Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [19]
“Give me a few,” I say, and he inclines his head.
In the bathroom, I lean my head against the wall, fighting tears. If this is victory, why do I feel as if I’ve lost everything? After several moments, I strip out of my muddy clothes, but nothing can scrub away what I’ve done. I’d like to wreck the place, but it’s a utilitarian space, nothing I can break or throw. So, denied that, I clean up quickly and join Vel. After I pull my damp hair back, I step back in my cabin, marginally more prepared for bad news, if there’s more of it. Mary, how could there be? I sit down and go to work on my food while Vel watches me, his head canted in concern.
“How bad is this going to be?” I ask eventually.
“The trial will be a nightmare.” Vel doesn’t pull his punches. “You will, most likely, be isolated for your own protection.”
“People want me dead, then.”
“Some.”
How many is some? So the tide of public opinion has turned. Good to know. Before I can think what else to ask, the door swishes open. Seems like so much longer since I’ve seen March. I left him in our bed, but he doesn’t resemble my lover now. His face is hard and wary, eyes like slivers of ancient amber.
“Thanks for staying,” he says to Vel.
It’s clearly a dismissal, and the former bounty hunter departs with an inclination of the head.
CHAPTER 6
March wears a uniform well, even when he’s wishing me to perdition. I drink him in, as I’m glad to see him regardless of his mood. We stand in a silent tableau for endless moments; he doesn’t come toward me, and there’s no welcome in his eyes. Instead, he laces his hands behind him, a military stance.
So that’s how we’re playing it. I’m nothing if not adaptable, a Jax for every occasion. Most people would say that makes me crazy. Maybe they’d be right. I come to my feet, no longer at ease, but I stop shy of a salute. “Hit knew nothing about the mission beforehand. I want her exonerated.”
March nods, agreeing to my terms of surrender. “I’m sure Vel apprised you of the situation.”
“We’re heading for Ocklind, I gather.”
“I have permission for you to get a night’s sleep before you jump us there.”
Right now, I’m the only one who can. “I appreciate that.”
“It was Tarn’s idea.”
Ouch. Now there’s no question where I stand with him. I’ve never seen the man so coldly angry. At this point, I could offer excuses for my behavior, but at base, I would make the same choice again. I feel sick and terrible; I may never shake the weight. But even knowing the consequences, I would sacrifice those three ships for the sake of billions. I carry the guilt for those we lost in grimspace as well, but it was the right choice. I’m sure of it.
But I understand the Conglomerate’s difficulty, as well. I put them in a bad position. If the ships had been destroyed in battle with the Morgut, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But since I took matters into my own hands, the circumstances are different.
Yet I didn’t know if my idea would work; it wasn’t something for which I could’ve sent warnings ahead. By the time they received them, more ships—and maybe worlds, too—would’ve been lost to the red cloud. I did what I had time to do, what the crisis demanded.
“Are we finished?”
In those three words, I ask about a hundred questions, but I don’t sense him in my head. Probably, it’s better if March keeps his distance. He doesn’t need my shit to splatter all over his pristine uniform.
“I don’t know,” he says softly. “Certainly your military career is over. You may end up with a dishonorable discharge even if you avoid a criminal sentence.”
“That’s not what I was asking.”
“It’s all I feel equipped to answer right now. As your commanding officer, your decision reflects on me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Instead of trusting me to make the best