CHAPTER 29

“D rop the gun.” Mitchell steps forward into the room.

“No.” Tori’s blaster shakes in her raised hand. “I messed up, but I won’t let Gemma be a slave. I won’t let you take her.” With her other hand, Tori drops a small, silver object—the command initiator for my compulsion chip. It hits the floor with a clink. She lifts her boot and jams it down on the initiator, crushing it underfoot.

Mitchell could have shot her already if he wanted to. He looks from the crushed initiator to Tori’s blaster, brow knitted. “I won’t hurt Gemma. And I don’t want to hurt you. Drop the gun.”

Tori doesn’t lower her weapon. Her irises have taken on the red gleam Pinks get when they’re ready to blow.

“Tor,” I say quietly. I release my grip on the camera stand and take a slow step toward her, trying to calm her without setting her off. “It’s okay, Tor. I trust him.”

Mitchell moves into the room, blaster still raised, and two others crowd in behind him.

Ballga and… Dr. Reid.

Ballga’s eyes glow yellow in the dimness that edges the room. “I won’t hesitate to shoot you, Pink,” she growls. Her lips stay curled up over her pointed incisors. She is so in Lioness mode right now.

Dr. Reid looks intimidating, too. Lightweight body armour has replaced her white lab coat. She plants her booted feet wide, eyes alert, muscles tensed for action. She looks like she knows how to use the long-barrelled blaster she’s pointing at Tor.

It’s three to one. Tori’s got to realize she’s beat.

“You really trust them, Gee?”

I sigh. Glance at Mitchell. His eyes flick to mine and catch. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” I’m probably an idiot to trust anyone after how many times I’ve been betrayed, but… I do.

Tori crouches slowly and sets her blaster on the ground. She presses her palms to the back of her neon head as she rises. Ballga approaches, probably to cuff her. I’m not worried. They won’t hurt her.

I look to Mitchell, not knowing what to say.

The captain holsters his weapon. “Gemma.” He whispers my name like he doesn’t believe I’m really standing here.

I stare into green-brown eyes, feeling all kinds of confused.

Part of me is wary, wondering what kind of deal he made with House de la Cruz, and with his father.

Part of me is cringing because his family just bought me in an auction and that makes things awkward. Even if it’s not what he intends, it was insinuated that a marriage alliance might be expected between our Houses. There might be all kinds of expectations on all sides that I can’t even process right now.

Part of me is terrified because the emotions I felt when I thought he was dead, and the ones that are overwhelming me now, seeing he’s really and truly alive… I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.

I’m in way over my head.

But the part of me that’s overwhelmed by the way Mitchell looks, the way he smells, the kindness in his eyes, the good he’s done despite all the hurt he’s experienced, the way he seems to get me like no one else does, it swirls in my head stronger than all the questions and the worries. It overshadows everything else. I look into Mitchell’s beautiful eyes, and, stupid as it may be, I run to him in a clatter of stiletto heels and throw my arms around him.

And he…

He hugs me to him like I’m something priceless that was lost and then found. Something precious.

I bury my face in his chest and breathe in his woodsy pine soap and undertone of man smell and my throat is closing and my vision is blurring with tears and I feel extremely stupid but I have zero willpower to let go because I feel…

I feel safe .

I feel like there’s finally ground beneath my feet after years of floating on nothing. And it’s not just him. It’s me. It’s that, after all these years, all this fear, all this running, I’m finally able to take a step toward someone in trust.

Mitchell’s cheek rests on the top of my head. He holds me as tightly as I’m holding him, the fingers of one big hand twisting in the silk fabric at my back, the fingers of his other hand laced in my hair. After a long, long time, the pressure of his cheek lifts from my head. But he doesn’t loosen his embrace. He clears his throat. “Ballga, Agatha, could I have a minute with Gemma?”

I open my embarrassingly teary eyes. From my cozy place squashed against Mitchell’s chest I watch Ballga, who’s got Tori’s hands tied behind her back with some kind of tape, lead Tori toward the door.

I’m expecting my proximity to the captain to earn me a look that promises imminent death. But Ballga gives me a sharp-toothed half-smile as she passes. “Guess maybe you were mate material after all,” she mumbles in her growly voice.

Dr. Reid exits behind Ballga’s swaying brindle tail. She stops in the doorway and looks over her shoulder, giving me a smile that shines against her dark skin and an encouraging wink from one golden-brown eye, so I guess that means she’s okay with seeing me in Mitchell’s arms, too.

Wait… did everyone see the auction? Does everyone think we’re, like, getting married or something?

A wave of anxiety threatens to take over, but then the partially intact door thumps closed and I’m alone with Mitchell… Ko nstantin… the captain. And neither of us seems to be in a hurry to let go of the other.

Finally, I look up at him. He’s looking down at me as he holds me.

“I thought you were dead,” I whisper, trying to explain why his shirt is soaked in my tears. “I thought Tori shot you and Sam.”

“ You were worried about me? God, Gemma, I thought you were going to be sold. Forced to marry into one of those warped Houses under compulsion or be used by your dad.” He steps back and looks at me, holding my shoulders. “I should have protected you better.”

I shake my head, incredulous. Long, dark strands swish against silk. “None of this is your fault. My own stupidity got me into this mess. And I’m sorry. So sorry I dragged you into it. So sorry I almost got you killed. And Sam. And Ballga. God, I can’t believe after all that you’d still forgive me. Still help me.”

“Forgive you?” Mitchell laughs. “I was going to ask if you would forgive me.”

I search his face. “Forgive you for what?”

“Forgive me for not going with my gut and leaving Vince on that dinosaur planet. Forgive me for being the heir of the House that’s drugging children and sending them to the front lines. Forgive me for buying you in an auction like a… like a thing. Like an object. ”

Regret tinges his expression. “I’m so sorry, Gemma. I—I couldn’t think of any other way to help you. Sam and Ballga and I were out so long that your trail was cold. Even Ballga couldn’t track you. We searched everywhere, the entirety of Hack Town, but we couldn’t find you. The auction was the only way I could get you back.”

Mitchell shakes his head. “The sight of you playing that violin under compulsion… God, Gemma, I mean, you looked beautiful, you played beautifully, but God, they were auctioning you .” He says it like he still can’t believe it.

“Not going to lie, it was scary,” I admit. “It was like my body wasn’t my own. I was screaming inside and smiling on the surface.” I cover my eyes, shake my head. “It reminded me of how I felt after my dad killed my grandparents. Trapped. Helpless. I wanted to fight back, but I couldn’t.”

“But you did.” Mitchell slides his hands over mine and gently uncovers my face. Looks into my teary eyes. “You found a way to fight back, even under compulsion. You knew, didn’t you? You knew it was me behind House Konstantin’s bids. That’s why you spoke Varunese. That’s why you played the alternate ending. Somehow, I knew you would.”

“How did you get House de la Cruz to…” I shake my head.

It’s all so complicated, and all I really want right now is to be held. I’m not running from my problems this time. I know there’s a lot to work out, but I just want this one moment to be with Mitchell. I slide my hands along his arms, up around his neck, and lean into him, resting my head against his chest again.

“I’ll explain all that,” he says, not hesitating to wrap his arms around me and hold me to his body. “There’s so much I need to tell you. But there’s one more thing I need to ask your forgiveness for. One thing I want to do before all the complications come crashing down.”

“You haven’t done anything I could need to forgive. I’m the one—”

“Gemma, please.” He shifts our position so he can look in my eyes again. “Just let me say it. I need to say it. That night, in the cockpit, when we were listening to your music. When we kissed. I—you thought I didn’t want you. But it wasn’t that at all. I wanted to explain, but you ran away, and…” He shakes his head again and runs a hand through his hair, his other arm still curled around me. He takes a breath as if to say something, then lets it out.

And I realize Mitchell is nervous.

Captain Perfect. Nervous.

“Of course I wanted you, Gemma. I wanted you bad. But I could tell…” He searches my face like he’s trying to find the right words. “I could tell other guys hadn’t… treated you well. I didn’t want to be like them. I didn’t want to just take . As much as I wanted you, I also worried I’d ruin everything if I—if we—” A choked little laugh escapes him. “We’d only known each other for two days. We didn’t even know each other’s real names. And I didn’t want it—us—to only be about sex because…”

He starts to run his hand through his hair again and pauses halfway through, fingers still caught in the strands. He seems even more vulnerable than he did that night, lying in his captain’s chair with his eyes closed. Even more than when I saw bombs exploding in his eyes. “We barely know each other. You’re barely of age. Our paths in life are totally different.” He drops his hand heavily to his side. “It sounds ridiculous—I can hear how ridiculous it sounds—but I sort of had it in my head that I didn’t want to ruin my chances at us having a real relationship by going too fast. By being like… like other guys.”

My mouth drops open. I don’t know what to say. Captain Perfect wants a relationship with me?

He keeps going, looking more nervous and vulnerable than ever. “I… I’m not asking you to jump into anything, and it’s okay if you don’t want to… but I was sort of wondering if I could… kiss you? Would you give me another chance at that?”

Oh.

My.

God.

Captain Perfect is nervous because he likes me, and he wants to kiss me.

The hugest grin of all time spreads across my face. Huger than when he said DJ Rollercoaster blows RetroX out of the water. “I think I can forgive you.” I cock my head playfully. “In fact… I’m pretty sure the only thing I won’t be able to forgive is if you don’t kiss me. Like, immediately.”

If I could stop smiling.

I don’t think I can stop smiling.

I’m totally going to ruin our first kiss—well, our first kiss where we actually know each other’s names, anyway—because my grin is so big all he’s going to get is teeth.

I’ve never kissed a boy just for the sake of a kiss. Like, without expecting it to lead to something else immediately. I’ve never kissed someone I feel all these feelings for.

Suddenly, I’m a little nervous, too.

Suddenly, I’m a lot nervous.

Suddenly I’m catapulted straight back to that heart racing, knees weak, twelve-year-old girl in the presence of her first crush feeling that almost sent me running the night I found Mitchell listening to music in his cockpit. I never really got to experience this feeling growing up. Never learned how to deal with it because I jumped straight into sex way too fast, way too young, and for all the wrong reasons when my grandparents died. And now…

Now Mitchell’s going to kiss me, and I’ve never wanted something so bad and been so scared of it at the same time.

I look down, mind suddenly swirling with all the reasons why this is too good to be real, why he can’t possibly truly want me. The black tips of my shoes poke out from under a curtain of pink silk, and the worn tips of Mitchell’s boots are less than a step away. I swallow against my constricting throat.

“But I’m a Medici,” I whisper. “I’m a de la Cruz.”

“I’m a Konstantin.” His voice floats softly above my head.

“I… I’ve killed people.”

“So have I.”

“I’ve been with a lot of guys.”

“That doesn’t intimidate me.”

“But… but my eyes are stained. I’m stained.”

“Your eyes are beautiful. You are beautiful.”

“Even with the stains?” I finally look up at Mitchell.

The way he looks back at me, I think he knows I don’t just mean the silver specks in my eyes.

“Your eyes would be beautiful, like sapphires, even without the silver, just like your grandfather said.” Mitchell raises a hand to caress my face, running a thumb along my cheekbone, just under my eye. “But with the stains, your eyes are like starlight.” The stroke of his thumb against my skin is possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt. “You know how the light we see in the night sky has travelled so far and so long that what we see isn’t what’s present now, only a record of the past? Of what made the galaxy into what it is today?”

He steps closer, lifting his other hand so he’s cradling my face. “It’s the same with your eyes. Those stains aren’t who you are now. But they’re a part of your past, a part of what made you who you are. A part of what connects us, because we’ve both been through a lot and learned from it. And that little girl with the blue eyes—the one in the video—she’s part of you, too. But I don’t want the little girl. I want the woman who shines with starlight.”

Before I can process what Captain Perfect is saying and realize that’s what I love about his eyes, too—the way they’re a window into the soul of the kind man he is now while also glimmering with the sadness and pain he’s overcome—he’s kissing me. But he’s not kissing my mouth. He presses soft lips to each eyelid, and then each cheek. His hands cup the sides of my face as he drops his lips to meet mine.

Mitchell kisses me with a gentle intensity that echoes the way he held me when he first burst through the door. There’s a need behind his kisses, like he’s been desperate to find something precious, something that was lost and now is found and that he will never let go of again. A need that quickly moves our kisses beyond gentle to devouring. To kisses that declare me his. Kisses that say he’s not going to lose me again. That he doesn’t want to let me go.

I think mine are saying the same thing about him, too.

And that should terrify me.

But I’m too lost in the sensation of his lips and his tongue and the hands that have moved from my face, down my neck, and over my shoulders, now sliding against the silk of my dress. I arch into that touch, and then we’re moving. I’m half-dragging him, or maybe he’s half-carrying me. Maybe both.

I barely notice the clatter of the metal folding chair being knocked to the floor before my back is against the wall. Mitchell’s hand, warm and calloused, parts the high slit in my skirt and moves along my thigh.

Maybe this is going to turn into more than a kiss after all.

And, God, I am so down for that.

My fingers twist in the back of Mitchell’s shirt as he lifts me against the wall, and I think a sound may have escaped my lips that I did not intend to let out, because I hear Tori’s muffled voice from the other side of the broken door.

“Oh my God, Gee, are you guys having sex in there? You do realize we’re all waiting out here, right? Can you not keep your damn legs shut until we get back to the ship or wherever the hell it is we’re going?”

It’s such a classic Tori statement that I almost want to forgive her for betraying me. Almost.

I stop kissing Mitchell and grin. He’s kissing teeth for a moment and then he’s grinning, too. We just look at each other, smiling for one shared heartbeat, then another. And then he lowers me from where he’s got me pinned against the wall and clears his throat .

“I, uh, I guess we should go back to the ship. Agatha can look you over, though she’ll eventually have to take you to her office to remove the compulsion chip. I’m sure you’d like to rest after all this.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish, but still he still keeps his other arm around me, still not fully letting me go.

“There are other things I’d like to do more,” I say hopefully, even though I know the sleeping situation on the ship is not exactly conducive to the kinds of activities I’m imagining. And I do need medical attention. And I should probably find out what’s going on with House de la Cruz and House Konstantin and decide what we’re going to do with Tori and so, so many other things.

I don’t want this moment to end. Don’t want to leave the simplicity of being alone together in this windowless, empty room to confront the storm of reality that will surely come crashing down the moment we step through that broken door. But I’ve resolved to face my problems. No more hiding. No more running.

I sigh, stand on my toes, and kiss Mitchell one more time.