CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Renn

There's no one who wants me dead more than Colin Locke. It's been six years since I've seen his face in person, and it's even more sinister when it appears in my nightmares.

It wasn't an anomaly that the transmitter had picked up after all.

How he intercepted the signal, I don't know. But it doesn't matter right now because I have to keep my rage in check; one false move, and Maven or I are dead—possibly both. The sickening pain in my stomach is overwhelming, knowing that he touched her, that he hurt her. But the fury pulsing through my body is mostly to the credit of my own foolishness. This is all happening because of me. I see a fresh cut across his cheek, and even in this horrible situation, I'm proud she did that, but right now he has her in his arms, and I need to get her out of here.

"Well, well, well. Captain Anton, how good to see you again," he hisses, pushing the knife harder against her skin. Maven lets out a wince, and it feels like a punch to my stomach.

"Let. Her. Go," I growl.

"Not a very friendly welcome, Captain. I am disappointed. I thought you'd be glad to see an old comrade after all these years." His voice drips with sarcasm.

"I said let her go, or the next bullet goes through your head."

He shakes his head in disgust. "Goodness, Aldrenn. The man I knew would never resort to such violence. I thought using the dog as bait would have done the trick, but what a surprise when it was her who came instead. And clearly . . ." He pauses for a moment. "I underestimated how much you care for her." He looks down at Maven with a twisted smile. "That changes things. I can't decide what will be more satisfying—killing you, or making you watch as I kill her first." I step forward, and he clicks his tongue. "I don't think so, Captain. I would choose your next move carefully."

"Renn, what's going on?" Maven asks through a trembling voice, and I finally bring myself to look at her directly. The rain has started to let up, so I can see her clearer.

Blood drips down her face, and there's utter confusion and terror in her eyes, making me want to break every bone in Locke's body—to make him suffer. Silently, I'm pleading, begging for her forgiveness, hoping that she can see it in my eyes.

"It's going to be okay," I say slowly in her language.

I should have told her, if only for her protection, to warn her of what could happen. I should have told her everything. But I'm a fucking idiot for letting my guard down, daring to imagine that a happy life was possible for me—a life with her, and now it will cost me more than I could ever have imagined.

"You know, I've been watching you for a couple of days. I had to make sure I had truly found the great Captain Aldrenn Anton, and I gotta say, you've got some nerve. You honestly thought you'd get to live some comfortable little life? Find yourself a piece of ass and go on your merry way?" I step forward, and he presses the knife into her neck again to stop me. "Does she even know who you really are?"

I want to vomit at the thought of him watching us—stalking us. Only one of us is walking out of this, and I will die trying to make sure he takes his last breath, even if I take mine as well. As long as she's safe . . . that's all that matters.

"You certainly haven't changed. You've always loved hearing yourself talk, haven't you, Locke?" He snickers at this. "And you will not say another thing about her. This is between us. Man to man."

His grip on Maven only tightens, and I realize I'm holding my breath. My expression must say it all, because Locke smiles wickedly as he says, "My, my, Aldrenn. I see that your concern for other people hasn't changed in the slightest. That was always your weakness—you care too much. Pathetic, if you ask me. Even the admiral saw that. What a disappointment you were to him."

This time, I laugh in response, because the only thing more satisfying than killing him would be killing the admiral. He gave the order after all.

"Why are you stalling, Locke?" His brow furrows. "But that was always your weakness, wasn't it? Only willing to fight those who are weaker than yourself, never up for a real challenge. That's why you targeted those planets and people who never stood a chance." Locke's lips pull over his teeth, snarling like a rabid animal. I knew that's what would hit him the hardest; his ego could never handle that I'm a better fighter than him. "Now be a real man. Let her go and let's finish this." His gaze narrows for a moment.

"Put the gun down first," he says through clenched teeth. My eyes dart to Maven, but this time, as I look into the blue abyss, her eyes tell a different story. There's strength; she wants to fight.

That's the Maven I know. A fighter.

The only thing we have to our advantage is that he won't fully understand what we say to each other.

"Maven." She looks at me, her blue eyes full of fury. "Whatever you do, do it fast," I say calmly.

"Renn, what—" she starts to say, but Colin puts a hand over her mouth, still holding the knife against her neck. I see the realization in her eyes of what to do next.

"PUT DOWN THE GUN NOW!" he screams, but then, as we all move in slow motion, she bites down hard on his hand. Colin yelps, and the second he loses his grip, she tries to break free, but I still can't get a clear shot without risking hitting her. She pulls away for a moment only to be tugged back as Locke backhands her so hard across the face that she falls to the ground, unmoving.

Absolute horror is all I feel as I fire the gun, hitting Locke in the shoulder. He stumbles back a few steps, grasping the wound. Before I can fire again, I lose my balance, slipping in the mud, and it costs me dearly as Locke throws the knife still in his hand, striking me in the arm and causing me to drop the gun. Fury numbs the pain as I pull it from my flesh just in time to see Locke charging me. He tackles me, our bodies making a loud splat on the sodden ground.

With the knife still in my hand, I aim to stab him in the chest, only to find that he's wearing body armor underneath. The blade only manages to rip the fabric of his jacket.

He hits it out of my hands, then uses his forearm to press into my throat, blocking my airway. I reach up, digging my fingers into the gunshot wound on his shoulder. He screams but doesn't let up. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see movement.

Maven.

She picks up the knife and stabs Colin in the back, but because of the armor, it does nothing.

"The gun," I manage to say, choking for air. She looks around, desperately trying to locate it. Locke removes his arm, punching me in the face before he stands to chase after Maven.

A tang of blood coats my tongue, but in seconds, I'm on my feet. Before he can reach her, I shove him down into the mud, except this time, I'm above him, pinning him.

"How has it been for you, Aldrenn? Knowing that they're all dead because of you? She'll be another soul to add to your list of failures," he shouts up at me. He'll do anything he can to make me suffer, but I intend to do the same. I will make him bleed, so I punch him repeatedly, my fist making contact with his face over and over again.

His attempt to fuel my despair works, so much so that I don't notice the knife now lying close to Locke's hand. He grips it, despite all the mud, and stabs me in the side. The adrenaline still thrums through me to block some of the pain, but I feel it enough that Locke manages to push me off, and I slip again on the muddy ground, landing on my back. The wound in my side stings as I try to get up, and I only manage to rise to my knees to pull the knife out of my flesh once again.

Click.

Locke holds my gun, aiming it at my chest and holding his shoulder with his other hand. Blood flows from his mouth and nose. Maven is standing a few yards away where she has been desperately looking for the gun, but now it's too late. She looks from Locke to me. And I hate myself more than ever, because I'm about to die in front of her. And then what? Will Locke shoot her too?

"Run," I tell her, and she shakes her head. "Maven, run." But she doesn't move.

"Just like I said, Renn, you couldn't save the crew, and you won't save her either," he hisses at me. I turn to Maven to see her blue eyes wide and fearful, and there's nothing I can do to make that fear go away. If I wasn't about to die, that look would kill me enough, knowing that I did this to her. Colin has won.

"Maven," I say, and her lips tremble, the emotion getting caught in my throat. "Forgive me. Please." I bring my attention back to Locke. If he's going to kill me then he'll look me in the eyes as he does it. I won't go down as a coward.

"I believe this is goodbye, Captain, and . . ." I hear a snarl, and Locke turns just in time for Shy to jump on top of him, taking him to the ground.

In a matter of seconds, I'm on my feet, sprinting as Shy latches on to his arm, shaking it violently. The gun lies on the ground a few inches away from his hand. He rolls onto his stomach and tries to reach for it, but I kick it away and then jump on top of him, shoving his face down into a muddy puddle. He gurgles and chokes in his attempts to break free for air, but he can't lift his head above the water while Shy still chews up his arm. He jerks one last time in a final attempt, but my hands shove his face deeper into the mud.

It feels like hours and seconds all at once, but I know the moment Locke is dead. His body goes still as one does only in death. Shy's teeth still sink into his flesh as she yanks at his arm. I'm overwhelmed by what she just did for me. "It's okay, girl. Let go," I say calmly. She obeys and lets it fall with a splat on the soggy ground.

I'm gripping Colin so hard that my fingers are locked up when I try to pry them away. Shy has a cord wrapped around her neck with the end frayed. She must have chewed through it to break free. Smart girl. I remove what's left of the cord and toss it aside. I stand, staggering back due to the flaring pain from my side. The rain is just drizzling now, revealing the disturbing scene in front of me. Colin's body face down in a puddle, and Maven falling to her knees, staring at his body with wide, terrified eyes, frozen, with mud and blood covering her. I cautiously approach her. She doesn't move a muscle or look my way, not even as I kneel beside her. Shy trots over and licks her hand, trying to get her attention and to tell her, in her way, that it's over now.

"Mave?" Nothing. She's in shock, and I realize she might not even be able to hear me, but I have to get her inside the house. "Maven. You're okay. It's over. You're safe." Her body rocks slowly to the side, her eyes closing before I catch her, afraid she might faint. I try to brush back her hair to look at the wound on her temple. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. I've got you," I say, pulling her into my arms. She lazily lifts her eyes to me. "It's okay. You're okay," I say again, and I don't know if it's unconsciously or not, but she wraps her arms around my neck.

I stand slowly, the wound in my side making me dizzy for a moment, but I manage to hold her legs in one arm with the other around her back. Shy follows me, her eyes on Maven in my arms. The ground is soaked and slick, so I move gingerly but as quickly as I can into the house, easing the door open and then setting her onto the couch.

"Don't move," I tell her, removing my coat and her shoes carefully before wrapping a blanket around her and then quickly moving to get the fire going again. She pulls the blanket around her tightly but still says nothing. Shy whines as she looks at me, clearly aware that I'm injured, probably from the scent of all the blood.

"Stay," I tell her, so she sits beside Maven. The flames begin sparking to life, so I rush upstairs, not caring about the mud and blood I'm trekking over the floor as I retrieve the box beneath my bed, amazed that I haven't passed out from blood loss yet. It must be the adrenaline keeping me upright. I open it quickly and swipe a glob of the healing ointment onto my wound, enough that I can take care of Maven first then reexamine it later. I throw it back into the box to carry it downstairs.

Maven is looking at the flames roaring to life in the fireplace as I set the box down gently, trying not to startle her—pulling the coffee table closer so I can sit in front of her.

"I'm going to check you for any internal injuries, then heal the wound on your head. Is that alright?"

She nods slowly in response.

I place my thumb on the reader, and the lid springs open again. Maven turns slightly, eyeing it with no emotion on her face as I pull out the body scanner first.

"This won't hurt. Just hold still for a moment." The device itself is small, so I hope it won't scare her. Maven doesn't even blink as I scan the device over her, the results quickly read back that she miraculously has no concussion or any other internal physical damage.

She remains unfazed as I pull up the tin, gently moving her damp hair to the side so I can apply the healing ointment to the gash near her temple. "Does that feel better?" She nods again, still looking toward the flames. "I'll get a shower started for you," I say, not expecting a response as I head to the bathroom. I make sure the water isn't too cold or too hot so it doesn't shock her system. Then I lay out clean towels and place her bag on the counter, all the while, Maven still sits in silence. It's unnerving, but I know at some point, the shock will fade, and whatever happens after, I need to be here for her, if only to explain everything.

I take her hand in mine, guiding her toward the bathroom, and once inside, without a word, she robotically begins to remove her clothes.

"I'll be out here whenever you're ready. Take your time."

Then I shut the door softly. I don't want to intrude on her privacy, but I linger near the door for a minute or two, making sure she actually makes it into the shower. Once she does, the pain hits. Like my brain switched the off button as soon as I knew she was okay. I stumble, gripping the wall as the pain in my side overpowers me. I place a hand over it, only to pull it back and see my blood coating my fingers. The ointment I added a few moments ago clearly wasn't enough. It's probably going to take the rest of the salve to heal a wound this deep and severe. Practically collapsing onto the couch, I scoop out a generous amount and apply a thick layer over my side as well as onto the deep cut on my arm. It takes several minutes to feel it working, but it does the job well enough.

I know I'm not handling this situation as best as I can, but I honestly don't know what to do. There's no "standard procedure" for this. For starters, I just killed a man in front of her. If she doesn't already have enough of a reason to be completely freaked out—I don't know what will happen once she knows the whole truth.

I can still hear the shower running, so I walk over to a chair at the small kitchen table and practically fall into it. Shy comes over and rests a head on my knee. "Good girl, Shy. Good girl," I say, rubbing her head for a moment until she walks over to the fire to get warm.

I push the palms of my hands into my eyes. This has been the worst night of my life, and it's only going to get worse. I know the sounds of her screams will haunt me for the rest of eternity. For a moment, she was balancing between life and death, a dangerous game that I forced her into. Maven is my one and only good dream, a light in my life that has given me hope, but now I've pulled her into my nightmares.

I feel like I'm going to shatter. I know what I have to do because there's only one thing I can do. Leave. And I need to leave not just this town, but this planet, because I clearly don't have the strength to stay away from her, and I won't let her get hurt again. It's the only way to keep her safe, because the thought of her in danger . . . it isn't going to happen again.

Even now, with Colin dead, there's no way to know what havoc has been conspiring over the last six years. Maybe he was alone, or maybe someone will come looking for him, and that thought makes the fear pulsing through me all-consuming.

After all we've been through, the good and the bad, she deserves to know everything, and after she knows, I'll leave with a promise that she will never have to see me again. I hope that promise will ease her enough to forget about this night, forget about me, and move on.

I go to the kitchen sink to try to wipe off at least some of the blood and mud before I feel too dizzy from blood loss, forcing me to sit at the table. I bury my face in my hands, letting out a shaky breath. If fate is real, then it played me. It brought me here to find her, then ripped it all away. I had one last little piece inside me that was worth saving, and now it will be gone too. This will break me, completely, but I have to leave this place. It has to be done, if only to save the life of the woman I love.