moment of tense silence, Hazard sighed. “Fine. Be an asshole.” He stood up and scratched at his irritated neck. “If you can’t be honest with me, be honest with yourself.”
Terror set his jaw as Hazard walked away. Irritated, he shot out of his seat and quietly moved through the first floor of the cabin to the bathroom that had been set aside for their use. It was a small but very tidy space, and he locked the door for some privacy. He leaned over the white sink, gripping the edges of it so tightly he expected the entire thing to come off the wall. He lifted his gaze to the mirror over the sink and studied the haggard lines on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. Even the one that was missing had a sunken, tired appearance.
After his weeks in captivity, he found it hard to look at his reflection. The mirror in the bathroom in his quarters was covered so he didn’t have to see his face every morning and night. When he did catch a glimpse of himself all he saw was failure. Failure to evade capture. Failure to escape captivity. Failure to find the mole. Failure to recognize that Devious wasn’t playing with a full deck. Failure to protect Maisie.
He closed his eye and inhaled a shuddering, painful breath. He hadn’t failed her yet. He refused to fail her. He wanted nothing more than to walk out the door behind him, slink upstairs and sneak her out a window. But then what? Where would he take her? Toward Rivertown?
The oldest Ryderwood son had told him the area was swarming with corrupt government police. Even if he could sneak her through all of the police, how would he get her off the planet? They were hundreds of miles from The City and Blue Shores, the only two areas on the planet that had spaceship docks.
No. The only real option was to get her back on the Valiant and broker a deal. It wouldn’t be easy, and he would have to call in all of his favors to get it done. Savage would be the most difficult to handle, but Terror had ways of dealing with that asshole.
With his mind made up, he turned on the cold water and splashed his face a few times. He wouldn’t be able to explain everything to Maisie, though. He couldn’t risk Savage or anyone else figuring out what he had planned. He needed Maisie to react honestly, to show real fear and panic when the time came.
She’ll hate you for it.
Probably.
But she’ll be alive.
Without you.
He ignored the painful sting of that acknowledgment. The fantasy that Hazard had described wasn’t a possibility. He had done too much, seen too much, to ever deserve a mate and children. Some would argue his genetics were some of the finest in the entire force, but he knew better. They were the genetics of a killer. That’s what he did best. Hunt and kill.
Best to let those genes—and his foolish dreams of keeping Maisie—die.
Chapter Eight
Maisie woke to the gentle shake of a hand on her shoulder. Inhaling sharply, she rolled over to see Fay standing over her. She smiled tightly and signed, “It’s time.”
Feeling as though she had only slept a minute, Maisie rubbed her face and yawned before forcing herself to get up. She made quick use of the bathroom attached to Fay’s room and drank water straight from the tap, cupping it in her hands and bringing it to her dry mouth until she had her fill. When she was done, she found her boots at the end of the bed. They were still damp inside when she slipped her feet into them, and she grimaced at the feel of cold wetness seeping into her clean, dry socks. Kneeling down to tie them, she made sure to securely fasten the loops. The last thing she needed was to trip on a loose lace and fall flat on her face in the dark.
Adhering to the general’s timeline, they were out the door and trekking through the dark before the five-minute warning expired. She kept her head down and stayed close to Fay who had volunteered to lead them the last few miles of their trip. Cotton had come along as well both dogs. Clove still butted against her hand every now and then, seeking out scratches and pets. She enjoyed the feel of his fur under her fingers, certain it would be the