Chapter Seventeen

Not only was Backstabbing Blondie part of my one-sided jury—sitting up there in the middle of the raised platform behind a bank of transparent D-P screens—he had a nosegay or bouquet or some such shit of those bastard forget-me-nots in the lapel of his suit instead of a handkerchief monogrammed with MHF. Major Head Fuck, reverting to the asshole I’d come across in his dickhead daddy’s office.

I was still hocking up my nuts when head honcho the hangman mentioned to Blondie, “We all set, Foreman Rice?”

Foreman Rice. Wasn’t he proving to be a jack-off-of-all-trades?

“Ready to start, if you please, Judge.”

Speaking into an invisible mic, the master of ceremonies, aka the head honcho, announced, “We are online.”

Oh, bliss. My trial was being mainlined via live feed, care of MHF.

Talk about fanfare. The room erupted. I should’ve felt honored, except, of course, the crowd of CO men and women weren’t cheering for me. They were jeering at me.

“HANG THE SODOMITE SOLDIER!”

“Fuck him with his own gun!”

“KILL THE QUEER COMMANDER!”

The room had the kind of acoustics Blondie appreciated, the insults raised in volume and venom. His head dipping briefly to his hands so the sun glanced off the high double-helix piercing, he didn’t appear to love the growing noise so much now.

I thought I was in for a good old-fashioned gangbanging. Masculine and feminine voices mixed alike until the slew of slander slapped against my upright back and slid straight off.

My eyes remained fixed on Blondie.

My fingers relaxed and my breathing steadied.

I am a brick fucking fortress.

A phlegmy chuckle spurted from the head honcho whose name I hadn’t caught, what with the catcalls. “Indeed. We’ll get to that, my fellow officers of the InterNations Council. However, as deemed by the statutes, we must commence with the proceedings. I call for order!”

The wave of silence spread outward, leaving only the near-death buzz in my brain.

Head Honcho began. “On this day, November the twenty-third, year 2070, we convene over the case of Commander Caspar Cannon of the Elite Tactical Unit, Alpha Territory. By the bylaws of the Company, which governs from the Sixteen Founding Territories of the InterNations, it is stated that sexuality of immoral description shall not be abided. As such, the accused will be allowed the opportunity for reparation and rehabilitation as afforded by the approved methods of the Repopulation and Civil Enforcement Program.”

He halted for a breath and peered out over the gathered gung-ho officers. “Our work in the trial of Commander Cannon is facilitated by his confession, which was signed by an authorized proxy on his behalf.”

Nothing said fair like a CO paper pusher simply signing your life away on your own behalf.

For a sickening moment, I wondered if they’d done a fix up on my confession, managed to play my words against Blondie.

Turning to Blondie, he said, “Feed link twelve.”

Oh, they’d worked it over, all right, that declaration I’d omitted to reveal during Blondie’s welfare visit to my cell. The recording was edited to wash away entire sections where I was fighting for words after the watery confinement. My voice ranging across the room sounded as sure as I felt. “Rice hates me. He fought me, and I forced myself on him, raping him repeatedly. Company bitch is what he is. He deserved every ass-pounding I gave him. And I reveled in his screams.”

Relieved my part went off without a hitch, I aimed a pleasant smile at Head Honcho and his fellow fuckwits, keeping my eyes off Blondie, who’d gone ash white.

While the crowd craned forward in their chairs, Head Honcho began his recitation. “The charges against Commander Cannon stand as thus.”

I focused on the visuals. The giant D-P’s showed scenes of me in combat, comforting families of victims, up-to-my-eyeballs covered in muck, with guns slung across my chest and a Corpswoman over my shoulder running for safety. Every single image screamed of the once-honorable soldier now utterly debased. Every byline underlined the CO message that anyone was culpable of illegal behavior if upstanding Commander Cannon was.

Good soldier gone bad.

I’d provided them with the opportunity to fine-tune their antihomo message. I’d given them the ammo to breed more hate, inject more suspicion, to boost the remaining civilians who had sworn their allegiance to the Company and against acceptance.

Rage spiked inside of me while I watched my own personal video and listened to the charges.

“Accused of uncondoned oral copulation.”

My head fell back with a laugh. “Uncondoned oral copulation? Shit, it was straight-up forced blow jobs, a lot of ’em. No need to mince words, right, Blondie?” I winked at him just before the butt end of a sidearm whipped across my cheek, ending my hilarity.

Blondie put me in this coffin, and I’d make sure it was nailed shut. Backhanding the blood from my mouth, I sent him a gruesome grin. The pistol-happy guard snapped a second blow to the back of my skull. I reeled, my chains clanked, and the crowd cheered it all on because a good show was a good show.

“That’s for your insolence, slut.”

I let the rest get recorded in whatever verbiage they wanted, certain my mission was complete.

Rape.

Sodomy.

Wanton corruption of a Company officer. Always a crowd pleaser.

Homosexual acts of depraved measures—that is, making love.

Theft. That fucking ring was mine.

Assault on numerous accounts. Bonus points.

Per the CO policies, there wouldn’t be a defense. This was merely a promotional event of this highest order. Only the verdict remained.

Clear-cut, right down the line. Each representative’s ruling rang clear. “Guilty. Guilty. Guilty…”

Times fourteen, until it was Blondie’s turn.

Waiting for his say, my blunt nails dug into my palms. I willed him not to do anything stupid because I’d put a lot of work into my setup for his own good, and I hated leaving shit undone.

To my relief, he added his opinion in a low voice. “Guilty.”

With Head Honcho’s vote, I was branded a homosexual deviant thief with a tendency to battery and causing bodily harm…who liked blow jobs. I had to hand it to them. They made short work of this short rope. My trial had ranged through confession, charges, guilty, going down in less than twenty minutes.

Needless to say, I was shocked when the judge asked if I had anything to declare for myself. Maybe he was expecting me to cower or beg, which was so not my style.

“Sure, why the hell not?” I’d go out swinging, give them something they couldn’t spin before it went out live to the masses.

The bloodthirsty mob was just like the one at Alejandro’s hanging. Barely staying in their seats, they raised their fists, snarling taunts. I spoke low, going unheard at first, but as my voice grew in volume, theirs fell away, replaced by narrowed stares stabbing all over my body.

I dug deep, determined to speak for everyone who’d been silenced. For the Freelanders. For Alejandro. For my sister. For Blondie, if he still had the ears to hear it. For me. “I’ve got something to say, all right. In defense of homosexuals. In defense of freedom!”

I jerked my chin toward a young woman polished and pressed until her personality had disappeared. “You ever thought about having sex with someone because it was your choice instead of an ordained match?”

Eyes wide, lips thin, she shook her head.

“You there.” I looked at a middle-aged man whose face appeared chipped from the same granite as the garrison. “You remember your Proving Ceremony? What about the young woman brought to you? Did she get off on it? Being watched by your elders and the executives so you could show just how dedicated you were to the Company cause?”

His hands curled over the arms of his chair, nostrils flaring.

“Was she excited to be on public display? Did she come?” Given enough lead to shake off my armed guards, I bent down in his face, which was beginning to show fissures. “Or was she scared, ashamed, and so fucking alone?”

He warned, “Back off, now.”

I stepped away, into the arms of my security detail. “The decades of upholding rules that discriminate against one faction of our society while championing another, hasn’t that affected anyone here?” Nodding toward Blondie, the man broadcasting this abomination, I repeated, “Not a goddamn one of you?

“This regime, these decrees for what? To recoup the world’s population? That’s bullshit!” I stomped my foot, a futile physical outlet. “I’ve been to a commune. I’ve spent time with the Freelanders. Nomads, you call them? They aren’t the savages the Company’s banged on about. Not animals whose only goal is to kill and screw. They are Freelanders because they live in freedom. They love at their own will, and they are thriving; their children are plentiful and healthy.

“You have a chance to change this world! You just gonna sit there and wait for the shitstorm to destroy the Company and you with it?”

In the ensuing silence, no one moved to join me.

Surprise.

“You’re just cogs in the Company machine, pieces of InterNations inner workings. They bred you to maintain their rule.” I tried to pull my hands forward, the interlocking chains holding me back. “Where the fuck are your balls?”

I turned to Blondie with his flushed cheeks and drawn lips, a feverish light to his eyes. “I can goddamn guarantee you the Revolutionaries joined by the Freelanders are going to win this war. They have courage.” I wanted to pound my chest, pound their heads together. “Passion! They have honor. Theirs is the righteous fight.”

My balls jumped when a few eyes rose to mine, and the mouths on a handful of onlookers worked as if they had something to say.

In the upper reaches of the balcony, a woman shot to her feet, shouting, “He speaks the truth!”

It was goddamn spiritual, until Head Honcho leaped up, smacking his fist to the table. “Enough! Silence!”

What is he gonna do if I don’t shut up? Kill me? My death warrant is already signed.

That small show of support put a hot coal under his ass. Enraged, the veins in his face lit up in a florid network. “This traitor is not a RACE rehabilitation option.”

“Got that right. I’d rather fuck a goat than be told who to do.” As if I’d ever have sex with a woman. Dumbfucks. My chin shot up higher. Courage, bravery, honor. That was how I was gonna die.

After treason was added to my rap sheet, Blondie spoke up, keeping his eyes on a spot behind my back. “Petition for immediate execution of Commander Cannon, Judge.”

I swallowed my heart right then. I must’ve kept breathing. At least I didn’t pass out from lack of oxygen, even though it felt like I was in an airless chamber.

“I see no harm in this. We have plenty of footage. All of which will prove useful in dispelling future atrocities of this nature.”

I swallowed again, kept up that breathing thing. No harm at all, only to my person, my heart.

“Permission granted.”

From out of nowhere came the image of Nathaniel below me, the tears in his eyes the first time we made love, his gasps and soft mewls.

I love you, Caspar! You cocky motherfucker.

Maybe I had fallen, hit my head or something, because the next thing I heard wasn’t Blondie proclaiming his love but his smooth drawl asking, “Request special dispensation to carry out the sentence myself.”

Surely my heart would quit now, spare me the details of all this twisted bullshit.

Amid the dissent drowning my ears, Blondie’s voice rose. “Commander Cannon is Elite OPS. I know his MO and his weaknesses.”

Got that right.

More opposition found him standing, his sultry accent replaced by cold, clipped words. “It is my right to kill him! He ruined my reputation. He raped me. If you disagree, I will go straight to CEO Cutler for permission. I want to put the bullet in his brain.” His brow peaked, he demanded, “You dare deny me this?”

“Order! Order!” Head Honcho intervened. “Have you all forgotten we’re waging a war against the likes of Commander Cannon? Let us rid ourselves of one more carrier of this plague in our midst. Permission granted, Nathaniel.” Clapping him on the back, he ordered, “Take him to the woods. Shoot him clean. Bring back his body. You can air the evidence tonight.”

At Blondie’s nod, Head Honcho’s head lowered in his direction. “Well done for bringing him in and tying up the loose ends. I’ll report to your father immediately. He’ll be so proud.”

“Thank you, sir.”

My spine was rigid as an iron bar, my heart destroyed, and all the loving memories of Blondie were finally erased from my head.

Good, let the Company executive execute me.

*  *  *

Escorted outside, I marched. Left, right, left, right, left. This day in the life was gonna end with me dead.

My cadence was matched by the three men riding my ass. Blondie plus the muscle backing him up because a prisoner of my magnitude couldn’t be trusted. The guards were surplus to requirements. I knew Blondie could cold-bloodedly cut a throat just as easily as he’d become a turncoat.

No words passed between him and me, only the puffs of our cold breaths commingled. Me in shirtsleeves—stripped of my military honors. He swathed in an overcoat that brushed his calves as he strode.

Beyond the perimeter of the compound and through the gate, the sun washed over my face and the wind bit my skin. Shutting my eyes, I smelled the air. Untouched, the scent of forest filled my lungs. A branch heavy with snow creaked overhead, a plop of slush hitting my shoulder.

Into the woods where no path had been trod, our boots punched through the crust of old stuff underneath. My head was high, shoulders back, muscles stiff against the drag of the metal cuffs as we headed forest-deep, where feathery dark greens were topped by pristine white drifts.

Tension rolled off Blondie, reaching toward me, putting a stumble in my step for a second. I was glad the man I loved would survive. I was tired of living with this hate inside of me. I chanced a look behind me. His jaw was locked in place, his mouth firm, his eyes clapped on my face.

Stopping in a near-perfect circle broken only by scant animal prints and one lone tree soldiering on its own, his overcoat passed to one of the guards, he lowered me to my knees.

The snow melted fast beneath my legs, slush seeping through my pants.

I twined my hands together, giving one last rub to my naked finger.

In my periphery, the two guards unholstered their sidearms, their bodies blocking any escape.

Before me, the bare branches of the single tree danced in a swift breeze, the same way I listed sideways for a moment.

I wouldn’t spend my last moments angry. I’d wasted too much time.

My head bowed, I thought about Liz.

I was glad I’d be with Erica soon, unless the CO controlled heaven and hell too.

Tasting a drop of salt in the corner of my mouth, I held in a smile, grateful Leon had made it…with my bike.

Alejandro came to mind. My hot-tempered lover with his passion for life, his truth in death.

The tears rained faster when I thought about Blondie, the man standing right behind me. It was a goddamn good thing I was gonna die because I would never be able to live through the agony of his actions.

Forty seconds or so of that sniffling was more than enough. Wiping my face against my shoulder since my hands were still fucking bound, I cleared my throat. “I’m ready.”

His voice was ghostly as a thin cloud racing across a midnight sky. “Last words?”

Oh yeah, I had a lot of those. Starting with Fuck and ending with You. But I wasn’t doing that. I squared my shoulders and opted for a different FU. “I forgive you.”

He was so silent, I wondered if he was just gonna plug me with no warning. Shooting my head around, I had to look at the man one last time. My gaze landed on his lapel overflowing with the nodding flowers he’d first given me and then his eyes, so glittery blue they put those frigging blooms to shame. “Forget me not, Nathaniel.”

I turned my eyes to the tree ahead.

The brush of metal from leather sounded, his weapon readied.

A loud click as his gun was cocked.

Its discharge deafened me, two blasts in quick succession.

Blondie. Nathaniel! LizEricaLeonAlejandro. Blondie!

I was slammed into the ground.

Heavy breaths sped against my neck.

A broad chest covered my back.

Blondie.

“You stupid fuck. Caspar!”

Not a bullet. Blondie. Tackling me to the ground inside the cage of his arms.

Turning me over.

Touching me everywhere.

There was wet warmth between my shoulder blades, but it wasn’t blood. It was his tears, the ones coursing down his face and in between his lips.

The only blood spilled was on both sides of the clearing, not mine. Red rivers melted snow, forming puddles. The guards were flat-out with neat bullet holes in their foreheads.

I hunched over and croaked, “Nice shooting.” He’d shot his own people, Company people, and covered me with his body in case he’d missed his mark.

“How could you believe it?” Undoing the handcuffs, rubbing my wrists until circulation pierced my fingertips, he was shouting. “How the fuck could you believe I’d kill you? You idiot!”

I grabbed his face and hauled him on top of me. I brought his mouth to mine between gasps. Our tongues swooped inside and out, tasting, feasting.

I went at his throat, nipping, biting, hungry, greedy. Alive.

Relief, disbelief, and rage all fought for airtime within me. I didn’t know where to start first.

“Brought it down to the wire, didn’t you?” I shoved him off me.

I’d vowed not to hurt him. Fuck that. This time I was gonna put a world of hurt on him. An entire goddamn universe.

“You didn’t leave me with a whole lotta options.” His voice was low and rough.

“I thought you meant it.”

He walked toward me. The sun reflected off the snow, working through his hair and soft stubble, his beautiful lips, setting off the sorrow in his eyes.

“You believed I’d kill you?”

“Sure.”

“Sweet Jesus, Caspar.” He leaned down with his cheek against mine and his mouth near my ear, the sad truth coming out in a pained whisper. “You could believe all those lies but not the truth?”

I made full-body contact with Blondie, folding my arms around him. It felt so good, so right. I wanted to give in to the love flooding me, but I couldn’t. “The truth?”

“I love you so much it hurts, Caspar. Knowin’ you were beaten…” He sucked in a breath, impaling me with his blues awash with all the emotion he’d hidden from Company eyes. “That they convinced you I was playin’ you. I don’t ever wanna know. I don’t think I can take it, honey. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I tried to get you out sooner.”

“I convinced myself of it all.” I felt only deeper sadness for all the words we were saying.

“Why?”

“I don’t think I deserve love.” I let him hold me, my face in the nook of his neck. “I don’t deserve your love.”

He exhaled on a curse but wouldn’t let me go. “Well, you got it. You got all of me.”

My throat grew tight.

His lips left damp marks over my face. “I love you.”

I burrowed into him, willing my heart to stop its pounding, trying to break free of imprisonment.

My head playing catch up with this great big mess, I disengaged from his arms. The warmth of his body replaced by the cold liquid of distrust, which was always so much easier to go with. “You love me so much, the only way you could get me off was by letting me sit in my own shit without a stitch of clothing while I was drowned, starved, and browbeaten by images of—” I gulped down the choking sensation of jealousy, which was fresh as the water that had damn near killed me.

“Images of what?”

I shook my head.

“Goddamn you, Caspar!” His voice broke, and he opened his eyes wide to the sky, blinking, blinking, blinking. Balling his fists, he poured his words over me. “Everything you told me about Alejandro was in here.” He pointed at his temple. “His sacrifice for you. Just like him, I knew there was no way in hell you’d go through with rehabilitation. I knew you’d be an unrepentant, stubborn sumbitch, and if I could just get you out here, I could save your life.”

The corner of his lips twitched up and he wiped the tears from his eyes. The cuff of his shirtsleeve slipping, I caught a glimpse of suede at his wrist.

My heart flew around some more. Frigging thing must’ve grown wings in there.

“I cut the live feed as soon as the trial started.”

“You did?”

“’Course I did, big man.”

I inhaled sharply. Last time I’d heard those words, Kale had been taunting me.

“What?” he asked.

I wouldn’t let Kale corrupt my feelings. I was too good at that myself.

“Hooked it back up when you gave your speech, though.” The other side of his lips perked up.

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah! That was a call to arms, Caspar. Do you have any idea what you did?” Energy pinged off him as he paced a wide circle, punching his fist to the air. “You gave purpose to our cause. Shit, you’re the badass darlin’ of the Revolution.” His approach tentative, he came close enough to touch my shoulder and no farther. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

I took a step back.

He stalked forward. “Aw, hell, Caspar. You’re willin’ to let it all go? What we had, what we could have?”

“What you did, that was a helluva gamble.”

“You think I was screwin’ around in there this whole time? I was goin’ insane while you were down in the dungeons. Everyone was breathin’ down my neck. My father, the executives, hell, even the guards were keepin’ tabs on me. I’d just been plannin’ to blow the Brier sky high. That shit all went haywire as soon as you were hauled in. I had to figure out how to get you off, honey, and the whole time, I couldn’t get you outta my head.”

Pulling my hands from under my armpits, he slammed them against his chest. “This was dead! Don’t you get it?”

Softly, he touched my chin, cupping my jaw. “I don’t want this life without you.” His lips brushed over mine. “I can’t let you go.”

I returned his kiss, relearning the plump contours of his mouth. I touched the bow of his lips, the corners, caressing all that sweet skin with my tongue before drawing away.

“I want to believe you.”

He nodded.

“Not sure I can take the risk.”

The corner of his jaw pulsed. “I’m not a risk.”

I waved him away. “The worst torture was thinking you’d planned this all along.”

“Caspar, don’t do this.”

Plowing ahead, I voiced all the fears that had eaten away my happy-ending dreams, leaving me with a head full of nightmares. “You always seemed so guilty.”

“Goddamn you. I couldn’t tell you about my father. I didn’t know how you’d react to the Freelanders until I got you to the commune.” He growled, “Only thing I’m guilty of is lovin’ you, tryin’ to protect you.”

“Did you know Kale was gonna be here?”

“No.”

“Did you know this was gonna happen?”

“No way. But I had to think ahead. Why do you think I wanted you far away from this place? I’ve been stewed in the Company’s ways for so long. It’s true. I did have plans—”

My laugh was spiteful. “Always the man with the plan. Did you plan to tell Kale about Alejandro, or was that just a slipup?”

“I never spoke to him about Alejandro. I never spoke to him at all. He must’ve overheard me talking to—”

“Lemme guess,” I cut in. “You were having a nice little chitchat about your banged-up ex-lover with your new-old flame, Farrow.”

“You know? What did they say to you?”

“Guilty now, aren’t you?”

His cheeks turned red. “It’s not like that.”

“I saw the pictures.”

“She’s here to help us.”

“From what I saw, she helped herself to you.” I stood above him as he bent over, gripping his knees, his breath chugging out of his chest in short, sharp shots.

“Sitting on my jury? Prancing me out here with a weapon in your hand? How do you think I felt about that?”

“That’s why I wore the flowers,” he groaned. “To signal you.”

“I thought you were just tormenting me.”

He was on his knees before me. “I don’t know why I bothered.” His chuckle was a short-lived burst. “What do you want from me?”

On his knees, just as I’d been, with his Glock to my head.

On his knees, beseeching me to believe him.

What the fuck am I doing?

I didn’t ever want Blondie in that position. He’d taken out two of his own people for me—nothing said love like that—and this was how I repaid the man? When was I gonna fight for what I wanted?

“Get up.” I hauled him to his feet. When he swayed, I caught him in my arms. Turning my lips to his ear, I blew his hair aside. “I do.”

“What?” He trembled in my touch.

“I know now.” I pulled his face to mine. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.”

“Caspar?”

Tenderly roaming down his back, my hands slid to his ass, and I couldn’t resist pulling him against me.

He gasped. “Caspar?”

“You saved my life because you fucking love me.” Nipping his earlobe, his chin, his bottom lip, I said against his mouth, “And I love you.”

A mountain of emotion grew between us, too great to withstand. We went down into the snow, rocking together. We kissed like it was our first time. Slips of tongues and sips from mouths, sighs becoming moans.

There was no more knocking in my chest. My heart was soaring free.

No more beating in my head. I’d finally figured my crap out.

Sneaking down to suck on his throat, I whispered, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Sshh. You went through hell because of me.”

“Thanks for getting me out of there, even if you took a roundabout route doing it.”

“Okay, now you’re pushin’ it.” His eyes were bright, his cheeks pink, his lips swollen from mine. “You decided I’m worth the risk?”

“You’re not a risk.” I dipped close. “You’re mine.”

With suspicion, my death sentence, and all that other shit out of the way, I was of the same mind as my cock, especially when Blondie reclined to his elbows—in the fucking snow—inviting me on top of his body for a fierce, forgiving kiss.

Just a romantic interlude, with two dead bodies on ice.

I was getting ready to break it up when he gave a long whimper interrupted by the very near sound of a low laugh.

“Well, well, well, quite the pair of lovebirds, aren’t ya?”