CHAPTER SIX
Silent Contemplation
“How are you two?” I opened my eyes to the sound of Cash’s voice. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep again, but the problem with only getting one to two hours a night at a time was I was always ready to knock out again at a moment’s notice.
I might have even passed out mid-kiss with Lewis. I hoped he didn’t mind.
He sucked in a long breath and popped out of the bed. Lewis walked over to Cash. “Think she’s asleep.”
“That’s good. Probably needs it.” Cash leaned against the door. With my eyes closed and my back turned, he couldn’t know I was awake. I should probably move, only the bed was warm and I was having a pretty good bout of feeling sorry for myself.
Eventually, I’d find my backbone again. I wasn’t there quite yet.
“Her blood sugar got really low. No idea when she ate last. She woke feeling awful, had the good sense to wake me, and I took care of it. Then she had a pretty good cry. Terrible without her talking.”
Cash cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go check out everything for tomorrow? I’ll wake her and see if I can help her feel better.”
“Thanks for leaving me with her for a while.”
“Hell, brother. If I’d had to jab her with all of those needles, I’d have needed it, too.”
My brain was currently not functioning on all cylinders. I’d really not realized Cash had made up an excuse to leave Lewis alone with me. I wasn’t going to complain—or wouldn’t have if my mouth could have formed words.
Cash strolled over to me and sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand along the length of my body. When he got to my waist, it would have been ridiculous to have pretended to still be asleep. I would have had to have been outright passed out to not feel his hands on me.
I rolled over to look at him, and he smiled. “You’re all warm-and-squishy-looking right now.”
Squishy? I raised my eyebrows. He laughed. Apparently he could speak my silent body language. I wasn’t surprised. Cash had always been able to discern the indiscernible.
“Come on, let’s get you up and moving around a bit. Damian has cooked us spaghetti. It’s almost ready. Seems you really need to eat. Maybe you’ll feel more like talking after a meal.” He shrugged. “Or not. When you can talk again, you’ll talk. Tomorrow, you’ll have the small procedure, and you’ll never see the needles again in the same way.”
If Lewis obsessed, Cash pushed forward. Those were their ways. I took Cash’s hand and let him lead me from the bed. My feet touched the floor, and my legs threatened to give out. By the universe, I was in so much trouble. Why was I so weak? It was like my mind had decided it was done with everything for the time being.
Walking included.
Cash scooped me up. “You held it together for too long alone. And given that I told the machine to run every conceivable test on you while Lewis had the needle hell, I know that you are healthy. Very easy for me to make grand statements like ‘you’ve been alone too long’ when I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt it isn’t anything else.”
I’d never been this girl. I really wasn’t the kind of person who went around being carried. It felt kind of … decadent.
Still, I wiggled, and he set me down. When my legs proved walk-worthy, I took his hand in mine. He brought it to his lips to kiss my palm. I sighed. We’d only been back together days, and I was already screwing the whole thing up.
Outside in the hallway, Judge leaned against the wall. He grinned when I came out. “Not talking yet?”
Cash looked between us. “No, but apparently I speak Diana Body Language.”
“I bet I can too.” Judge smirked. “Should we compete?”
I rolled my eyes, and they both laughed. I was glad I could be amusing. My tongue still felt thick. I wasn’t ready to speak yet.
Judge took my other hand, and we walked together toward the mess hall. Inside the room, Sterling sat on the counter holding the tablet that would let him control the ship remotely if need be. The system had never been as quick to respond as I’d wanted it to be. I imagined Sterling felt the same way, which was why he usually piloted our vessel from the control room itself. Damian stood over a pot staring down at some red sauce.
Sterling’s eyes met my own, and he grinned before jumping off the counter. He bent over to kiss me lightly on the lips. “Heard you’re having a rough day.”
Cash dropped my hand to walk to the refrigeration unit, and I stroked the side of Sterling’s face. Mostly when I went silent, people left me alone. But the guys seemed to want to talk. I was going to have to figure out more creative ways to manage this, or I was going to have to type all the time.
“We’ll wait.” He kissed my cheek. “It’ll be like my birthday when you speak.”
Damian turned off the stove. On some ships, the more modern ones, food could be rehydrated. Artemis was old; she needed things done the old fashioned way, which meant we had to cook if we wanted to eat. I imagined Damian preferred it.
Sterling stepped out of the way to let Damian come forward. He kissed me straight on the mouth. “Everyone else is being really relaxed about this. I’m not. I doubt that surprises you much. Don’t keep your voice from me too long. I need it to breathe. Okay?”
I noticed he’d left off the “please.” I’d never been able to deny him a “please.” I doubted I’d be able to do it this time if he used the word, and I was grateful for his leaving it off the request. He’d probably done it on purpose. Damian was not unaware of what the “please” did to me.
He kissed the end of my nose. “Dinner is ready.”
They spoke in lively tones during dinner, everyone putting on a pretty good show to make up for the fact that I couldn’t speak at all. Damian talked at length about the hydroponics bay. He’d rebuilt it quite a bit since I’d worked on it. I imagined it was close to the way it had looked when Cooper ran the growing-of-food department.
I grabbed my tablet halfway through the meal. I did have something to tell Damian that I hadn’t thought about.
After I finished typing, I passed it to Cash who sat next to me. He cleared his throat, like he was going to do a dramatic reading of a play. “Damian, guess what?”
Across the table, Damian raised his eyebrows. His gaze found mine, and he winked. “What?”
I took the tablet back. This was almost as good as speaking to them—almost.
This time I handed it to Judge on my other side, who read it aloud. “My uncles saved two of the horses. They lived on the station—which was a first—for a while. Now they’re at the new homestead.”
Damian dropped his fork. “For real?”
I nodded as vigorously as I could manage. His grin made everyone around the table smile. “Thanks for telling me, Diana. That’s the best news, after finding you, ever.”
I guessed I could participate in the dinner conversation, one way or another.
* * *
I’d spent too much time sleeping without concerning myself about the time. It was dangerous in space to lose track of time. The ship could be made to keep the lights at appropriate intervals so body rhythms remained tuned to some semblance of planetary daytime/nighttime hours. The guys must have shut off the function at some point, since I used to have it on. I should have been sleeping, and I was awake.
Next to me, Judge slept soundly, not moving too much. He’d not gotten into his rhythm of his nightly sleep terrors yet. As for me, I was counting shadows on the wall and listening to ship noises. I wasn’t nervous about my medical procedure. If anything, I was anxious to get it done.
My tongue was still thick-feeling—which I knew was all in my head because nothing had changed in my mouth, not medically at least.
“If you’re going to obsess,” Judge rolled over as he spoke. “It better be about something good.”
I should have known he wasn’t asleep. I took his hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing it gently. He sighed.
“The first weeks on this ship, in the black hole, when I wasn’t trying to make sure everything was functioning properly, I would sort through things. This place was a collection of out of date, useless tools coupled with amazing relics and things I couldn’t understand.”
I smiled at his description. Artemis had so many owners, so many pilots, so many residents over the years, including myself. Judge must have run into a lot of bizarre stuff.
“I held off in here. I didn’t want to throw out your stuff. I figured if you kept it, it was important.” He entwined our fingers. “I did go through it eventually. But I didn’t stick any of it out of the airlock.”
I picked up his tablet. Truth is, I don’t have a lot of attachment to anything here. I wasn’t planning to stay here when I got sucked into the black hole. Most of what is in here was collected from around the ship. I kind of existed for a while. I had a home on the space station and with you. That’s it.
He chewed on his bottom lip. “That makes sense. I was looking for something, anything, to feel really connected to you. Maybe I made it up. I needed something, anything. We broke out of Evander, thanks to Sterling, and I had ten minutes of thinking I was getting back to you before we heard you were dead. I needed you, some part of you, somewhere.”
They’d been through so much. You never have to look very hard for that, Judge. I love you. I was going to love you for the rest of my life even if I never saw you again. I put my hand over his heart. It pounded rhythmically against my fingertips. My Judge, who had stood up to Evander and ended up in jail for it before he’d ever met me.
The ship shook violently.
“Aw, what the hell?” Judge jumped out of the bed. He was in only his boxer shorts but didn’t seem to care as he rushed into the hallway. I was fast on his heels. Artemis didn’t shake like that if everything was okay. She was old but sturdy.
Damian tore out of one of the other bedrooms, and soon everyone was in the hallway headed toward the control room. Sterling was on his feet staring at the Xs and Os on the screen. Some of them were planets and stars, but the one moving all around behind us was the ship that been on our tail for the last day.
Sterling shook his head. “We’ve been fired on. Do you suppose I have to continue to take no-fire orders from your family or would his shooting at us warrant me returning fire?”
Sarcasm laced his tone. He hated other people’s plans; he hated not being in charge. But there was—literally—nothing I could say. My voice didn’t work.
He swung around like he expected me to answer him. When I didn’t, Damian spoke. “Her voice isn’t working right now.”
Sterling jolted. Had he forgotten?
“Right, okay. Well, then, I’m doing this. I don’t get fired on. It’s pissing me off; not to mention the son-of-a-bitch might get lucky, and that’s dangerous.”
Over the next few minutes, Sterling maneuvered the ship into fighting position while the rest of us watched. Damian seemed to at least understand the general moves Sterling made. He moved to navigation, and the two of them engaged in a conversation consisting of one word commands and grunts.
I’d been in battles. I had a strong sense of danger. I’d even been thrown through a black hole after shoving my brother out into a pod in the middle of a battle. I’d hid under floorboards, stayed in the control rooms, and listened to battles from the inside of a closet. I’d never seen one conducted so silently before. Where were the shouted instructions? Sterling seemed almost … unconcerned. His face remained passive even as his hands moved faster than I could watch without getting dizzy.
We had someone shooting at us. Near me, Cash, Lewis, and Judge were equally as quiet. This wasn’t commonplace. I knew they had to be worried. Yet we all stayed noiseless. The ship systems were working and so were my husbands. I tried to think of something I could do to help, voiceless. I could maybe reach around Damian and help with navigation, but that was likely to just get in his way. Between the two of them, they seemed to have this under control.
A few moments later, after Sterling banked the ship right and we all had to grip onto something to avoid falling over, the would-be battle was over. Without a sound in the control room to indicate he was done, Sterling had blown up the other ship.
He tapped his fingers twice on the control panel and then turned around to the rest of us. Judge grinned. “I love how you beat people. One-two-three. Done. So glad you’re on my side.”
Damian spun around in his chair to pat Sterling on the arm. Cash and Lewis were both talking. I couldn’t even hear what they said.
For the life of me, all I could see were Sterling’s blue eyes. He’d blown up that ship—and I was glad he had, particularly if the idiot had been firing at us—but he was so matter-of-fact. I don’t know why I’d thought it would be different. Sterling had, more than once, explained to me how perfectly designed he had been to be the perfect soldier. He’d shut a lot of that out, except for protecting his family.
I swallowed. I wasn’t afraid of him, not even a little bit. It was just a big change to actually see him in action. He’d been totally focused and barely seemed bothered by the whole experience. My uncles had at least sweat through their battles.
Sterling must have put the ship on autopilot. He rose and walked toward me. “I’ll blow anyone out of the sky who threatens any of you. Don’t act like you didn’t know that.”
I’d never in my life been so frustrated to not speak. There was so much I would say to Sterling if I could, and I didn’t want to leave it long enough to write a diatribe back to him. Instead, I threw my arms around his neck. He picked me up. He shuddered slightly. With my arms around him, I could feel it. It wouldn’t have been obvious to anyone else, but since I held him, I could tell.
“I think she’s okay with it, brother.” Damian stood. “Why do you suppose he picked now to start trouble? He was on a wait-and-see mission before.”
Lewis shook his head. “Maybe he’d waited enough and decided to see.”
I could actually help with this, voice or no voice. I wiggled until Sterling put me down. The McQueen brothers had made it easy for us to monitor the communications of the Sandler Cartel. It wasn’t something we were supposed to do very often, lest we get caught and lose the ability to do it ever again. Only in moments of desperation, had been the orders, were we allowed access to the comm systems. I sat down at the comm. The same way we’d been able to speak to Ari earlier, we could listen to what the Sandlers said. Artemis was old and had creaky dials, but after a few minutes, I was able to isolate a local communication before it dissipated into nothingness.
I turned up the volume.
“Got it.” I recognized the voice of Caleb Sandler. He was a second cousin of Paloma’s husbands and ran one of the fleets. The McQueen boys had a strong hatred for most of their family.
“Reach back out, Leon. If you’re there. Do you think it’s possible that old junky ship blew him out of the sky? I told you we should have waited.”
Sterling shook his head. “What a stupid fuck. A leader doesn’t berate over an open mic. At least now I know more of what we’re dealing with. I’m going to increase our speed. I want to get to that station.
“I hear you.” I didn’t know the voice on the other end of the comm. “He’s gone. Telemetry has downloaded into ours. I’ll check all of his readings later. You’re still in possession of Ari Bennett, yes? If you have him, you have all the information we need. He’ll sing like a songbird when the drugs hit.”
Judge pointed at the comm. “Do you think they know they’re on an open mic? Why are they talking like this?”
This was really, really bad news. A major hit. I couldn’t deal with my incredible worry about Ari. He was one of the nicest people I’d ever met. What were they going to do to him? Unfortunately, I knew. I’d become well-versed in Sandler torture techniques when we’d undertaken beating them.
No, I shook my head. They couldn’t be allowed to harm Ari. My stomach clenched at the thought.
I had no choice. I grabbed the tablet. Typing was going to have to do. They don’t know they’re on the open. We’ve tapped into their internal stuff. But, all of that aside, we have to go get Ari. He knows everything. If they have him, we’re in big trouble.
Some of the things Sandler did were unthinkable.
“Sweet baby.” Sterling’s eyes had gone cold. “We’ll get him back.”
I turned and walked from the room. Frustration rode me, and I needed to be able to do something about it. Not being able to communicate? It sucked. Ari was taken—and he was one of the ten people who knew the plan that Quinn Sandler had come up with to beat his father. Besides, he was my friend.
I had so few of those.
“Boo.” Cash ran after me, grabbing my arm to stop my tear down the hallway. “You’re awake. I’m awake. Lewis is awake. Let’s get the procedure done. Let Sterling figure out how to find Ari. He’s good at it. We’ll get you under control. No more needles. By the time it’s over, we might have some answers.”
Cash was always so reasonable. My lower lip trembled. I was going to cry. Instead, I sucked in my breath and nodded. He was right. Let’s get the pain over with, and maybe there would be smooth space ahead. Things couldn’t go wrong all the time. They couldn’t.
An hour later, Lewis stood over me. When he and Cash got focused, they really knew how to things get done. He smiled down. “When you wake, it’ll be time for breakfast. Damian is going to make you something light for after the operation.”
The last thing I wanted to do was think about food, and Damian cooked because it soothed his nerves. We were all on edge, and I could take credit for most of it with my not speaking.
“You won’t feel a thing.”
I hoped he was right.
The last thing I saw before the room darkened was Cash coming over, a mask on his face.
* * *
I sat up, my heart pounding and the room too bright.
“Easy there, kiddo.” Dane’s voice reached out to me. “You’ve been asleep for a long time. This is going to feel disorienting. We’re all here.”
I couldn’t see a thing, but I could remember this moment. I’d lived it already. I was remembering waking on Mars Station after I’d come out of the coma. It was one of the worst moments of my life. I must be dreaming, having my procedure. Of all things, why did I have to remember this?
“Baby.” My mother’s voice surrounded me. “How are you feeling? We’ve been so worried about you. But your color is good, and Dane says you are going to be fine.”
I couldn’t stop this. It was going to happen, again, whether I wanted it to or not.
With a lot more effort than it should have taken, I managed to sit up on the table. Sure enough, my entire family was there—Dad, Mom, and my uncles Dane, Cooper, Wes, CJ and Nolan. They all stared at me, various looks on their faces that I was, in my way, prepared to interpret.
My throat hurt to use, but I forced through the pain. “How long?”
“Well, we’ve come through the black hole and gotten home,” my father answered for the group. “On our time line it’s been nearly a year since we left Orion. Ten months, to be precise.”
On our time line? I took a deep breath. I knew what they meant. The way time moved on this side of the galaxy was different than on the other side. My husbands were gone. I’d never see them again.
I took a deep breath. Watching this, I groaned. I wished I could tell the version of myself to shut up, to not say what I’d said next.
“I wish you had left me to die.” I pulled my knees to my chest. “Truth is, I didn’t think you’d solve the infection. I thought you’d fail and then you’d live up to the promise you made me to end this.”
My mother sucked in her breath and rounded on Dane. “You promised to kill her?”
“Oh, don’t act like you’d really be angry with him even if he did.” I swung my feet over that side of the medical bed. “He’ll grovel, and you’ll forgive him and move on. Why didn’t you all let me die? It would have been so damned convenient for you.”
With her hands on her hips, my mother hollered at Dane. “Is this some kind of side effect from the induced coma?”
“I don’t think so.” Dane rocked back on his feet. “Diana, honey …”
My father finally spoke. “This is because she’s been through a huge trauma. She’s just woken up from a coma, and she’s never seeing her husbands again. I remember what it was like to be in a similar situation myself once. In the black hole. When Cooper’s sister blew up the exit.”
Why were they talking over me like I wasn’t even there? I was telling them to let me die, and they were talking about ancient history? How standard. What did it matter that my life was over and they’d doomed me to pain for the rest of existence? I took a deep breath, and then I yelled at the top of my lungs. I yelled for the year that I’d lost. I hollered for the time I had spent in the care of these loving people who had never seemed to understand me. I cried because I adored five men I would miss forever and ever. I screamed until there was nothing else left inside of me.
And when I was done and recovered, I did it again.
And again. And damn it, again. For weeks. I was rude to Paloma. I caused a fight in a shopping center. I threw fruit.
It wasn’t until Ari had made me voice what I never would ever have said out loud because I didn’t speak my mind that I finally stopped yelling.
I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. I was furious with my husbands. How dare they go and get yanked back to Evander? How could they have left me to get bitten by a zombie? They had all promised me just the opposite would happen. And in breaking their oath—whether they had meant to do so or not—they had each become another person in my life who couldn’t be counted on.
The first time Ari had made me admit it aloud—how truly angry I was—I’d thrown something at his head. He’d been fortunate enough to duck. I was, apparently, not the first person he’d helped who hurled something.
I loved my five guys so much, and I was so furious with them, whether it was fair for me to be so or not. They hadn’t failed to keep their promises on purpose. And yet there it was.
Now they were back, and when I woke from whatever drugs were making me relive this in my sleep, nothing would have changed. I loved them completely, and I wanted to yell and scream at them just the same.
So I had quit speaking. Just like with my father and uncles, I’d never known how to reconcile being both loving and pissed off at the same time. Not speaking was perhaps the easy way out.
I watched myself scream in my dream, and exhaustion threatened to bring my subconscious self to my knees. This had gone on way too long. The problem with dreaming—or remembering—was that I never knew when it would come to an end or if, when it did, I would wish I could go back to sleep.