Chapter Twenty-Six

He was building a wall out of hardened steel, ten sheets thick. Impenetrable by even the greenest, most intelligent eyes.

Jun would brick himself up into the wall until Theo had no choice but to go on his way and leave him behind.

So what if the wall made Jun feel like he was running out of air? Like he couldn’t breathe at the prospect of losing Theo forever.

Forever probably wasn’t going to be all that long for Jun anyway.

He could do this, bluster his way through a Crew of low-rate Raiders on the dregs of his old reputation, drop some credits he really couldn’t afford, and bring back Theo’s twin brother.

The only person Theo loved.

Jun could do that for him, and then he would let Theo go.

Because that was the right thing to do. The honorable thing.

He knew it was because it was the thing that hurt the most.

Pain was often a good indicator that his moral compass was pointed in the right direction, for once.

It wasn’t difficult. The Raiders were a small Crew, not affiliated with anyone Jun needed to worry about. He would wager this had been their first successful Raid in a while. Striking low and easy, picking up a little Core scientist and his bumbling Verge boyfriend when their ship was out of order.

And, if he was a little rough in his dealings with them after seeing them lead a man who looked like Theo stumbling behind in mag-cuffs, well, that was his business.

Even having seen him on the vid feed, Theo’s twin was a surprise.

Identical was an understatement.

Ari could have fooled anyone who hadn’t looked into Theo’s green eyes long enough to notice they were a slightly brighter shade, that his head was held at a jauntier angle, and his limbs were looser and more confident.

Then, of course, there was the hair. Where Theo’s flowed wild and free, Ari’s was cropped close to his head, disheveled by his misadventures but clearly meant to be neat and tidy.

Ari squinted dubiously at Jun with poorly disguised fear, the mouth Jun was so used to seeing wide open around a waterfall of words now pinched tight.

It was mindboggling to imagine the two contradictory brothers interacting. Jun couldn’t wait to see it.

He kept up his full Captain Park act as he loaded them onto the dinghy and for the duration of the journey, savoring the anticipation of witnessing Theo’s face light up when Jun delivered his twin safe and sound.

The bigger the buildup, the more spectacular the results, and if this was going to be the last time he saw Theo’s face, Jun was going to make sure it was spectacular.

The giant Verge rat had been a little harder to handle, for all that he staunchly remained at Ari’s side. Jun would have been just as happy to leave him behind, if he could have borne the disappointment on Theo’s face.

The man was clearly used to his size causing intimidation, but Jun knew that some of the most frightening people came in small packages. Barnes was short and stout, and Jun had never feared another man more.

When Jun docked the dinghy with Ari’s shiny little ship in tow and opened the doors to Sylvia’s cargo bay, the larger man busted out of his arm cuffs with unnecessary drama. He stepped in front of Ari and flourished the tiniest blade Jun had ever seen in his hamlike fist. Barely refraining from rolling his eyes at the man’s posturing, Jun led them out into the cargo hold. He kept a careful eye on the Verge rat while he waited for Theo to arrive, an unfamiliar, bright emotion filling him at the expectation of Theo’s joy.

He held his breath and kept his posture casual, trying not to reveal his building anticipation. If these were the last moments Jun would spend with Theo, at least he would get to see him rejoice at his brother’s return. Jun could soak up the moment from afar, something he could hold on to in the dark, lonely days ahead.

It didn’t take long before Theo careened into the bay, knocking over something that Jun could only hope was noncombustible.

For all their sakes.

Ari collapsed into Theo’s arms, and Jun could sense the tension releasing from Theo’s spine, the razor-sharp edge of anxiety he had kept carefully concealed all this time, melting away at a single touch.

It was as if, from the moment they saw each other, the twins fell back into roles so well-worn Jun could practically see the grooves.

He did his best to appear detached, steel wall holding steady, even as he took in Theo’s explosive, contagious joy with greedy eyes and ears. Holding on tight to each moment with his stained hands.

The wall started to crumble when Theo turned his attention to Jun with full, fiery force, and Jun had to make his escape.

A tactical retreat, to regroup and rebuild those walls. He needed to tighten his resolve to send Theo away, to do the right thing. The painful, difficult thing. Jun walked away from the brothers’ reunion to the rear of the dinghy, escaping unnoticed.

He cursed as he struggled with detaching the dinghy’s hitch from Ari’s ship. He needed to make sure it was ready for departure. If he was launching Theo into space, he was going to do it as safely as possible.

“Hey, watch it, now. You oughta treat a lady kindly if you’re trying to get under her skirt like that.”

Jun glared at the Verge rat—Ari had introduced him as Mr. Stone—who had followed him to the back of the dinghy. Stone was aptly named. He was already a stone in Jun’s shoe, grinning at Theo’s theatrics and dripping that syrupy Verge charm all over him. At least Jun wouldn’t have to put up with him for long. Ari and his insufferable Mr. Stone would be gone as soon as Jun could shove them back on this little ship. Jun kicked the hitch open with the heel of his boot, ignoring a shout of protest.

Stone hurried over, clicking his tongue as though he were trying to soothe a child, and smoothed a loving hand over the small ship’s hull. “Don’t you worry, Delilah. I won’t let the bad man hurt you again.”

Jun got the feeling he was going to spend every brief moment in Stone’s company attempting not to gag over that honey-mouthed Verge accent. He packed up the mag-hitch and shoved it back in the dinghy’s hatch with a grunt while Stone cooed over the other ship. Jun slanted a skeptical glance at the man’s bruised face. “You’re a pilot?”

Stone cut off the simple little song he was singing to a hunk of metal and raked Jun over with a sharp gaze. “Sure am. Best on the Verge.”

A dubious distinction, but it was better than sending Theo out on his own, just hoping he didn’t press the wrong button and jettison himself. Jun kicked at the hatch until the lock clicked shut, ignoring Stone’s sympathetic wincing. “You can make the jump back across?”

The Crew was going to kill him if Jun spent another hard-earned credit, but there was nothing he wouldn’t pay to ensure Theo’s safety. Verge pilots were notorious for overcharging, especially for their specialty services in crossing the Verge barrier without zapping their passengers into lumps of coal.

Jun would pay whatever Stone asked, and to make amends, Jun could let Boom use him for target practice at their next mandatory weapons training.

Axel would jump at the chance to hit Jun with a stun ray. Marco would miss on purpose. Boom would take him out at the knees.

It would be fine. Well worth it, to know Theo was safe.

Jun had known, as soon as he’d retrieved the twins’ tiny ship, that his fate was sealed. Now, he could send Theo away on something more spaceworthy than the dinghy.

With a halfway decent pilot, even.

If he had been searching for an excuse to keep him here, Jun had run out of options.

Theo had translated enough of the code that Jun could probably work out the rest.

If he captured an entire linguistics department from another Core university.

He would have to worry about that later. For now, the priority was getting Theo off his ship and as far away from Jun as possible, before their affiliation became known.

Better to sever their growing attachment than to bring Theo down into the pit with him.

Because, once Barnes sniffed out a speck of weakness, he would strike.

And Theo was a glaring spotlight on everything soft that remained in Jun. Everything that he hadn’t managed to burn away when he’d bitten down on a leather belt and screamed his way through Boom’s hurried, unanesthetized disconnection of all his circuits. When he had detonated his former life and crawled his way free.

Jun had once thought there was nothing soft left among the pile of rubble inside of him, but Theo had pulled it out and dusted it off with a grin. Held it out with careful hands as if to say “See? You were only waiting for me, all along,” with green eyes dancing. Just the thought of it sent a pang through Jun’s chest.

And, as usual, Jun was left with no choice.

The only way to keep him safe was to make sure Barnes never caught sight of him, never marked Theo down as a weapon to be wielded with his trademark ruthless cruelty.

What was the saying? “If you love something, let it go”?

Jun had to let Theo go, because he—

There was a chance, that he—he might—

Love might be involved.

It was hard to see clearly under all the metaphorical dust flying off the surface of his heart as Theo cracked it open to crawl inside.

If this aching, yearning emotion that was eating Jun from the inside out was love, then he had never met a more destructive force or faced a more terrifying opponent.

And he had once battled a Raider in full mech with nothing but his bare hands and a broken chain for the amusement of his boss.

This feeling?

Much scarier.

Jun was about to demand Stone’s price when the man spun on his heel and took off at Ari’s sudden sharp cry. Jun followed after at Theo’s answering shriek. The twins were right where they had left them, once in a loving embrace, now embroiled in a slapping, hair-pulling battle.

When Jun had imagined the twins’ reunion, he had pictured something more tearful. Something less of a screeching brawl.

It was glorious.

During the dark, lonely weeks ahead, Jun was going to watch the vid feed of the fight over and over again, just to remember Theo at his wildest. At his best.

Theo was a blazing bundle of chaos, and Jun was going to miss him like sunlight on a deep-space mission.