Jack This Heart, page 7
People didn’t do that. “You’re too nice, Jack.”
“A personal failing most folks I know don’t complain about…yet, this is the first time you’ve thought that way.”
She smiled and briefly opened her eyes only to find his gray stormy ones staring back at her, mere inches away. “Because this is the first time you’ve ever been nice to me.”
“There’s a reason for that,” he replied in a barely there whisper.
The storm still raged outside, closing them off from the world at large, the mission. Exactly why she felt like she could push this topic further.
“Oh, what reason?”
The answer hovered there, unspoken. But instead of having the balls to say anything, Jack cleared his throat and adjusted his pants. Shannon toyed with the idea of reaching for him, sealing her lips to his, snaking a hand up his thigh and seeing if he’d gotten hard sitting so close to her.
“Shannon?”
“Hmm?” She took a gander at his lips now, full and lush. He had the presence of good bone structure, though up close she could see a few faded scars, one on his cheek and another on the side of his nose.
“I asked you to tell me more about your gang-town. Where you come from?”
She frowned. The last thing she wanted to talk about was her past life, the life they were headed toward. “Does it matter?”
“Every person’s point of origin story matters.” There was an innocent quality to his response. This hopeful idea people were important. Outside of their bones, not so much.
“This one doesn’t.”
Chapter Nine
They were stuck in a cave, had lost their food stores and tent and been chased across the rough terrain thanks to her reckless behavior. Jack had been pissed at Shannon. Her lack of information, her risky actions, cheating…and yet. When he’d seen her propped against the hauler, her eyes closed, her plump lips turning blue and those curls vibrating against her shoulders as she shivered, something inside his chest reacted as if punched.
He found himself desperate to get her warm.
Be close to her.
Then he’d sat beside her and he could see the cord to the necklace, his charm hanging from her neck. He’d meant to provide comfort…until she’d looked at him as if she wanted to eat him.
He needed to keep this line drawn. Not engage with her and focus on the end goal. Implementing a distraction came next and while successful, he despised how she put herself down.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Her frown deepened and he almost laughed at the little indents that appeared on her forehead above her eyes. He filed those details away, the same with the rich dark brown color of her curls. They looked black in this low light with a glimmer of red from the element. He was tempted to touch them… He had before and they were as soft as he’d imagined. Shit.
“It’s easy.” He had to try to get some sort of conversation going. “Start with your gang-town name.”
“Zephyr.”
He paused, mouth open, amazed she’d responded. “All right, and what’s Zephyr like?”
She shook her head, those curls bouncing with the light movement. “Nothing like Frog Lick. We don’t live above ground in Auster. Sure, there are a few buildings, for appearances sake, and trade meetings. But our strongholds exist below ground. Miles of tunnels, living spaces and gathering areas. Plenty of storage space, and our mining operations are more a part of daily life since we’re so close.”
The concept thrilled and terrified him. Cities below ground seemed far more advanced than those in Wespero could have imagined.
“Why below ground?”
She pointed toward the cave entrance where the razors had slowed, the wind starting to howl less. “Those storms were a big motivator.”
“Makes sense. And your parents?”
All emotion left her face, her expression blank. “I don’t think I’m up for talking anymore. How about we try to sleep?”
“Touchy topic, I get it. I don’t think anyone on Mars can claim to have perfect parents.” He patted his shoulder. “You can lean against me.”
The only way they’d get through this adventure was to build trust. Shannon appeared to prefer hiding, whether internally or externally. She liked her secrets, her cheats and games. Continuing to entertain those would put Jack’s life on the line more so than it had been already.
And I need to know if she’s it.
“Fine.” She gently rested her head against him. “But I’m still not talking about them.”
Jack bit his lip to stop from smiling. “I’m not going to force you to. Just share a bedtime story. I was born in Frog Lick, grew up there. Never traveled anywhere besides racing domes. My father was a miner. Hard-core labor, hauling the rocks to process the Marsanium. My mother…”
Shannon’s eyes were closed, breathing even, but not asleep. “Your mother what?”
Maybe if I tell her she’ll be willing to open up. “She was a drunk and gambled away everything we owned repeatedly. My father would stop her, and she’d try for a bit, but would always return to the gambling, the games, and ultimately didn’t care what happened as long as she got a drink. She drowned in the booze, stating without it she hated her life, her husband, me…that she’d never been given the opportunity for more.”
“At least she was honest…”
Jack stiffened at Shannon’s words. They worked through him like a dull blade jaggedly cutting the muscles in his chest.
She sighed, then continued. “You knew she didn’t love you. The only thing we can be thankful for is people being truthful about their hate. Though you didn’t deserve her censure. Whereas I deserved every bit of hate they tossed my way.”
Her tone was all matter-of-fact, her body completely at ease against him. No shudder of emotion, no tears or clenching of her fists. She accepted the words she spoke as truth.
All the pain Jack suffered morphed into sympathy for this woman who obviously believed herself the worst and embraced those ideas to her core.
“No one deserves that.”
“Shush. I’m done pouring my heart out. We won’t have long before dawn and I get cranky with no food.” Her eyes stayed shut, and Jack let his gaze drift across their surroundings. The weakening storm, the heating element with its red coils, the wall of rock around them and the woman against him.
Her grav boots were worn, small holes visible, her cargo pants patched in various places. She had come to them broken, needing flash and trading her knowledge to survive. There were so many like her, on the brink of losing a never-ending battle in a universe that offered no one favors. But his brothers had offered him a chance to fight against circumstance.
Maybe I can give her one.
* * * *
The ground shimmying beneath him shook him awake. His sharp jolt earned him a punch to the shoulder from Shannon.
“Quit moving.” She resituated herself, snaking her arm around his torso and gripping him tight.
When did that happen?
Hell, a glance downward and she wasn’t on his shoulder anymore. No, the majority of her body was draped over his chest, with the blanket covering them both.
The heating element had died at some point. The coils were no longer illuminated red. Sunbeams filtered in through the cave entrance, though the air temperature was still cool.
Jack dared to let himself feel Shannon against him. Her body heat, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. A few stray curls had fallen over her face. He brushed those aside. When was the last time he’d slept with a woman?
Never…because sex isn’t sleeping.
No, Jack preferred his own space for sleep. He tended to believe it was the last sacred thing he could share with the person he was meant to be with.
Those curls out of the way, Jack saw the medallion, closer than ever.
It’s mine. She’s mine. Shit.
“One day it will return to you…”
He rubbed his fingertips together to stifle the urge to touch the piece of bone he’d carved the indentations on.
Shannon groaned beneath him, then stretched. Her hand brushed his groin and he stifled a moan with a cough.
She sat up, acting as if nothing had happened. Shrugging off the blanket, she tucked her necklace under her shirt. “What time is it?”
“Not sure, but from the angle of the sun it’s probably closer to mid-afternoon.”
Shannon stood up and stretched again, this time revealing pale flesh and a belly button with a wicked scar trailing up her stomach. “We slept too long then. The next town is a good clip. How long until you can be ready?”
So fast and abrupt. He was still reeling from the marrow-deep revelation he’d discovered when he woke with her sleeping on him.
“Jack, you okay?” With no hesitation, she was on her knees beside him, checking his pulse. “Pain in your leg? I didn’t put too much pressure on it sleeping next to you, did I?”
The questions overwhelmed his senses, along with her proximity. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to look everywhere at once, from his skin tingling and his hands once again yearning to grab for her. She’d been a dream, a myth, and now she was real.
You’re a fool.
“I’m fine.” He threw his hands up as he spoke, putting a halt to her examination. “Just shaking off the rust. Give me five solar minutes. Then I’ll pack up the element, check the hauler and we can go.”
Five minutes turned into an hour as they had to put the hauler into neutral and push it out of the cave into the sunlight. The solar power needed to regenerate. They’d drained the battery running the element all night.
In turn, he wore himself out. His leg screamed in pain.
“Get in the hauler and I don’t mean the driver seat.” Shannon opened the door to the passenger side and pointed.
Jack grimaced as he hobbled his way there, gripping the side of the hauler for support. “It’s getting worse.”
“More like you pushed yourself too far.”
He climbed into the seat and used his hands to lift his leg inside. “This is embarrassing.”
“Imagine how I feel? We roll into the next town and I’m helping a messed-up driver out of vehicle. You’re ruining my credibility.” She flicked her wrist and brushed her hair over her shoulders before slamming the door shut.
“You’ve got cred in this shithole region?”
She laughed at him, the unabashed sound echoing back into the cave. He would have traded whatever she asked for to hear it over and over again. “There, it worked. Took your mind off the pain. Let’s get moving.”
* * * *
The sun had already started to fall by the time they reached the closest sign of civilization. Sounds of music, laughter and a few engine revs hit his ears. His stomach growled so loud it could have competed with the engine.
“Looks like we made it in time to feed the beast.”
Jack didn’t mention how if Shannon had stayed at the campsite the night prior, they wouldn’t be in this predicament with no food and barely any water. His urge to say anything came from being uncomfortable and pissed that he had to rely on Shannon for help.
His leg didn’t hurt nearly as bad as earlier and he focused on grounding himself in their current surroundings. The gang-town they’d driven into wasn’t like others. There were mounds of hardened mud built up, at least seven feet high, every ten feet or so. Twelve in all. Each one had a rickety wooden door facing the trodden, dirt-packed street. No windows, no roofs, with cacti plants lining the sides of each one to prevent people from climbing atop them.
The only building with a similar construction to those in Frog Lick lay at the far end of the street, a two-story structure of thick logs, a mud-packed roof and a dead end that everyone eventually would run into. There were barbed-wire fences along the sides trailing back to the mud mounds.
A cliff face wasn’t too far behind the building and Jack imagined there was a cave there too.
“I take it those mounds are housing?”
Shannon shrugged. “Maybe…they could be buildings used for different purposes, but you can bet they connect to a structure underground. The tall two-story ahead is going to be their version of the Watering Hole. But more like a place to get food, drink, supplies and trade.”
“All-in-one?”
“Auster gangs don’t like anyone having too much access to their places. You’ll find every gang-town out here has the one place for visitors to congregate. Try to go anywhere else and you’re likely to end up never seeing the surface again.” Shannon’s point got hammered home as they got further down the would-be street, closer to the all-in-one. Several armed men and women stepped out from the mounds, menacing gazes turned on them.
Jack returned their stares with one of his own, sitting up straight in his seat. He’d been raised on this godforsaken planet, too. His tough guy persona could be backed up.
Shannon cleared her throat. “Nice rough front, but maybe tone it down a bit. Don’t want to get us kicked out before we even ask for food.”
Jack kept his scowl in place, even thumped his hand on the dash as they passed another couple who’d emerged from the last mound. They jumped. “If you were born on Mars, then you know why I can’t do that. It’s not in our blood to submit to anyone outside of our gang leader.”
She scoffed. “Well, then don’t start complaining when our next encounters are less than smooth. Hell, I’ll let you go in first and initiate negotiations.”
The hauler came to a stop right in front of the two-story trading post. Suddenly the loud voices and the rambling music struck Jack wrong. Odd, because he’d always been the driver assigned to trading runs. Had always found a woman or two who liked to entertain him on his travels.
In this exact moment, all the confidence he normally would have had in this same situation drained away. He didn’t want to walk in there by himself, at the mercy of folks who might’ve heard about the incident at the border checkpoint.
“You okay over there?” Shannon asked as she turned the hauler off.
The grin and the mischievous glint in her gaze bothered the hell out of him.
He hunched his eyebrows and huffed twice for good measure. She’d played him again, over and over like she was tuning up engine pistons with a little grease. No more doubting himself. He had to quit letting her get in his head to break his resolve. He had enough to deal with.
“Yeah, tired of your games, though. I’ve handled plenty of trades, buys and any number of negotiations over the years.”
Shannon gave a slow nod. “Good, then get to it. While you get us something to eat, I’ll ensure our hauler doesn’t get stolen.”
“Don’t you trade a thing.”
She winked in return, twisting her head away right after so those damn curls bounced. “I won’t have to.”
Jack opened the hauler door and took a deep breath as he prepared to stand up, nervous that he’d put weight on the damn metal leg only to have it give out from underneath. It wouldn’t help his image with the people watching.
Don’t fail me now, nanites.
Grabbing ahold of the door for leverage, just in case, he pulled himself to a standing position, trying his best to keep the bulk of his weight on his human leg. He evened things out slowly until he was sure the cybernetic limb wouldn’t give way, then slammed the door shut.
Jack took his time walking away from the hauler. A slow, easy stride to ensure he didn’t fall flat on his face and put on a show for the locals. He made it inside and liked how there was no sudden stop to anything at his entrance.
For the most part, those inside the Trading Post ignored him. They were gathered around tables, listening to the guitarist strumming out a rhythm in the far corner, playing games of chance with cards or dice and throwing darts.
He walked straight over to the bar and luckily found a pair of unoccupied stools. The others nearby gave him a once over, but mainly because his metal leg clinked with each step. He usually kept it pretty well lubricated to ensure silence, but the last forty-eight hours had Jack forgoing a lot of his normal practices.
Gotta fix that later.
He slid onto the bar stool and tapped on the roughened, weary bar top. There were gashes cut into it, names carved, a sign of longevity and disrespect. No one would’ve attempted such a thing in Frog Lick. Gaia would have stabbed them if they did.
“Can we get you something?” The man who approached had long gray hair, an unkempt beard, leathered skin and glassy eyes. Older than dirt, which was surprising, because long lives weren’t something Mars promoted.
“Looking for a couple glasses of recycle and maybe a bowl of whatever stew you have.”
Glassy-Eyes snorted. “Stew…we serve a slice of bread with a smear of fat and you can get a side of boiled roots or we’ve got a broth. No meat in these parts, not unless you got flash…but those asking for recycle…”
“We’re passing through headed for Zephyr. Storm last night took most of our supply, but I can pay.” Jack refused to lay out how much crinkle he was willing to part with. The amount he had was more than he’d ask Drag to give him, but the leader of Full Throttle wanted to put Jack in a position that wouldn’t leave him stuck.
“Well, that changes things a bit. I’ll give you a loaf, a canister of recycle, a bottle of shine and even a box of BCS-issue protein cubes for five ounces.”
Might end up there anyway.
“Five ounces…that’s robbery even by bootlegger standards.”
“He’s right.” Shannon’s voice washed over him, making his skin break out in chill bumps. She slid onto the stool next to him. “You’re trying to rip us off, old-timer.”
Glassy-Eyes held up his hands in mock surrender. “Those are the prices. I just set ’em based on supply and demand. Old philosophy if you’re short on goods, can’t make money, you raise prices.”
Shannon leaned up against the bar. “Then how about a bet?”
No might about it—she’d get them caught for sure. Jack was screwed.
