Taking Liberty (2 page)

She nodded and he smothered a whoop of triumph.

“But there's one condition.”

“Fine. Whatever. If it's a down payment or something, you can have my stupid-ass brother.” He pivoted and jogged towards his quarters in the rear of the ship. If he hustled, there'd still be time to swing by Zondoroc for the two cases of truffles he'd promised his ma before making his drop shipment for General Quarrel.

“That won't be necessary. Because I'm coming with you.”

Chapter Two

Lucus jammed both legs into a pair of wrinkled, mud-colored flight pants, his teeth grinding. “I'm not a bad guy. Honestly. So why do you keep shitting on me, life?”

“Do you always whine this much?”

He spun, almost wiping out on the trailing leg of his pants. Rini stood outside the doorway of his cramped sleeping port, waving a small can of ozonator. The smell of lilacs drifted to his nose and he coughed. “Do you have the slightest concept of privacy? And stop waving that thing. My ship's going to smell like a florist.”

“Yeah, that'd be such a huge step down from it smelling like dirty socks.” She pumped the nozzle two more times, clearly just to annoy him. “Also, your privacy wouldn't be an issue if you didn't grumble so loud. I swear even the earless mutants on Warddok Fourteen could probably hear your bitching.”

He wrenched his pants the rest of the way up over his briefs and secured the snaps. Snatching his shirt and boots, he stormed from the port, forcing her to crowd up against the wall as he passed. Another blast of lilac spray clouded over his head. He sneezed.

“Sorry.”

Yeah, I bet
. Reaching the bridge, he dropped into his seat and stuffed his feet into the battered moon-tracker gravitational boots. He yanked the shirt over his head as Rini plopped into the copilot seat. Thankfully, the lilac ozonator was nowhere to be seen. “Wouldn't you rather sit in the back lounger? Much more comfortable.” And farther away.

“Nope.” Giving him a smile that dripped with phony sweetness, she buckled into the harness.

The numerals on the holographic clock reminded him that arguing wasn't on the schedule.

“Were you able to fix the busted side running light?”

He shot her a hard glare. “No. And don't you mean the one
you
busted?”

She pulled her hair from the band securing it and the strands floated around her shoulders like a living flame. “Well, if you want to get technical about it, you were the one who scared the bejeebers out of me—which resulted in the collision with the cactus. So you deserve at least half the blame.”

“That's the stupidest bullshit excuse of all time.” With a growl, he fired up the thrusters.

“Hey, aren't you going to replace the busted light first?”

“No time.”

“But it's required regulation to have all exterior lights properly functioning.”

“No one's going to notice one lousy missing light.”

“
I
know it's missing.”

“Who are you, the damn light police?”

The color riding her high cheekbones almost matched her hair. She unsnapped her harness and jumped to her feet, shooting a finger in his face. “You know, flight regulations are in place for a reason. It's cavalier people like you who cause thousands of traffic accidents every year. If you're too
busy
to take care of the light, point me to the supply dock and I'll take care of it myself.”

“I told you there isn't time. Now sit. Your ass. Down.”

She shook her head. “And I told you I'm fixing the light.”

“Fine.” He slammed the stick throttle forward. The star cruiser took off, toppling Rini into the copilot seat. “The supply dock is outside the cargo bay. Have at it. Course, it might be kinda hard holding on once I hit warp speed.”

A pair of blazing blue eyes glared at him from behind a tousled curtain of hair. “Very funny.” She jerked the harness back on and crossed her legs stiffly. “Just so you know, I am fixing that light as soon as we land.”

“Why am I not surprised?” The pod wheels retracted and the Liberty began its ascent. Below them, desert scrub shrank into the vista.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“Zondoroc. Then Aquatica.”

“Aquatica?” Amazement splashed across her face. “How in the universe did you gain trade access with that planet? Their leader is notoriously anti-UGG.”

Keeping his gaze averted, he recalibrated the stabilizers to combat the strong winds kicking up. “I have my sources.”

Thankfully she seemed satisfied with his answer. She reached for the zipper on her jacket and tugged it down. Despite his major annoyance over her presence, he couldn't help noticing the delicate arch of her neck when she shrugged the jacket off her shoulders. Her close-fitting black tank top revealed that he might have been off the mark with his original assessment of her breasts. While not huge, they certainly would fill a palm nicely. Not that he was volunteering the palm.

Jerking his gaze away, he stared out the viewing shield. “Isn't repo'ing an unusual and dangerous career path for a woman?”

“I know how to hold my own when a repo job goes shaky.” She slid him a sidelong glance that screamed don't-fuck-with-me. “I graduated top honors at the space ranger academy, and trust me, they taught me how to properly kick butt.”

A strangled choke clogged in his throat. “You're also a cop?” Nervous sweat slid down his neck.
Karma is one vicious bitch.

“No.”

Up until then, he didn't realize one word could carry so much unhappiness. “I don't get it. Why go through the hassle of ranger academy if you had no intention of becoming a cop?”

She lowered her eyes, waited several beats before answering. “My parents helped me see the wisdom in joining the repo agency instead.”

“Why?”

“Because my great-great-grandfather was the one who started the agency.”

Family responsibility. Yeah, sometimes it could be a real bitch. “Well, that sucks.” Not for him, certainly, but he felt for her plight.

Rini blinked, temporarily dismantling her cool mask of indifference. “Pardon?”

“Babe, you don't need to hide the fact you're pissed about getting roped into a job you never wanted.”
Shit, not that I know anything about unwanted jobs
.

She pinned him with a look that threatened to blister his skin. “I'm not pissed. And I love being an agent.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Why are we even talking about this?”

“Oh, I don't know. To fill some dead air during the twenty-minute flight staring us down?”

Crossing her arms, she snapped her mouth shut with enough force her teeth clinked. She shifted in her seat and grimaced. Digging next to her hip, she pulled out a fork. Gripping its steel handle between her fingers, she eyed the utensil with the same disgust most people would treat a dead rodent. “You really should consider firing your maid.”

He reached out and plucked the fork from her. “What do you know—I've been looking all over for this.”

Shaking off a shudder, she popped a bottle from one of the million pockets stitched into her pants and squeezed several drops of the clear liquid into her palms.

The harsh antiseptic stench of germ killer assailed his nostrils. “Do you always make a habit of carrying a medicine cabinet on you?”

She rubbed her hands briskly, slathering the liquid into her skin. “When you're faced with repo'ing ships that haven't seen a decent cleaning in a decade—like the majority of cases I'm assigned—you learn to be creative.”

He glanced down at the crumpled wrappers littering the floor. “My brother is mostly to blame for this mess. He takes his job as the slob in the family serious.” Unfortunately, it was the only thing Chase took seriously.

“You and your brother have a strange relationship, don't you?”

“What makes you say that?”

She swept her hair to the side and stared at him. “Well, you don't seem to like him much.”

“I like him fine.” Most of the time. Like when Chase wasn't drunk off his ass or missing a shipment drop after deciding he'd rather chase some tail.

“Uh-huh.”

He didn't like the assessing glint in Rini's eyes. It prodded the dark corners of his soul, making him feel naked and exposed. Hilarious, considering she'd seen him with his Johnson waving free and proud. He returned his attention to the controls and expelled a relieved breath when he noted that they were less than ten minutes from Zondoroc. Soon enough, she'd get her damn money and get the hell off his ship.

Chapter Three

The instant the star cruiser taxied to a halt and the thrusters fired down, Lucus bolted from his seat.

Rini shook her head.
And I thought
I
was high strung
. Yanking off her harness, she stood and stretched her arms over her head, working the kinks from her neck and upper spine. “Where did you say the supply dock is?”

He shot a look over his shoulder. “Jesus, obsessive much?”

She planted her hands on her hips. “I told you I was going to fix the light.”

His arm gave an impatient wave. “The dock's in the rear of the ship, near the back bay. I won't be long.” He said the last part with a heavy dose of warning.

“Don't worry. I'm not planning to take off without you.” That was the problem. She should never have allowed her emotions to get in the way of doing her job. If her coworkers found out, they'd ridicule her for giving Lucus a break. If her parents found out, they'd insist on re-stationing her in the administration department—the one place she'd fought tooth and nail to get away from. She'd rather spend a lifetime in a dingy prison cell than another single day behind a desk with a mile-high stack of brain-deadening paperwork staring her down.

So why had she risked everything for someone she didn't even know?
His eyes
. One faint glimpse at the desperation in Lucus's expression and her heart had twisted.

She knew what it felt like to be desperate. Trapped by circumstance, trapped by responsibility.

Trapped by my own stupidity.

Pushing away her morose thoughts, she strode from the bridge. The steel flooring pinged beneath her boot heels, a lonely echo. She followed the snaking, overhead fluorescent cage lights towards the back of the ship and entered the supply dock. A metal shelving unit housed several spares of interior and exterior lights. Grabbing the box she needed, she swiveled, scanning for an available hover ladder. When a thorough search produced no ladder, she tucked the bulb box under her arm and ventured into the cargo bay. The rotten stench threatened to make her gag. Covering her nose, she journeyed deeper into the room, surveying the stacked cartons.

She spotted the hover ladder strapped to the side wall. “There you are.” Weaving a path around the pallets proved treacherous. She banged her knee at least three times and scraped her elbow twice. Wincing, she rubbed the jagged scratch on her arm.

A large carton blocked her access to the hover ladder. Tightly wedged pallets on either side of the crate squelched the idea of wiggling around it. She set the running light on the corner of the pallet and pushed down on the crate's lid, checking for stability. “Seems solid enough. Here's hoping I don't break my neck.” Swinging her leg, she clambered on top of the carton. Balancing on her knees, she fumbled with the lower strap cradling the ladder. Grunts and swear words streamed forth in a steady rush before she finally freed two of the snaps. The ladder canted away from the wall with a groan, breaking through the remaining snaps.

“Oh shit.” Rini scrabbled to catch the toppling ladder in time. The bulky contraption proved heavier than she'd anticipated and crashed into the crate's lid, splitting it down the middle. She and the ladder tumbled inside. Her cheek smacked into the hard edge of a metal rung. Beneath her, the contents of the crate squished, releasing a ripe, fishy odor.

“Oh man, Granger is
so
going to kill me.” Moaning, she shoved onto her elbows and risked a peek at the damages. She was surrounded by bags of black caviar. Correction—bags of
banned
black caviar. Thanks to overfishing and pollution, not to mention the continual evaporation of oceans thanks to solar warming, harvest of Sturgeon roe had been illegal for at least a century.

Picking up one of the demolished bags, she stared at it disbelievingly. “What is he doing with these?” Duh, like she needed to have a detailed picture drawn. Plopping the bag down, she grasped the sides of the crate and swung her leg over the side. Wiping the caviar ooze from the knees of her pants, she grabbed the ladder and running light.

As soon as Lucus returned, he'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

 

 

 

Lucus secured the boxes of truffles on the hover cart and scrounged inside his pocket for his wallet. “Any discount tonight, Tarik?”

The native Zondorocian waggled his foot-long ears. Bushy gray brows slashed low, forming a perfect V over his enormous snout and wide-set eyes.

“Well damn.” Curving his mouth into a grin, Lucus counted out the necessary bills. “Can't blame me for trying.”

Tarik snatched the money with another animated ear jiggle.

“Hey, no cause for name calling.” Lucus shook his wallet at Tarik before repocketing the worn and scuffed scrap of leather. “And for your information, I'm considered good-looking by earthling standards.”

After a colorfully rude comeback, Tarik stomped into his wind-battered canvas tent—one of dozens erected in the all-night trade market. Shaking his head at the surly Zondorocian, Lucus strode towards the air strip where he'd parked his ship. The headlights on the hover cart puttering close behind him slashed through the night, periodically illuminating the swarm of sand gnats intent on dive bombing both he and the truffles. Slapping the pesky air invaders away, he scuffed along the desert's heat-baked terrain. Up ahead, the exterior lights glowed on the Liberty. His steps slowed when he spied Rini's stretched, lithe form silhouetted against the massive wing.