Dark Solstice (14 page)

Both men gaped at him with the glassy eyed look of someone who’d spotted a snake and nodded jerkily.

Raathe sent her a speculative look. “Try not to be too conspicuous,” he said coolly and turned on his heel and left before she had time to respond.

Chapter Twelve

“Where’s Rhea?” Kyle demanded the moment Raathe stepped into his cell and he discovered that Raathe was alone.

Raathe narrowed his eyes at the other man. “Safe enough,” he responded finally, his voice tight with irritation that Justice had asked at all.

Kyle’s lips tightened. “By that, you mean you had her transported off this fucking rock?” he responded. “Because there sure as fuck isn’t any place in Phobos safe for her.”

“We should get down to business and get this over with then,” Raathe retorted coldly

Kyle struggled with the urge to go look for her and finally mastered it. “The supply ship is due to dock in the next seventy two hours. They’re transporting about a dozen new inmates, so they’ll be under tight security until they’ve off loaded them and the supplies. The plan is a three day turn around. They’re to pick up a load of processed ore on Mars before they head back. I figure we’ve got about an eight hour window to grab it.”

Raathe stared at him for a long moment and uttered a string of oaths.

Grimes, who’d joined them shortly after Raathe had arrived, voiced the worry uppermost in Raathe’s mind. “What about the munch? What’re you going to do with her?”

Raathe’s lips tightened. “Leave her,” he said tightly.

Justice stared at him in disbelief and dawning anger. “You’re not serious!” he growled. “You can’t leave her here. She won’t last a day!”

Raathe glared at him furiously. “It’s doubtful she’d last that long if we try to take her with us—or have you got some dreamy eyed vision that they’re just going to let us blast off and not try to blow us the fuck away? Just what the fuck business do you think it is of yours what I do with
my
munch?” he growled.

“If you’re leaving her, then she won’t be yours anymore, will she?” Justice shot back at him.

“You plannin’ on stayin’ and claimin’ her?” Grimes asked sarcastically. “’Cause I thought you wanted in.”

Justice speared him with a cold look that rivaled anything Raathe was capable of. “I’m in or you don’t get the code,” he said grimly. “I’ll take Rhea. I think she’d rather take her chances on the transport that stay here.”

A muscle tightened in Raathe’s jaw. “That’s a three man transport coming in—
three
crew members. Bringing you in is cutting it close. There’s not enough life support on board for five—and that’s assuming they don’t blow us to hell the minute we lift off.”

Justice divided a look between Raathe and Grimes, knowing instantly what that meant—somebody was going to get cut from the passenger list real fucking fast. He supposed it was a testament to just how rattled Raathe was by the information he’d given them or he wouldn’t have given that much away.

Before anyone could say anything else, however, a man appeared in the door of his cell, breathing heavily. “Coulter got her, Raathe. Me and Joe tried to stop him ….”

“Fuck!” Raathe snarled as the announcement slammed into him like a fist to the gut. Lurching forward, he shoved Williams out of his way and searched the corridor in both directions, his mind scrambling for where Coulter might have taken her. There wasn’t a lot of options, which was why he’d thought she’d be safe enough with the two bunk bitches. They were allowed to leave their cells but not the cell block.

As certain as he was that Coulter wouldn’t have been stupid enough to drag her to his own cell, he headed for Coulter’s cell at a run, praying he’d find them there. The cell, he discovered with little surprise, was empty. He slammed into Justice on his way out again.

“Where would he take her?” Justice demanded as he shoved past him and into the corridor again.

A thin scream, abruptly cut off, brought his head around toward his end of the cell block with a jerk. Rage rolled over him in a blinding tide as he launched himself into a sprint. He knew even when he came even with his own cell, though, that Coulter hadn’t dragged her there. He could hear faint sounds of a struggle further down the corridor.

He skidded to a halt when he entered the cell, so appalled by the sight that met his gaze he couldn’t even think for a moment.

Coulter was a biter. Rhea, thankfully only half conscious, was still uttering mewling cries of pain as the son-of-a-bitch sank his teeth into one breast viciously. Raathe surged toward them, clenching and unclenching his fists in impotent fury, afraid that if he hit the son-of-a-bitch while he was biting her that he’d tear a plug out. The moment Coulter, abruptly aware that he had company, lifted his head, Raathe slammed his fist into the side of his head so hard he felt bones crunch, one in his hand and two in Coulter’s face. The blow was hard enough it slammed Coulter into the wall behind him and he ricocheted off and onto the floor.

Heaving for breath more from rage than the run, Raathe stared down at him, torn between the urge to finish what he’d started and the need to see how badly Rhea was hurt. When Coulter merely lay where he’d fallen, making a sickening gurgling noise around his broken jaw, Raathe stepped over him and gathered Rhea up, trying to determine the worst of her injuries.

He’d hit her in the face at least once to subdue her, maybe more. It was hard to tell when she was bleeding profusely from the nose and mouth. He’d bitten her several times in his rape frenzy, torn her skin with his nails tearing at her clothes. Raathe’s rage boiled over. “I’m going to break every bone in your body before I choke the life out of you, you son-of-a-bitch,” he growled in a low, threatening voice.

Even as he eased Rhea down, however, he felt a presence behind him. A jolt went through him and through Rhea, as well, before he could let her go. She screamed as the electricity passed through both of them. The voltage felt as if it was burning him alive before it finally ceased. He slumped toward the floor and felt another jolt as the guards followed him down and hit him with another taser blast.

By the time they stopped, he was barely conscious, but he managed to lift his head to look for Rhea.

Justice had her bound tightly in his arms, one hand over her mouth. She was screaming—something, clawing at his hands and trying to break free. His ears were ringing until he couldn’t grasp what it was that she’d said at first. It wasn’t until much later, when he finally woke up in solitaire, that he realized what she’d been screaming.

“Don’t hurt him! Stop! Please stop!”

For the first time since he’d found Amy lying on the floor by their bed looking like a broken doll, he felt like crying. He cursed instead, shaking the bars of his cell and screaming at the guards that he was going to kill them all when he got out.

He wanted to beat his head against the wall until he couldn’t think any more, couldn’t feel anything, know anything. He’d failed Rhea just like he’d failed Amy and now they knew she meant something to him, he thought sickly, knowing he’d given it away when he’d searched for her so desperately. Now they knew they could hurt him by hurting her.

He was going to make Justice wish for death if the son-of-a-bitch didn’t take care of her.

* * * *

Rhea’s head still felt as if it would explode with the pain pounding through her when she felt the man carrying her stop and lower her to a soft surface. She opened her eyes with an effort once the movement stopped, slamming them closed again when her head swam sickly.

Fingers lightly probed her face, making her hurt more despite the gentle touch. “I don’t think anything is broken.”

She recognized Kyle’s voice despite the ringing in her ears. “You didn’t stop them,” she said in a slurred voice, accusing, angry.
“Damn it, Rhea! I couldn’t stop them!” Kyle responded tightly.

“Could’ve tried. They hurt him!”

“Fuck! He’s a big boy. He’s used to taking care of himself,” he said tightly, moving away from her after a moment.

She winced when he returned a few minutes later and pressed something freezing cold and stinging to her breast, trying to push him away.

“I need to clean this before it gets infected. That fucking maniac bit you all over. Christ!”

She knew he’d bitten her. Despite the fact that he’d hit her so hard she was barely conscious, she’d been fully conscious of the pain. “Did John kill him?”

“I don’t know. Broke his jaw. Slammed him into the wall hard enough to crack his skull.”

“Where did they take him?”

“The infirmary, I guess.”

“John?”

He made a sound of disgust. “Solitaire, I imagine.”

“But he was hurt.”

“I don’t think they give a fuck, Rhea. I’m pretty sure I don’t either. He shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Rhea didn’t try to respond to that, but she knew with absolute certainty that Raathe never would’ve left her if he’d thought she would be in danger. She felt too badly in any case to talk any more when she knew Kyle had told her all he knew. She was shivering so badly by the time he’d finished bathing her wounds that her teeth were chattering together. Her jaw cramped when she tried to clench her teeth to keep them from clacking like castanets.

Kyle settled full length on the bunk beside her, pulled her snugly against him, and covered the two of them with his blanket. As angry as she still was that he hadn’t tried to help John and had kept her from trying to help him, she snuggled gratefully against his warmth. “Jesus you’re like ice,” he murmured, scrubbing his hands over her to try to generate more warmth. “I should’ve let them take you to the infirmary. I was afraid to let you out of my sight, though,” he muttered, more to himself than her, she thought.

In any case, it didn’t seem to require an answer and she didn’t feel up to trying to think one up. The freezing cold seeped away after a long while, warmth slowly but surely replacing it. The pain lessened in that time, as well, and she found herself drifting downward toward sleep. Each time she did, though, the horrible images of what had happened after the man had grabbed her materialized in her mind and she jerked awake again.

“It’s alright, baby. Sleep. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Kyle said gruffly.

She shouldn’t have been reassured, she knew. She was cuddled up next to one of Phobos’ inmates and very likely he was as bad as the worst of them, but she discovered she couldn’t get a firm grasp on distrust. He hadn’t hurt her before even though she’d more than half expected that he would.

After a while she found that she couldn’t stay awake no matter how hard she tried anyway. She woke later parched for thirst and feeling as if she was on fire. Kyle held a cup with water to her lips until she’d drank her fill. “I’m so hot,” she complained.

“It’s fever. I bribed one of the guards to bring some medicine for you.”

She shuddered when he put it to her lips and made her drink, making a face at the horrible taste.

“That good, huh?” he asked, his voice threaded with amusement.

“Horrible,” she murmured drifting away again.

She was vaguely aware of the passage of time, but had no conception of how long, drifting in and out of a pain filled cloud of fuzzy thoughts and nightmares. When she finally woke feeling almost clear headed, she found herself staring at Kyle’s sleeping face next to her. He looked younger sleeping and she wondered how old he was. She thought he must be around the same age as John, but then it was hard to tell. Both men bore the signs of a life lived hard.

There was a faint scar at the edge of one of Kyle’s black brows and another at the corner of his mouth that she suspected were from fists.

She wondered if her own face as scarred now, remembering abruptly that the man who’d dragged her off had punched her in the face when she’d tried to fight him off.

When she focused on Kyle again, she discovered he’d awakened and was studying her. “How bad is the damage?” she asked, voicing her thoughts aloud.

His gaze flickered over her face. “You’re sporting some colorful bruises, but you were lucky.”

Rhea felt her throat close. “You think?”

His lips tightened. “All things considered, yes.”

“If Raathe hadn’t come when he did ….”

Kyle’s lips tightened. “If the son-of-a-bitch hadn’t left you none of this would’ve happened.”

Rhea studied him for a long moment. “He was with you,” she said pointedly.

Kyle’s face darkened. He sat up. “You think I haven’t been kicking myself about that?”

Climbing over her, he moved to the latrine. Rhea politely averted her gaze, waiting until he’d moved to the lavatory to wash up to speak again. “How long was I out of it?”

“A couple of days.”

Rhea frowned in confusion. “Days? But …. I remember you were with me …?”

He shut the water off and dried his face and hands. “We’re on lockdown and have been since the fight.”

That explained why she could remember Kyle being with her each time she woke. He had been. Undoubtedly, he’d moved her to his own cell because it certainly wasn’t the cell she’d become familiar with. He moved to the far side of the cell when she got up to make use of the facilities. She’d just finished washing up when she heard a scrape near the door. Her heart fluttered uncomfortably, but she discovered when she’d whirled toward the sound that it was nothing more than a tray being shoved through a narrow opening at the bottom of the cell door. The guard straightened, peered in at her speculatively for a moment and finally pushed the cart out of her view.

Kyle retrieved the tray and headed for the bunk since it was the only place to sit. Rhea followed him after a moment, settling beside him and watching while he carefully divided the food on the tray in half. “I guess they didn’t think you’d be up to eating yet, but there’s plenty here for both of us.”

“I’m not really hungry.”

He speared her with a hard look. “You’ll eat, though.”

Rhea gave him a look, struck forcibly by the similarity in his look and tone to the one that Raathe had used when he’d told her to eat. Her throat closed at the thought and she looked away, wondering if he was alright, if they were even feeding him. She had no idea what they did to prisoners when they put them in solitaire.