Gabrielle was a masochist. That much was clear. But there was so much more to her, and as Alexia listened to the chatter between CEO and communications director, she understood why everyone loved her. TJ surely did, at least in his own way. Rick had practically gushed about her. And Zeke Angelus—a criminal—had reportedly fallen for her too.
And Alexia wasn’t far behind. The woman was so painfully unselfish, so freakishly willing to serve, she elicited both good and evil from the people she met. Alexia wanted to protect her. But she also wanted to exploit the hell out of her. Wanted to value her—put her on a pedestal—yet also use her for her own self-serving purposes. In that sense, she was like every other person, male or female, who had come into contact with “Gabby”.
Daunted, she listened as TJ explained the situation: TJ and Alexia were in love. They wanted to get married. They wanted to get married today at two o’clock. They didn’t want to show disrespect to Jamie’s memory, so they wanted it to be private. But they also wanted it to be visually arresting. Because they intended to record it for posterity.
“Two o’clock?” Gabrielle’s teal-green eyes clouded. “That means we’re limited on the flowers we can get.”
Alexia wanted to assure her flowers were the least of their problems, but instead she said helpfully, “There were white roses at Jamie’s party yesterday.”
“Poor Jamie. She was the nicest person this side of the sinkhole. But at least the memorial was beautiful, right? Everyone’s still buzzing about it, Alexia. They love you for giving them hope. You’re an inspiration to all of us.”
“Right.” Alexia exhaled sharply. “So what about the flowers?” Before Gabrielle could answer, she asked carefully, “Shouldn’t you be making a list?”
If her maid of honor had simply agreed, that would have been fine. But instead, she quirked a no-nonsense eyebrow and exclaimed, “We have so much to do! Two o’clock just isn’t enough time.” Turning to TJ, she insisted, “Give me a few days and it’ll be perfect.”
“Two o’clock. That’s what Dad wants. And so do I.”
“Oh…” Gabrielle nodded. “I heard he was here. That’s weird, right? Two visits within four months of each other? But he couldn’t miss the wedding, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” Alexia interjected. “David doesn’t want to stick around any longer than necessary. So we need to stay on schedule. Flowers. Wedding dress. An excellent vid photographer.”
The blonde smiled. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue? I’m on it, Alexia. But it’s all in the details, right? So let’s move to my office and we can start making those lists.”
Gabrielle’s office had a huge window overlooking the platform but was otherwise impersonal and efficient. No photos on the desk or walls, just credentials in black frames. TJ took the seat closest to the door, as though already planning his escape, while Alexia chose a hard-backed chair directly across from the communications director.
“I’m a fan of traditional gowns,” Gabrielle began. “Is that what you want, Alexia?”
“Can we find one up here?”
The blonde grinned. “Haven’t you seen the bio-girls’ costume racks? You can have anything you want. Formal, casual, skanky. Roman toga, belly dancer, Egyptian princess. They’ve got it all.”
TJ seemed annoyed. “You’re saying they have actual wedding dresses? I’m not sure I approve. We don’t want to set up unreasonable expectations.”
Gabrielle giggled. “Didn’t that ship sail with the Egyptian princess outfit?” Sobering, she murmured, “No one expects to have a real wedding up here. You’ve always made that clear, and we all understood. But we understand this exception too. Because you and Alexia? That’s fate, right?”
“Yes. It’s fate.”
Alexia’s heart ached more than her eye as she watched Gabrielle cater to TJ. What had he been thinking when he dumped this gorgeous mess?
The masochist continued to prove her worth by pulling up a list on her computer monitor. “Six types of flowers are currently available in the platform greenhouse. Dozens more can be transited from E-side within twenty-four hours, but since we’re talking two o’clock, you’re stuck with the local stuff. Which means white roses, violets, daffodils and three shades of chrysanthemums. Whatever you choose, I’d like to coordinate your nail color and jewelry with it, so we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
TJ’s eyes glazed over. “Is this going to take long? I need to make some calls.”
“We’ll be done in a jiffy,” Gabrielle promised, opening two additional soft screens to float alongside the computer’s built-in. “It’s ten-thirty now. If we make our decisions by eleven, I can do the rest.”
“How many decisions are there?” he groaned.
“How often does a man get married?” Gabby sniffed. “You can make calls from that cubicle over there if it’s an emergency, but don’t go too far. We’ll need to consult with you, right, Alexia?”
Alexia’s pulse quickened. She might just be imagining it, but it seemed like her new friend was trying to get rid of TJ. It wasn’t definite, but still, she wanted to help so she gave him a sour wince. “You’re not going to stick me with all these decisions, are you?”
He seemed cowed. Almost guilty. “I’ll be right over there. Less than ten feet away. Just handle the basics on your own, and if you need me, just holler.”
Once TJ was out of earshot, Gabrielle’s entire attitude shifted and she whispered, “What really happened to your eye? Did TJ do it? I’m dying, Alexia. He’s usually so gentle.”
“He didn’t hit me,” Alexia murmured.
“Well, someone did. Was it his father? Or one of his goons? Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s a mess,” she admitted. “David is basically forcing me to marry TJ. And TJ’s going along with it.”
“How can they force you?” Gabby asked, frowning. “I mean, they can pressure you, obviously. And charge you with trespass. Maybe even espionage. And they can convict you too. The hearings always go David’s way. There’s a reason he calls himself the executioner,” she added dryly, “but the most he’s ever done is incarcerate a few guys, and just for a month or two.” She flashed a reassuring smile. “And in your case, I doubt the Earth authorities would allow even that much. A Montoya? They’d make him send you home for another, fairer trial.”
“That would be fine,” Alexia murmured. “Except David assures me I’d die in the sinkhole.”
“What?” Gabby covered for her gaffe by pretending to be offended, saying loudly, “There has to be a wedding ring. Honestly, TJ. What are you thinking?”
He shrugged from a distance. “She can have my college ring for now. We’ll come up with something better later.”
Gabby seemed about to argue, then just said, “As long as Alexia agrees, I guess.”
TJ arched an eyebrow in Alexia’s direction, and she dutifully murmured, “You were wearing that ring the day we first met. When you came to the house for dinner. It’s perfect.”
“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Gabby said with a sigh.
As soon as TJ turned his attention back to his pulse screen, Alexia lowered her voice. “David threatened to kill me for sure. And he could probably arrange it, right? Maybe plant an explosive device in my transit capsule?”
“It would be even easier than that,” Gabby admitted. “He could fake your transit completely. We control the records for both platforms. So he wouldn’t need to send a capsule through. Just get rid of your body and falsify the records.” She shuddered. “If they’ve done it before, they didn’t involve me, I swear. I’d do almost anything for TJ, but not that. And he’d never ask me to.” She shook her head. “He’s so different when David is here, but still…”
“Do you think he’d do the right thing if I challenged David?”
“Don’t do that. We’ll figure something else out. I promise.”
Alexia nodded, encouraged by the steely look on the formerly docile face. “David would love to kill me, but he has stars in his eyes at the prospect of a grandson, especially one with Montoya brains. And TJ promised we’d produce one. So I guess you could say TJ saved me for the moment. But unless I’m willing to give them my first-born child, I need to get off this platform before two o’clock. And to do that…” She exhaled sharply. “I need to get a message to Zeke Angelus. Is it true you’re involved with him?”
Gabrielle’s eyes widened. “Who told you that?”
“Rick Gage.”
“Does TJ know?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Whew.” Gabby raised her voice, calling out, “TJ? How about pink carnations and blue violets?”
“Sounds good,” he called back, audibly bored.
“Do you want Alexia to wear her hair up? Or loose?”
“I don’t care,” he growled. “Just do what you want.”
Gabby beamed at him, then lowered her voice again. “I can get a message to Zeke. I just wish we didn’t need to deceive TJ. He deserves better.”
“Except he’s so different these days,” Alexia said sadly. “So cold. And I made it worse, trust me. I had a brief, one-night affair with Rick, and when he found out about it, it drove him over the edge. Didn’t you notice the look in his eyes?”
“He’s different when his father’s on this side of the sinkhole,” Gabby explained. “That’s why we broke up, you know. He couldn’t stand up to David. Wouldn’t defend me or even try.”
“I figured it was something like that.”
Gabby’s eyes shone with sympathy. “He wants David’s approval so bad. Can you imagine how cruel his childhood must have been?”
When Alexia arched an eyebrow, the sympathetic blonde nodded. “You’re right, this is extreme, even for him. I’m just saying it’s not his fault. His father drove him to it. And he’s been in love with you for years. So the idea of marrying you must be fueling this too.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it was never about love. Maybe he’s not even capable of those feelings. Because of David,” she added hastily. “I agree with you about that. I don’t blame TJ, but I can’t forgive him for this. You’re more forgiving than I am. The way he treated you…”
“He never lied to me about marriage. But we had a good relationship. Except when David was around.” The blonde grimaced. “Always calling me ‘the bimbo’. Or worse, bio bimbo. And of course, whore, bitch, airhead, et cetera.”
“I’m so sorry, Gabby,” Alexia told her, reaching for her hand.
The blonde gave a conspiratorial smile. “Now I can get back at him.”
“I hate involving you and Captain Angelus,” she mused. Then she licked her lips, a new idea forming. “You said you heard about the memorial party. It was kind of remarkable, really. Everyone rallied. Like a groundswell of support. Fists pumping in the air, chanting—the works. Don’t you suppose, if I just ran out in the middle of the platform and screamed that I was being kidnapped—”
“Don’t do that,” Gabby interrupted her, a hint of panic in her whisper. “They’d want to help. But they’re all prisoners too, can’t you see that?”
“What?”
“David owns them. Not just financially, although he controls them with threats of pulling their bonuses, even their base pay. But worse than that, Sea-Mont controls the sinkhole. They literally cannot get home without David’s help.” Her teal eyes misted as she repeated, “They’d want to help, but they can’t.”
Alexia stared in dismay. “I never thought of it like that.”
“That’s why you need Zeke. He comes and goes as he pleases. Makes a living thwarting Sea-Mont, not beholden to it.” Drawing a deep breath, the blonde laughed loudly and pointed to the nearest soft screen. “On to my favorite subject—shoes! White, tan, pink? What size do you wear? And meanwhile…” She rolled her chair so that her back was to TJ, then she reached under her sweater and pulled out a chain with a glassy red bauble hanging from it. “Zeke gave me this signaling device. It’s how I get in touch with him. Watch.” She squeezed the jewel and it flashed once, then went dormant. “If he’s within range, he’ll be here. Really quickly.”
“Sounds like true love.”
“Hardly. This signal means I’m available for sex, and trust me, he’s voracious.” She laughed lightly. “But he’s a sweetheart, so don’t worry. He’ll take good care of you.”
Alexia smiled in relief. “I’m so grateful. To both of you.”
“You should have heard him brag about smuggling you in. It was such an honor that you chose his crew for that. He’s not going to let anyone hurt you. Or at least, not again.” She let out a sigh, then raised her voice, exclaiming, “You can’t wear a blue dress, Alexia! Not with violets. TJ? Help me out here.”
TJ rolled his chair a few feet toward them, just enough to say, “Listen to Gabby. She always looks great.”
“And I don’t?” Alexia muttered. “Luckily, we’re done for the moment. But we’ll need to re-group at Gabby’s place in an hour or so. That’ll give her time to make the arrangements. And while she’s doing that, I can pop a pain pill and get some rest. Okay?”
“Works for me,” TJ agreed, jumping to his feet before they could change their minds. “Except Gabby can bring the dress to my place. Or should I say, our place?”
Gabby interrupted, her tone brisk. “I’ll be dragging armloads of dresses and zillions of shoes from the costume room. Won’t the guard get impatient?” Before he could answer, she went on, her manner increasingly harried. “And I’ll need to highlight my hair while I’m doing everything else. Can’t I just use my apartment as the staging area? I can set up a manicure station for both of us, and do Alexia’s hair while you taste some cake samples. And I need to choose my dress too. And—”
“Okay, okay. We’ll do it at your place. At twelve-thirty sharp. You’re such a trouper,” he added admiringly. “What would I do without you?”
Alexia grinned, imagining how annoyed she’d be under other circumstances. Instead, she willingly joined the admiration, asking Gabby with a wistful smile, “Are you sure you can pull this off in time? I want everything perfect for the holovid. For personal reasons. But I feel bad imposing on you this way.”
“Just get some rest. Put a freez-pak on that broken cheek. And leave the rest to me. I’m just so honored you’re including me.” She hugged Alexia effusively, whispering, “Zeke will know what to do. And if he doesn’t show, we’ll figure something else out. I promise.”
Plotting with Gabby had almost been fun, and had definitely given Alexia hope. But the sight of Belker in the hallway reminded her this wasn’t a game. The man reeked of barely repressed rage and lust, and far from being an outcast for it, he carried laser pistols and could arrest folks at will.
Lana and Jamie had told stories about this particular ex-mercenary, noting that he had pronounced them too “tame and vanilla” for his tastes, thank God. Not that TJ would have required them to spend time with a known sadist. There were a couple of “specialists” among the bio-girls who claimed to enjoy a certain amount of rough stuff, as long as it didn’t get too rough, and as long as safe words were strictly enforced. Even then, TJ’s rules required that any “unorthodox” sessions be video-recorded, supposedly for the sake of the male patron as well as the bio-girl. But in the case of Belker and his two swaggering buddies, Red and Sampson, everyone knew the system only functioned because of TJ’s threat that he would convict the enforcers of mayhem—or worse—and permanently deport them, complete with criminal records that would make them pariahs on Earth, if they ever crossed a bio-girl’s line.
And now here was Belker, his shark eyes peering from his flat, leathery face as he rode the elevator with Alexia and TJ toward TJ’s penthouse. The Sea-Mont CEO didn’t seem to mind the enforcer’s attitude. Maybe he even welcomed it, knowing it would keep his blushing bride in line. Unnerved, she grabbed her mesh bag as soon as they entered the residence, then rushed to the living room, where she dug out the bottle of pain pills.
A plan was forming in her mind. She would use another freez-pak for the pain throbbing through her entire face, but would also break off a piece of a pain pill for herself to determine how strong the dosage was. If Zeke Angelus didn’t show up, she might need to drug TJ, wait for him to doze off, then clobber Belker with the fireplace poker. Then she’d grab his pistol and run for her life, hoping against hope that somewhere on this big, friendly platform, someone would have the guts to assist her. Or if not, she’d take David Seaton hostage and demand he call Rick back from Sector Fourteen.
And then what? It would take days for the wrangler to return. She’d have to sleep sometime, and then she’d be overpowered, brutalized and blown up in the sinkhole.
Captain Angelus will show up, she promised herself nervously as she swallowed the quarter pill. He’s nuts about Gabby. He breaks rules for breakfast. And he’s fearless.
Rick was fearless too, but the idea of involving him had a huge downside. He had lost so many people in his life, and clearly felt guilty about it. If Alexia sent for him, and he didn’t get back in time, or wasn’t able to orchestrate her rescue once he got here?
It would destroy him once and for all.
Depressed, she sat on the sofa and activated the photo array, locating the huge picture of her parents with a tow-headed three-year-old. They looked so happy, and why not? They were in love, they had a wonderful little boy and they were on Earth. Together.
“You should turn that off and get some sleep,” TJ told her in a brusque voice.
She stared at him, brokenhearted, and blurted out, “I don’t want to name our son David.”
“I agree. We’ll call him Trent, just like we discussed.”
“Really?” She brushed a tear from her eye, grateful for the small crumb of decency, yet angry at herself for feeling gratitude toward her captor. “Thanks, TJ.”
He reached down and pulled her to her feet, then looked into her face. “Your eyes are glassy. Should I call Meg?”
“I took a pain pill, and I guess it made me dopey.”
“That was smart,” he said, nodding. “Take another one right before the ceremony so you don’t—well, panic or do something stupid.”
She glanced past him to see Belker watching from the kitchen with amused interest. “Can’t we get some privacy?”
TJ turned toward the enforcer. “Get lost.”
Belker chuckled. “She’s conning you with those crocodile tears, but suit yourself. I’ll be in the outer hall, so just give a shout if she kicks you in the nuts.”
TJ waited until the bully had disappeared, then muttered, “When the baby’s born, that guy gets his walking papers. I promise.”
“The baby.” She glanced back at the image of little Trent, standing with his parents. “He’s the silver lining in this. For everyone.”
“That’s how I see it,” TJ agreed.
She hesitated, not wanting to make him mad, but needing to know how deep his rage went. He still seemed to love the memory of Trent, didn’t he? Could she tap into that? Did she dare try?
“Can I ask you something?” she murmured finally.
“Go ahead, but be smart.”
She nodded. “This morning, when you came to Trent’s penthouse, you didn’t know your father was back. Right?”
“Right.”
“But you already knew about the night I spent with Rick. And you were going to confront me, weren’t you? To give me an ultimatum.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what it was. I know you’d never threaten to murder me in the sinkhole or turn me over to Belker. Those are your father’s instincts, not yours. So what were you going to do? Deport me?”
His eyes grew cold. “I was going to offer you a deal. A great deal as it turns out, at least compared to the one you’ve got now. Marriage in exchange for unlimited access to the sentient.”
“The sentient?” She winced. It seemed like an old dream. A childish fantasy, at least in a sense. She had grown up a lot in the last few weeks. Not that David’s appearance had caused all of that. Losing Jamie had been sobering. Seeing the faces of the platform residents, knowing that their dilemmas were so real, so immediate. And if she was completely honest with herself, falling for Rick had changed things too. Given her a different kind of perspective on the future—a future where she could continue to search for her brother but build a new life at the same time.
TJ seemed surprised by her silence. “You’ve given up on that?”
“No, not at all. But your sentient is so—well, so unimaginative, frankly.”
He chuckled. “So I noticed. But I could have ordered him to be chattier. ‘Brainstorm’ as you call it. That would have made you happy, at least for a while. And in the meantime, I figured you’d get pregnant, and you’d be happy about that too. A win-win.”
“It would have been tempting,” she mused, mostly to herself. “And once I got pregnant, you would have sent me back through the sinkhole, right? You wouldn’t have allowed our baby to be born here. It’s one of the first things you said to me. No families, no children, no babies. Because if we ever lost a child in the sinkhole—”
“I always swore I’d never let that happen. But my thinking on the issue has evolved.” His smile turned nasty. “I’m more Machiavellian than I used to be. Thanks to you.”
“I know I hurt you—”
“Hurt me?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. “You screwed your way through an army of Nobel Prize winners, then topped it off by fucking my most valuable wrangler. But somehow, sex with me was a deal breaker?”
“Okay, okay.” She was trembling, and trying not to panic. She had managed to lull this lunatic during the visit to Gabby, so why rile him up now? “I never should have slept with any of them. I should have come to you first. Trusted that you’d do the right thing. I was just so hurt. And afraid you were over me. Over us. Maybe even over Trent. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t buying it. His smirk told her that. Then he elucidated. “Don’t you want to know what would’ve happened if you had turned down my marriage proposal? Before Dad got here and made things simpler, I mean.”
“I don’t want to hear it. This isn’t you talking. It’s your father.”
“Oh, it’s me. And don’t worry, I still wouldn’t have threatened to kill you. I would have deported you safely back to Earth. You and your cowboy. And if I found proof he was illegally trafficking in bio-metal, I would have prosecuted him first. Which means I could confiscate his ship and everything on it. But at least you and he would be together, right?” he added malevolently.
Her mind reeled at the insane scenario. Confiscate the Drifter? Which meant confiscating Sensie. It was unthinkable!
She wanted to call him a monster. To insist he was every bit as evil as his father had ever been. That she’d literally kill herself before she’d conceive his spawn. And maybe if she had taken more than a quarter of a pain pill, she actually would have hurled those sorts of insults.
But she had only taken a quarter of a pill—enough to lessen her pain without dulling her mind—so she was able to tell him quietly, “I wish your father hadn’t shown up. Then we could have had that conversation. I would have welcomed it.”
“Why?”
She touched his clenched jaw. “I would have seen how much I hurt you with that stupid mistake with Rick. I would have tried to make it right, not just for our baby’s sake, but for us. This nightmare with your father complicates all that, but it doesn’t change the truth.”
“Which is?” he drawled. But despite the suspicious tone, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Not innocent hope, like a decent man might feel. It was undoubtedly selfish and ugly, but still, Alexia could work with it.
But she didn’t actually need to work with it, because TJ’s pulse band buzzed at that moment. He checked it, then announced, “It’s Gabby,” as though they had just been discussing sports or the weather. “Give me a minute.”
He wandered away, spoke in quiet tones, then came back with a pleased expression. “She’s ready for us now. So unless you want to sleep…?”
“No. There’s too much to do.”
“She asked me to give you a message.”
“Oh?”
He flashed a conciliatory smile. “She says she found that pair of sexy shoes she told you about. They’re sitting right in her living room. And she thinks it’s a good omen.” Moving his face closer to hers, he murmured, “I think so too.”
“So do I,” Alexia assured him, daring to run her fingertip across his lips. “Let’s hope it’s a new beginning for both of us.”