Chapter Three

Sarai slid slowly and quietly out of Jax's embrace. He was sleeping deeply, his sooty black eyelashes resting against his cheeks. She'd awakened to find him holding her close, his body wrapped around hers protectively. It felt good to be held, something she hardly dared admit to herself. She felt safe in his arms.

It was a feeling she couldn't let herself get used to.

His touch last night had shattered her control, forcing her to face up to the reality that she wasn't complete and independent in herself. It made her feel weak, useless. Maybe she really was the kind of woman who needed a man to survive…No. She was more than that, and she couldn't let herself forget it.

She padded over to the chest of drawers where she kept her clothes and pulled out a fresh dress. Many of the women on Hector Prime wore jumpsuits or pants, just like the men, but her own upbringing had been more conservative. Despite the fact that she had left the Pilgrim way of life behind for good, she still wasn't quite able to bring herself to wear what she thought of as men's clothing.

That didn't stop her from dressing Mali in the same coveralls that all the other little girls wore, though. For the thousandth time, Sarai looked in the mirror and swore to herself that her daughter would have a better life than she had had. She glanced at the bed as she pulled on her clothing. Falling into the sack with any handsome man who crossed her path wouldn't make it any easier to give her daughter the kind of life she deserved, she told herself sternly. No matter how good Jax made her feel, she had to remember what was really important—her family, and her independence. There was nothing more important than that, nothing.

She quietly opened the door and made her way down the hall. It was still early; hopefully the children wouldn't be up quite yet. They'd had a late night. Time to start breakfast and pretend nothing had happened. Able was already worried about Jax, and Mali was halfway in love with the man. It would be best if they had as little to do with him as possible.

* * *

Able crouched in the bushes, watching Jax throw the flying disk to Mali. She was giggling hysterically, thrilled at the attention the man was giving her. Each time Jax threw the disk, he was careful to keep it slow and steady, so she actually had a chance of catching it. Able curled his lip in disgust. Mali was too stupid to see what Jax was doing—he would use them to get to mom if they let him.

The leaves beside him rustled, and he turned to see one of the furry little mammals that lived in the garden watching him. It held a large nut in its paws. Boy and animal held each other's gaze for several minutes, then Mali shrieked in the background. The animal leapt away in fright, leaving the nut behind.

Able reached out and picked it up thoughtfully, turning to eye Jax and his sister. It felt good in his hand, with a nice heft. Able clenched his fingers around it. Mali had dropped the disk, and was running up to Jax. The man swung the young girl up in his arms and twirled her around. She giggled, kicking her legs out and crowing with happiness.

Mali made him sick, Able thought.

Jax set her down, and she ran toward the back of the house to retrieve the disk. Able stood up slowly, careful not to make any noise. He cocked his arm back and took careful aim with the nut. It was sharp and pointed on one end; if he got it just right he might really hurt the man. Maybe he'd leave, then.

With every bit of his strength, Able launched the nut at the side of Jax's head. It hit him against one temple. He gave a cry, and turned toward Able, eyes searching for his attacker.

Bright red blood ran down his face. Able froze. He'd done it, now, he realized. Jax was going to kill him. Mali screamed in the background and took off toward the hostel.

Ignoring the blood running down his face and dripping on to his shoulder, Jax strode through the brush toward Able. It didn't even occur to the boy to flee. He'd run from his father a hundred times, and he always got caught. Jax reached him, and grasped the front of his shirt, pulling him out of the brush. He knelt down and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Why did you do that, Able?" he asked quietly, his face sober. Able gaped at him in surprise. Of all the things he could have imagined Jax might do to him, he hadn't considered being questioned.

"I, uh, I don't know," he said, trying to keep his voice strong. To his disgust, his words came out soft and trembling.

"Did you throw it at me because you thought I was hurting Mali?" Jax asked, searching his face.

"No," Able said. To his horror, he could feel tears building up in his eyes. He sniffed his nose fiercely, bracing himself. He wasn't going to break down and cry, no matter what Jax did to him. He wasn't.

"Did you throw it at me because you think I might hurt your mother?"

"Yes," Able whispered. He couldn't look into Jax's eyes anymore. He could feel more moisture welling up, and his lower lip started trembling. It was so hard not to cry when you knew you were going to get hit, he thought. Too hard. He sniffed again. Jax stood up, surprising him.

"Why don't we go sit down over here and talk about this," Jax said, gesturing to the table where mom sometimes let them have picnic lunches. Jax reached a hand down, touching his shoulder. Able flinched. Jax pulled his hand back, and walked ahead of Able to the table. The boy eyed the distance to the hostel door speculatively, wondering if he could make it that far before Jax caught him. Not a chance…He followed Jax to the table, sitting down across from him. At least this way the table was between them; it might offer some protection.

"Able, I think I understand how you feel," Jax said, looking down at him. Able sniffed again, but this time it came out as more of a snort. This man had no idea how he felt. He wiped a hand across his face, removing the treacherous moisture. Jax was silent, as if he expected a reply. Able just glared at him.

"Able, it's a good thing for a young man to protect his mother," Jax said. "I'm proud of the fact that you take such good care of Mali and Sarai. But I think you need to consider whether attacking me is really going to accomplish anything here. I don't want to hurt your mother, and I don't want to hurt your sister. I like them."

"So?" Able mumbled. He looked up at Jax, then took a deep breath and spoke defiantly. "We don't need you. We had a father, and we don't need a new one. And mom doesn't need you, either. She has us for her family."

He braced himself for the blow he knew had to be coming, his eyes closing.

Nothing happened.

"I'm not going to hit you, Able," Jax said, his voice sounding strange. Almost sad, but that couldn't be right. Why would Jax be sad? "I just want you to understand that it isn't a very good idea to throw things at me, or anyone else, for that matter. Using physical force against someone should always be the last thing you try, when there aren't any other choices left. It's a good way for you to get hurt, and if you get hurt there won't be anyone around to take care of your mother and sister. Do you understand that?"

Able glared at him, hating him. He wanted Jax to go away; he threatened the family.

The fact that he was being nice right now was probably just a trick.

"Well, I'm not upset at you this time, Able," Jax said, fingering the cut on his head for the first time. "You sure got me, though," he added with a chuckle. "I knew you were out there, but this was the last thing I was expecting. It just goes to show you should never underestimate someone because he's still young. Let's call a truce for now, all right?"

"What's happening out here?" Sarai's voice was high-pitched and frightened as she came running toward them. Mali trailed behind her, eyes wide. "Able, are you all right?"

"It's nothing, Sarai," Jax said, standing up. "Able is fine. Just a little misunderstanding.

He and I have been talking about it."

Sarai stopped short, seeing the trail of blood and the spatters on his shirt for the first time.

"What happened?" she asked again, turning to Able. Her eyes searched up and down his form for damage, but he was fine.

"I think that Able and I have come to an understanding," Jax said firmly. "Haven't we?"

Able stared at him a moment longer, then turned to his mother. Her face was twisted in concern, and remorse hit him. He hadn't wanted to make her upset, or to scare Mali. She was terrified, he could see that. She had crept up behind Mom, gripping her around the knees and hiding her head in her skirts.

"It's fine, Mom," he said, trying to make his voice sound grown up. "Jax and I have just been talking about things. Don't worry about it."

"Jax, I need to know what happened here," Sarai said, hands on her hips. Mali squeaked at her harsh tone.

"Sarai, it's really nothing to worry about," Jax said. He shot Able a quick look, and for a second seemed almost friendly. Able realized that they shared a secret now, a secret just for them. "We were just talking about how a man takes care of his family. Able's going to be a good man some day, you should be proud of him."

Able's chest swelled with pride, although he tried to tamp down the emotion. No one had ever said anything like that about him before. Of course, he wasn't interested in anything Jax had to say about him. Not interested at all.

He gave Jax another appraising stare. He would have to keep an eye on the man, he thought. He was pretty sneaky. He looked back at his mom, who was watching every move he made. He smiled at her, but her face just got tighter.

"Well, you need to take care of that cut on your face, Jax," she finally said. "It doesn't look serious, but I've got some disinfectant inside. You'd better come with me."

Jax nodded, and she turned to walk toward the kitchen, dragging Mali along with her.

Jax gave Able another measuring look, and the boy straightened. He understood what Jax had been saying. There were smarter ways to protect Mom and Mali. Now he just needed to figure out what they were…

* * *

Sarai tried to control the trembling of her hands as she washed the blood off Jax's face.

Her heart was still racing; the adrenaline had hit her with the force of an ore transport when Mali had come tearing into the kitchen, screaming that Jax and Able were trying to kill each other.

She'd halfway expected to find her son dead. She had no doubt he'd attacked Jax, a man who was trained to kill. After all, soldiers killed for a living.

She still didn't understand what had really happened out there, but Jax wasn't talking.

She was willing to bet Able wouldn't, either. The boy was young, but he had a mind of his own. She might never know what had taken place between them…

"Sarai, this really isn't that serious a cut," Jax said, looking up at her with amusement.

"I've lived through much worse than this. You don't need to fuss over it."

"Oh, be quiet," Sarai said, pinching her lips. He was right, of course. The cut did seem to be small, and the bleeding had stopped. She wiped away the last of the dried blood carefully, then placed a small healing patch over the cut, pressing against it to activate it.

Within seconds it had bound itself against the skin, and its tiny computer chip was analyzing the wound and medicating it. She was still amazed by these little patches that everyone around her seemed to take for granted. They could heal a cut in a day. Back home, this cut would have left a scar. She still couldn't understand why her people refused to accept such simple pieces of technology to make their lives better.

"There, it's done," she said in satisfaction. "You'll be fine."

"Thanks," he said, giving her a wry smile. There was a tenderness in his eyes that made her think he wanted to kiss her, but then his gaze darted across the table to Mali, who was watching them intently. Jax stood, then reached out one finger to touch Sarai's lips. It sent a tingle of awareness through her. She wanted to kiss it.

"Later," he whispered. He turned and left the room. Sarai stared at the empty doorway, touching her lips where his finger had been. How did he do things like that? she wondered.

He was going to drive her crazy.

Загрузка...