The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,74
finding the Tucker Legacy, let alone rushing off to some uncharted planet, if his brother wasn’t with him.
Denver leaned closer in the small space so he could meet Laramie eye to eye. “You need to get out of there.”
At least he hadn’t said that out loud. “Move in with me. It’ll be tight, but it’s only for a week.”
Laramie’s eyes darted pointedly in Spence’s direction.
“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you.”
“Shit,” Marit grumbled. “I’ll do it, all right? She can move in with me—”
“No,” Denver and Laramie said together. They chuckled at their vehement agreement, but it was Laramie who elaborated.
“There’s no reason you should have to be miserable because of my bad choices. You don’t deserve that.” He looked at Denver. “You don’t deserve it, either.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about ‘deserve.’ I want you healthy. Otherwise, this whole insane mess is for nothing.”
In the end, Laramie didn’t need to speak. Denver felt his gratitude. Beneath it, there was a darkness that Laramie was trying to hide from him—part anger, part shame.
But those things paled next to the simple flood of relief.
Chapter Fifteen
Laramie and Ginn argued every time he returned to his room for another load of belongings, their muffled voices buzzing through the Jiminy’s short corridors. Denver couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tone and the pained look in Laramie’s eyes each time he returned to Denver’s room told the story. They’d moved Denver’s bed aside to make room for the dialysis machine and crammed clothes into drawers until it felt like every inch of space was taken.
“Is that everything?”
Laramie threw himself down on the bed they’d now be sharing.
“You need to do a treatment.”
“Or should I call you ‘sir’ now, like Dusty?”
“I’d like that, actually. It’s about time you started showing me some respect.”
That at least earned him a laugh.
Denver stayed out of the way, busying himself with rearranging another drawer while Laramie hooked himself up to the machine. Finally, when its incessant whine filled the room, Laramie relaxed back onto a pile of pillows with a sigh.
“I hate to bring her up,” Denver said, “but what’s going to happen with Ginn?”
“She talked to Rand. Luckily for him, the Jumper is fast. He’ll be able to catch up to Dusty’s fleet about the same time they catch up to us.”
“And then what?” Denver asked.
Laramie shrugged. “Either they come with us on the Legacy, or they stay and take their chances with Mars.”
Denver couldn’t keep his distance another second. He moved closer, studying the unhealthy hue of his brother’s skin and the heavy bags under his eyes. He put the back of his fingers against Laramie’s forehead and wasn’t surprised to find it hot to the touch. How long had he been running a fever?
But there was a note of thankfulness in his voice.
“Do you need anything?”
“You got it.”
He found Spence in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes they’d left when Dusty’s message had come in.
“How’s Laramie?” Spence asked.
Bad, Denver wanted to say. Another day in there, and we might have been in real trouble. But Laramie wouldn’t want him talking about it with anybody, so he lied. “He’s fine. He just needs some rest.”
Spence didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”
He stretched to put the last of the dishes away, and Denver leaned back against the counter to watch him, glad to have a minute alone with him, even if it was only for small talk.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Spence said.
“Going for the ship, you mean?”
“That, and letting him move into your room.” Spence closed the cabinet and turned to face him. “All of it. It’s good that you’re willing to fight for him.”
“Somebody has to. He’s too proud to do it himself.”
Spence nodded, and looked down at the floor. Now that he was through using the sink, Denver angled in behind him to fill a glass of water for Laramie. It felt like a game, trying not