would make sure Maisie never felt scared or alone ever again. Under his protection, she would always have a safe home. She would only know the warmth and security of his love. If she wanted children, he would make sure they were raised in a home filled with happiness. Neither she nor their children would ever know hunger, and—
“Shit!” Terror jolted upright as the thought of children and hunger spurred a forgotten task. He hastily unlatched his harness so he could reach the cockpit and personally relay the information back to Vicious.
“What’s wrong?” Lethal asked, alarmed.
Certain it wouldn’t make sense to any of the men, he nevertheless answered, “Pickles.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
With a snip of her clippers, Maisie freed the perfectly ripe orange from its branch. She checked it over for imperfections and obvious signs of rot or insect problems before placing it into the cloth sack draped across her torso. The bag was three-quarters full, and soon she would turn it in for another empty one.
As far as work went, orange harvesting wasn’t the worst job she could have taken. Walking the rows of lush trees and enjoying the citrus scent on the cool, crisp wind was nice. The pay wasn’t half bad, and her room and board were provided by the farm owners. She shared a dormitory with eleven other women, all of them kind and looking for privacy, just like her. No one asked questions. No one wanted to get close.
That was just fine by her. She never wanted to get close to anyone ever again. Getting close meant pain, unimaginable, unending pain.
Maisie swallowed hard as the painful lump of grief tried to choke the breath right out of her body. Five months, and no word from him. Nothing but silence. She had been forced to accept that he had either died before Hazard had gotten him to the Valiant for treatment, or he had died in an attack or some other act of war. Death was the only reason he wouldn’t have come for her.
Sometimes, late at night, alone in her small bed, the agony of those thoughts left her trembling and heartbroken. She had abandoned him, left him to die with his fellow soldiers. She should have been at his side, holding his hand, kissing his forehead. He deserved to pass knowing that he was loved so very much.
In the early days of her escape, she had questioned her decision to continue soldiering on, prolonging her suffering and exhaustion. And then, one morning, only days after finally reaching Agro-714, she had realized that she did have a reason to live. It was a very important one, and she had sworn then that no matter what happened, she wasn’t going to stop fighting.
Maisie eyed the thick branches in front of her and picked another ripe orange. She moved left to right, top to bottom, to clear the tree. When her sack was full, she slipped her clippers into the holster on her apron and started her trek to the waiting truck at the end of the row. She joined the line of harvesters and adjusted the strap of the sack as it cut into her neck.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her back had been bothering her lately. It was to be expected, all things considered. All that climbing up ladders, stretching to reach oranges and stooping low to find fruit was hell on her body. She had handled the physicality of the job well until the last couple of days when it seemed as though her body was struggling a bit more.
I need to make a plan. I’ll have to find other work and a different housing situation at the end of the season.
Agro-714 was nice enough. She figured staying here would be best. It was beyond Alliance control, and the Splinter forces had no interest in the planet. There were other, smaller farming operations where she could work. The produce processing plants were supposed to be fairly safe. They didn’t offer housing, but the hours were regular. Plus, they had some on-site employee perks she was going to need.
When it was her turn, Maisie handed over the sack and watched the scale. Sometimes the grizzled foreman tried to shave a little weight off the tickets. Two or three oranges in a sack didn’t seem like much, but over the day, those small amounts added up to larger amounts of money, especially if the weight caused her to miss a picking bonus. He marked the