Simple things.
All denied to them. No one in their family had ever attained their dreams, no matter how small. Not since the day they’d been declared outlaws on their home planet over a genetic fluke none of them had asked for.
Though to be fair, there was a bright sparkle in Eve’s eyes now that hadn’t been there before. Jinx had at least lifted Eve up to where she was no longer as cynical and jaded as she’d been before he’d come along.
Jayne envied her that.
“It’ll be okay, little bit.”
She nodded, even though she didn’t feel it or believe her sister’s words. There was no need in making Eve feel bad while she was trying to help. “What do I do now?”
“You’re welcome to continue on with my crew.”
Awesome.
Mercenary work and bounty hunting. The last thing she’d ever wanted. Honestly, she was tired of trying to find easier ways to get blood out of her clothes. Clean the skin and gore from beneath her fingernails.
Packing weapons in concealed places on her body because every shadow was a possible threat.
Simple life. That was her ever elusive dream.
With a ragged breath, Jayne forced away her sadness. There was nothing to be done.
This was their family’s legacy.
Humiliation and gore.
Resigning herself to her fate, Jayne drew a ragged breath. “Any new assignments?”
“An easy one just came in. I was going to turn it down, but . . .”
Jayne sighed in resignation. “How gross is it?”
“No blood for once.” Eve pulled her comm out of her pocket and took a second to load her files. “Prince retrieval.”
She scowled. “What?”
Eve handed her the comm link. “He’s a runaway and his family wants him back.”
That seemed uncharacteristically easy. “Don’t they have security to track him down?”
Eve shrugged. “Some reason they’re outsourcing.” She jutted her chin toward the comm in Jayne’s hand. “For that amount of creds, I’m not asking any questions.”
Since when?
“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”
“Ha, ha.” Eve rolled her eyes. “Stop being dense. Do you want it or not?”
Jayne looked over it and realized Eve was right. Simple assignment. Grab an aristo and get paid enough money that she could have a nice retail therapy session to assuage her bruised dreams and self-esteem. “Sure. Why not?”
“Awesome. I’ll get you signed up for it.”
Alexios Hadrian Vicarius Scalera stood in front of the sink filled with dishes and cursed his very existence.
Gah, could I hate my life more?
Sadly, the answer was probably yes, but still . . .
