Chapter Thirteen
Keirth crawled into the tiny bed on the ship, pulling the thin blanket over his body. He and Ariana hadn’t gotten much sleep, and though he didn’t feel tired exactly, he noted that Ariana had dark circles under her eyes and suggested they try to nap. The ship would be in hyperspace for several more hours. He’d programmed the ship to wake him by alarm before they reached their destination, wherever that might be. He really should look up the coordinates and find out where he’d sent them.
He started to get out of bed but then stopped. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care where they ended up. Not really.
He lay on his back, staring up into the darkness of the room. He had thought it would feel different. He’d been focusing on this for so long. He’d lived for killing Risciter. Now that Risciter was dead, he’d expected to feel vindicated and triumphant. He’d expected to have a feeling of accomplishment. But he didn’t feel anything, not really.
It hadn’t gone the way he’d planned it. In his dreams, he’d snuck up on Risciter, taken him unawares, tied him up and gloated over him while Risciter cringed from him in fear. He’d dreamed of wrenching apologies from Risciter’s lips, of hearing Risciter say over and over again that he regretted what he’d done.
In reality, it had been chaotic. Risciter had outsmarted him more than once. He’d had no control over the situation. He’d killed Risciter, not out of revenge, not really, but to protect Ariana, to save himself. It wasn’t quite the same thing.
But it wasn’t as if he could bring Risciter back to life and try again. It shouldn’t matter how he’d done it. It was done. He’d achieved the thing he’d worked for his whole life. So why did everything seem so empty now? Why could he only think of the blood all over his body, of the sickening sound of the knife thumping into Risciter’s body over and over again? And why did those thoughts only make him cold inside, not proud?
Keirth rolled over onto his side. Now what?
He’d never thought beyond killing Risciter, not since he was fifteen years old. Afterwards, he’d assumed he’d be caught and killed, and he hadn’t cared about that. He’d assumed that once he killed Risciter, he would feel finished. He could go to his death knowing he’d done what he set out to do. But he didn’t feel any of that. And he didn’t think he was ready to die.
But what else could he do? He’d killed Risciter with no thought of the consequences, and Risciter had sent a message that pinned the crimes on him. He certainly couldn’t go gallivanting all over the galaxy, wherever he pleased, not if the authorities were looking for him, which they would be. If he chose to live, he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, hiding, an outlaw.
Keirth rolled back onto his back. That was the way it would have to be, then. He wouldn’t give up. He wasn’t ready to die. If he was going to have to spend the rest of his life running, so be it.
Then his thoughts shifted to Ariana. What was he going to do with her? She was determined not to go back home to the sector. He’d wanted to leave her on Scranth before. Thank goodness he hadn’t. Scranth hadn’t been safe. And if he hadn’t been there, Risciter would have killed her. But now Risciter was out of the way. Ariana’s safety wasn’t in question. He wouldn’t force her to go home, not if she didn’t want, but he needed to find a place for her somewhere.
* * *
Ariana woke up gasping from a dream. In it, Risciter was chasing her through the rooms of the brothel, which were becoming narrower the more she ran. He was laughing, brandishing his knife, and calling her horrible names.
She sat up in her bed. It took a moment to remember where she was. On the ship. In hyperspace. Safe. Keirth had saved her.
She tried to steady her breathing. She was okay now. She was safe here. With Keirth. As long as Keirth was around, she didn’t have to be afraid. But would Keirth keep her around? He’d been trying to get rid of her ever since she’d met him. Doubtless, he still wanted her gone.
Although maybe not. She thought of the kiss they’d shared on the ship, before Keirth had found the tracking device, before Risciter had... She shuddered. Everything regarding Risciter was a little blurry. She wanted to keep it that way. No, it was better to think of Keirth. Keirth covering her nakedness in the cottage, freeing her from the ropes that bound her to the bed. Better yet, Keirth kissing her, his hands roaming over her body. His urgent lips. He’d wanted her. She’d known that he wanted her in that moment.
She wanted to be around Keirth. He kept her safe. But he might send her home, to the shame and rigidity that awaited her with her family. She couldn’t face that. She lay back on her bed, remembering a conversation she’d had with Keirth on Trioth. He’d spoken to her about his resolve never to lie with a woman. He’d said that lying with a woman and then leaving her showed her contempt. He’d said that he couldn’t commit to a woman because he was focused on revenge. But Risciter was dead now, so Keirth didn’t need to worry about that. And he wanted her.