Rona’s worries were twofold.
First, she was worried about Aeron.
And second, she was worried that she was worried about him.
It had only been two days since she had first laid eyes on the Mercs in the Common Hall, and regardless of everything that had happened since then, two days simply wasn’t enough time to be catching feelings for any man—let alone three of them.
She shouldn’t have been so worried about Aeron. Not to this extent. Mild concern would have been acceptable, but she was sweating bullets.
Rona reached the cockpit door. She stopped and prepared to pace back down the corridor in the other direction. As soon as she turned around, however, she let out a startled gasp.
Zeth was standing right in front of her. Jesus, where had he come from? Rona hadn’t even heard him.
The young Merc reached out and gave Rona’s cheek a soothing touch.
“Murdok is right,” he said. “I understand that you are concerned for Aeron’s safety, but your fears are unfounded. Even if the raiders somehow detect his presence—which they won’t—but even if they do, they would never be able to capture him.”
“Right,” Rona said. “They’ll just kill him.”
“That is even less likely.”
Rona frowned.
“Doesn’t he have, like, a communicator or something? Maybe you could just give him a call real quick to make sure he’s okay?”
“I do not think Aeron would appreciate such a distraction. If he needs assistance, he will alert us.”
“Unless he’s notableto alert you.”
“Again, as I’ve already explained—”
“Oh shut up!”
Rona pushed past the young Merc and began to march down the length of the ship’s corridor again.
Why did these men have to be so damned infuriating? It seemed like they had an answer to everything, including how to handle her.
And that, Rona realized, was the deeper problem that was eating at her—the future.
Rona had assumed the Mercs would be leaving her behind after the mission was complete, and at first she’d been more thanokay with that plan. She hadn’t wanted to be bred by them in the first place, and she definitely hadn’t wanted to live with them either.
But now… she wasn’t so sure.
There was no way it could ever work, though. These men were Mercs. They traveled around the galaxy killing people for money. It was a dark and dangerous life. Hardly the kind of situation for starting a family.
She reached the end of the corridor, turned, then stalked back the other way.
As she passed the armory, Murdok once again looked up from what he was doing—checking a case of concussion grenades—and this time he let out a snarl of annoyance.
“Enough of this shit.”
The big, scarred Merc came storming out of the armory and grabbed Rona’s arm, which all but disappeared within his massive, callused fist. He spun her around roughly so she was facing him, then he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, just as he had done two nights before, when he had first brought her on board.
And just like that night, he carried her straight to the rear of the ship.
“Hey!” Rona shouted. “What are you doing?”
