black and gray by the Fold. But the sight of Kaliis Idraban Gilwraeth with no shirt on, even all beat up, makes me want to thank my Maker I’ve lived to see this moment. He’s beautiful. Those sculpted lines and that solid muscle and—I mean, he’s got an eight-pack, and that stupid V that leads down to disappear (tragically) below his belt, both of which are meant to be creatures of myth and legend.
Swoon.
Lucky Auri.
“Is something amiss, Finian?”
I startle when I realize he’s looking right at me, and snap my mouth shut. “Just checking in,” I tell him, sauntering closer and nodding at his biceps. “You got a license for these weapons, sir?”
His brows crowd together in handsome confusion. “I am proficient in weaponry that …” But he trails off, because he can tell he’s missed the point.
“Never mind,” I tell him. “I’ve got a question.”
He somehow knows to be wary, turning to get a better look at me. “Ask.”
“Back on the tug,” I say, gesturing to the spot over his heart where the bruises are blackest, “once I found out the cigarillo case had blocked that Kill shot, and once I stopped thanking the Maker you were alive, I realized I could open the thing.”
Our Tank’s interest sharpens. “I take it you did.”
“I did,” I confirm. “And I still can’t figure it out, Kal. There was a note inside it. A note in my handwriting. A note I am absolutely positive I have never written.”
He returns to the handsome frown. “And what did it say?”
“It said, ‘Tell her the truth.’ ” I’m watching him keenly now. “Do you know what that means?”
He shakes his head a fraction. “I do not,” he replies.
“Because we can’t afford for anyone to be keeping anything from anyone else right now,” I continue. “If there’s something you’re not telling Auri, or Scar, or Zila, or even your crazy sister, I get it, but now’s the time, Kal.”
His expression frosts over. “Perhaps the note was for you. You believe you were the one who wrote it. And you were the one who read it.”
“But it was your gift,” I point out.
“And yet I cannot answer your question.”
I have absolutely no idea if he’s being straight with me. He might as well be Zila, for all I can read of him right now. After a long pause, I sigh.
“You need anything?”
“No.”
“Well, Zila has the bridge,” I tell him. “Holler if you’re in trouble.”
“Del’nai, friend.”
As I make my way to my quarters, I’m racking my brain for any kind of secret I could be keeping. Anything the note might have meant for me. Apart from not telling Scar that I’d crawl over cut glass for a date with her if we both survive this thing, I’m drawing a blank. And the note—however the hells it happened—seems like a huge amount of effort to go to for an unrequited crush.
The door hums closed behind me, and I hit the button for the gravity release. I’m still thinking as the soft countdown completes and the pressure on my body eases. I have no answers.
In fact, as I shed my suit and push off the ground to curl into a ball for sleep, I have nothing but questions.
· · · · ·
A soft chime wakes me, and as I stretch slowly, I revel in how much better I feel—my sore muscles have unlocked, and my body likes me again.
Then I remember that Ty’s a GIA prisoner, the galaxy’s poised on the edge of war, and Squad 312 has no idea what to do to stop it all.
Aaaaaand that brings me down with a thud.
The chime’s followed up by Scar’s voice over the intercom.
“Good morning, you incredibly good-looking people. It’s 08:00 shipboard time; we’re sixty minutes from our destination. I’ll see you on the bridge when you’ve risen from sleep and made yourselves even more beautiful. If that’s possible.”
I shed my uniform and, with a gentle touch against the ceiling, send myself sailing over to the corner where the hydrosonic shower’s located. I activate the force field that’ll keep the rest of the room dry, close my eyes in pleasure as the nozzles in the wall emit a gentle mist, and let the sonic part of the shower do the rest, the vibrations combining with the moisture to scrub away the dirt, sweat, and panic of the last couple of days. My grandparents had pretty much the same unit on the station where they lived, and though at first I thought