Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [20]
“I didn’t think you’d let me go when there was a good chance I might not come back.”
March pauses, studying me for a moment as if I’m an incomprehensible alien species. “Because we broke regs right before you left?”
Broke regs. Such an impersonal way to describe the way we made love. His touch has always made me catch my breath; he’s capable of phenomenal passion and tenderness, but right now, I’m entitled to neither. March can also be the coldest bastard in the world.
“Partly. I was afraid you wouldn’t be thinking like my commander right then.”
“So you feared I’d make an emotional decision and not a tactical one.”
“I guess I did.”
Though I’m better than most at compartmentalizing my life, before I left, I didn’t look at him in my bed, tousled with pleasure, and see him as my superior officer. I saw him as the man I loved, the one I left behind for the best and most inevitable of reasons. But maybe it was cowardice, too. So I wouldn’t have to face him and speak that good-bye in person. It’s true what they say about the road to hell and good intentions.
“You underestimated me,” he says softly. “To our detriment. If you’d outlined your plan, and I ordered you to do it, then we’d be covered. Instead, you’re twisting in the wind, and I’m faced with the charge that I can’t control my people.”
Oh, Mary. What a muddle I’ve made of things. Another apology seems futile, so I hunch my shoulders, misery draping me like a shroud. Okay, so maybe I would do things a little different. Given a second chance, I’d trust March to let me go, no matter his personal feelings. He’s always been stronger than I gave him credit for.
“If I could go back—”
“Your escort will expect you to be ready at 0700.” He cuts me off, likely knowing my regrets are pointless.
“Could you have Argus join us in the cockpit?”
“Why?” Yeah, he doesn’t trust me a millimeter anymore.
I explain my desire to attempt to train Argus on the new signals before I go into custody. He listens with a half frown, then nods. “I’ll see to it that he’s there. Teach him what you can. It will help your case if we can prove you do not, in fact, intend to hold the galaxy hostage unless your demands are met.”
“That’s what they’re saying?”
He shrugs. “It’s not the first time you’ve been called a terrorist, is it?”
No. But last time it was the Corp’s spin machine.
But it matters he’s letting me take us back to New Terra instead of insisting on a long haul in straight space. That has to mean something—a flicker of faith remains.
“You trust me not to run?” I’m glad he doesn’t think I’ll make a bad jump and attempt to escape justice.
“It wouldn’t serve. You wouldn’t be permitted to get off this ship.”
I find his response chilling, coupled with his dead eyes. “Would you order my execution, Commander?”
“Don’t put me in that position, Jax.”
So that’s a yes. He’d order his troops to kill me rather than let me go. I don’t know if we can come back from this, but I put all the balls in play. He’s only fielding what I’ve set in motion; I’d be surprised with anything else. I always knew how much a soldier he is. After all, he was a merc for more than half his life, where following orders meant the difference between life and death.
“I won’t.”
His eyes ice over. “As I recall, you also promised to respect the chain of command. So I already know what your word is worth. A sentry will be stationed outside your quarters until morning.”
No parting words as he turns, his motion sharp as only a military man’s can be. He stalks from my quarters without looking back. I would’ve given anything for a mental touch, some hint that our relationship isn’t broken beyond repair.
For love to flourish, Kai whispers in my ear, there has to be trust, Siri. Promises don’t matter as much as personal choice. I know he’s right—and I screwed this up. I’m tempted to reply, but it’s not my dead lover,