Runner: The Fringe, Book 3 (15 page)

Since he’d played the virtual before, he coaxed her through solving the clues. The carved constellations made a map in the sky that took her in a logical order to a singular destination. As she touched the correct patterns in the right order, an obelisk of sandstone grew out of the center of the river. Her challenge now was to find a way to get their character out there.

With a little prodding from Foster, fighter pilot delta navigated the river by sinking a rope carrying spike in the opposite wall. He finally faced the thick metal door centered on the obelisk. As they looked up, clouds heavy with rain obscured the bright light of the full moon.

“Dare we go inside?” Foster asked with a booming
bwahahaha
that he made echo over the ship.

“We dare.” She giggled. “If it gets too scary, we can shut it off, right?”

“Absolutely.” He rubbed the side of his face along hers, his sharp beard tingling her flesh. “All you have to do is say stop.”

She knew he was talking about the game, but she heard the undercurrent in what he said. All she had to do was say stop, and he would, about anything.

“Then let’s go.”

Fighter pilot delta pushed open the door in the sandstone obelisk. A vast foyer of smooth purple marble stood empty. Three darkened hallways led off from the echoing room. Over each hallway rose an arch marked in different languages, none of which Jynx could read.

Foster translated them effortlessly. “We want this one.” He pointed straight ahead.

With a few taps of his long, thick finger, he moved their character below the arched words and into the dark hallway…

She had a wonderful time sitting in his lap, playing Labyrinth, as she felt herself hanging perfectly still in space. Time moved. Her body moved. Foster moved. The ship moved. But physically, they didn’t really move from the point in space Foster hung them to. They dangled like a holiday tree ornament.

She didn’t understand why the IWOG called games like this murder simulators. Murder was a horrible crime of insanity and passion, and she’d experienced far too much of its realities as a surgeon. But that had nothing to do with the game. Calling a virtual a murder simulator was absurd when killing wasn’t the point. You didn’t run about the game killing everyone. You cautiously navigated the game trying to figure out what was going on. If someone or something got in your way, you had to be careful about killing them. They might be an ally without whom you couldn’t proceed. Or they might be an enemy who would betray you without conscience. The main reason she could see why the IWOG decried any type of virtual was that they were singular entertainment for the most part, like reading. You did it alone, and the IWOG didn’t like when people had time alone to think. Thinking could be ever so dangerous.

“We have to kill this guy. If we don’t, he’s going to kill that other guy, and we need him to open that door.” Foster blew the misshapen hulk away. Red gobs spattered everywhere, coating the bridge helmet windows in gore, bathing them in ruby light.

Jynx recoiled with a horrified gasp.

“Shit. Sorry. I’ve got the splatter factor to full.” Hasty and apologetic, he tapped the keypad controls.

“Leave it.” She stayed his hand. “I want to see the game the way you play it.”

He smiled sheepishly as he turned the spatter factor to full along with the sound effects. After cleaning the gore off, he took their character down miles of roughhewn hallways. Footsteps echoed as they continued deeper into the structure.

“Are you having fun?” Foster lowered the sound a bit as he whispered the question to her ear.

“Yes.”

“So am I.”

Fighter pilot delta pushed open a rickety door of iron-wrapped wood and entered a cavernous room.

“Watch this.”

Foster made their character take an object they’d found earlier and toss it into the vast space. An explosion shook the ship.

“That’s not—”

“It’s the game. Watch.”

To her astonished eyes, the whole cavern lit up. Water, still and slick as obsidian, covered the floor. She actually lifted her feet and curled deeper into his lap so as not to get her socks wet. Firework-bright light illuminated the area. Wincing, covering her eyes, she then opened them slowly as the white light faded. A magical world of pastel spires and sand-dribbled castles filled the cavern around her. Pastel luminescence came from within each ethereal creation.

All went quiet.

He nuzzled her ear. “What do we do now?”

She swallowed hard. Did he mean the game or them?

Realizing her answer would be the same either way, she said, “I want to play this out to the end.”

Hours later, Jynx yawned.

“Sleepy?” he asked.

“Yes. What time is it?”

He chuckled softly into her ear as he saved their game and shut that part of the system down. “Time is a strange thing out in space. Standard time puts it at”—he turned the chair, flipped a switch—“sixteen hundred, thirty-six minutes.”

“Four thirty-six in the afternoon?”

“Yeah, for standard time, but out here? It’s whatever time we want it to be.”

After a pause, she said, “You have to be on-world for time to matter that way.”

“See? You’re getting the knack already. I’ll make a spacer out of you yet.”

“Jynx Brennan, space doctor.” She giggled, sounding a little punch drunk from the late hour. “I vote it’s nighttime, because I want to go to bed.”

“By your prox-clock, the sixteen/eight split intervals in the cell room, it’s about three in the morning.”

“That explains it.” She turned to him. “Where am I going to sleep tonight?”

He ducked his head and determinedly fiddled with the control panel. “I have to put you back in your cell.” He didn’t want to. He wanted to put her in his bed, but didn’t dare, because he’d never let her sleep. Given half a chance, he’d be all over her. “That’s the only place there’s another bed besides mine.”

“I think my cell is probably the best place for me at the moment.” She stood and stretched. Her hands barely brushed the upper array of electronics.

“Why’s that?” He tried to keep his gaze on her face and off the lush promise of her body below that clinging lilac dress but failed miserably.

“I want to sleep. If I went with you to your bed, I don’t think I’d feel much like sleeping.” She turned to him and grinned impishly. “If
you
did, I’d be horribly insulted.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he stood and simply walked away from the bridge. She followed him through the ship and back to the cell room. Once he ushered her into her cell, he pulled the door closed.

“Do you really need to lock the door?” She didn’t appear to be upset, only curious.

“For your safety, yes.” He wouldn’t be turning the autofires on, but there were other dangers on his ship. He swept his gaze from her sock-covered toes to her gently mussed hair. He swallowed hard. “You’re just safer in there.”

“Actually, so are you.” Lifting her chin, she gazed at him through the durosteel bars. “Given half a chance, I know I’d find my way to your bed.”

Shaking his head, he uttered a frustrated sigh. “You can stop now, okay? You don’t have to entice me anymore.”

Her eyebrows rose, and she laughed. “Do you think I’m pretending to be interested in you so I can obtain my freedom?” She flashed him that don’t-be-ridiculous frown. “A moot point at this juncture, don’t you think?”

He didn’t know what to think, but he didn’t want to take things too seriously. “I think you need to think about what you’re going to do. If you’re going to stay here with me on the ship, it would be best if we didn’t get too involved.”

“If I stayed with you on this ship and did things with you like curl up in your lap for a few hours to play a virtual, I think it would be
impossible
to keep my mind or my hands off you. I’m not made out of stone. Neither are you.” Her gaze swept him slowly with a long linger on his hips. “Well, for the most part you’re not.”

His case of permarection made him grimace and look down at the floor. “I guess maybe we shouldn’t do that anymore.” He knew without a doubt that she could see his simultaneous pleasure and guilt. He felt like a little boy who wanted those cookies in the jar and constantly reached for them but got caught every single time. To his shock, she didn’t slap his hand down but boldly slipped a handful of goodies to him, which only made him feel more guilty.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course I did.” He hid his eyes with his sandy blond bangs. “I’ve never done that with anybody. I mean, I play with myself all the time.” As the words caught up to his sleep-deprived brain, he gave a hard, embarrassed laugh. “I need some sleep.”

Her rolling chuckle only made him laugh harder.

“What I
meant
to say is that I usually
do
that alone.” He paused. “Play the computer game alone. No virtual has ever turned me on the way it did tonight, but I don’t think that game had a hell of a lot to do with why I almost split my pants.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, pulling it out of his eyes. “All around, I have to say I had a
great
time tonight.”

“So did I.” Her otherworldly eyes connected to his with an intensity that almost pushed him back a step. He held on by sheer force of will. “I want to stay on your ship with you. I want to be with you. Not just as your doctor or your friend or even as a member of your crew. I want to be your lover too. So, you see, my decision is already made. You need to decide if you can accept all of that from me.”

Unable to match her bold honesty, he dropped his gaze to the floor and let his bangs again cover his eyes. He wanted all of that, and more, but couldn’t quite trust himself to say anything, so he walked away, turned the lights off, then closed the door.

For a moment, he leaned against the smooth durosteel, thinking about how dangerous this situation had become. Why was he so afraid to accept what she willingly offered? It seemed unfair to him. Jynx really wasn’t free. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. She chose him because she had no other choice, and that annoyed the hell out of him. Worse, if he kept her, he was guaranteed of a lifelong and powerful enemy in Roberts. Foster had enough adversaries by virtue of his work, but not one nearly as dangerous as Roberts. Getting the upper hand didn’t mean he’d keep it. Once he made his way to his bed, he tossed and turned until exhaustion finally overwhelmed the doubts in his mind.

Chapter Fourteen

In the dark, Jynx brushed her teeth, washed her face, undressed and put on her borrowed robe. She rinsed her panties and bra, hung up her dress, snuggled finally into her bunk, but couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps Foster wasn’t attracted to her and simply couldn’t help his reaction. Any woman in his lap would give him an erection. But it hadn’t seemed that way. He seemed interested in her. Why else would he be so careful to inform her she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to?

Most men would assume that if they let her live with them, there would be an automatic sexual component to the relationship. Most men. But not the ever more complex Foster Nash.

He’d seemed like a proud little boy tonight, showing her his toys. Truly he floored her when he asked her if she wanted to play, because the first thought in her mind was playing in bed. Playing the computer game, snuggled up in his lap, had been the most freedom she’d ever known in her life.

He’d shown her a world she’d never known existed. Alongside the dangers inherent in his world stood a host of singular pleasures she’d never dreamed of experiencing. Privacy most of all. Even in a stupor of drunken abandon with Brandt, she’d felt watched and self-conscious as they’d frantically pawed each other under the utilitarian enotex sheets on her small and lonely bed, in her ridiculously small and painfully nondescript apartment. How odd that on a ship in a cell with a virtual camera in her face, she felt perfectly relaxed and uninhibited. Perhaps because the only person who could watch was Foster.

As big and strong and fearsome as he was, he was also gentle and kind and compassionate. Something more than just his sheer physical attractiveness made her abandon all she’d ever known to just
be
with him. She couldn’t put her finger on why. His marshmallow heart, perhaps, or the way he looked at her. His kindness. His proud little boy grin that turned suddenly adult, knowing, and dangerously wise. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall head over heels in love with the very confusing and infinitely compelling Foster Nash

“Why do I have to be careful? I can fall in love with him if I want. I’m free to do whatever I want now.” Snuggling into the covers, she smiled into the dark. Roberts destroyed her old life, but there was a very curious freedom in her new one. She frowned. Doubt began to gnaw at her happiness when she considered that escaping Roberts had been too easy. As much as she wanted to believe Foster that it was over, and she was somewhat free, she didn’t really believe that she was. Jynx simply didn’t believe that Roberts would ever give up until one of them was dead.

“Rise and shine!” Foster entered the cell room and found Jynx still curled up in bed. Blinking, she rolled over, smiled at him, stretched, then yawned deeply.

“What time is—never mind.” She tightened her robe and swung her legs out of bed. “It doesn’t matter what time it is. As far as I’m concerned, it’s morning.”

“You catch on quick, young grasshopper.”

“I’m getting the hang of this space thing.” She yawned hugely again and stretched her arms over her head, drawing his borrowed robe tight against her breasts. Sleep-warm nipples grew hard against the cool air.

“Jynx Brennan, space doctor.” He tried not to look but couldn’t help himself. The flannel robe gaped open, and the vision of her voluptuous legs took his breath away. What she said last night came rushing back; she wasn’t made of stone and neither was he, even though it felt like he had a permanent rock in the front of his pants. If he didn’t do something about this swelling, it would get mighty painful.

“Speaking of the computer game,”
he’d said,
“I play with myself all the time.”
He should have taken himself up on the offer after leaving her last night. Had he, he wouldn’t be nearly as crippled by the throbbing in his jeans as he was now. Damn the little brain whose voice grew ever louder and more insistent. How in the Void would he keep his hands off her?