Ever Hayes - Redemption

By the look in his eyes, I knew Flynn hadn’t changed her dad’s stance. In fact, if anything, she’d probably made him want to hurt me more. This was not the kind of father who accepted a lesbian daughter. If indeed she actually is .

But as Flynn cried and pulled against him, begging him to let her stay, he gave in a little. “You know what? I’ll give you one minute with her. One. Minute.” He turned to Brock. “Brock, let her in.” He pointed at my cell. “Let her say her goodbye.”

“Daddy? Goodbye?” She looked at him with convincingly frightened eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

“Your girlfriend is a terrorist. She was sent to stop this mission with—”

“A terrorist?” I couldn’t help myself. “Seriously?”

“Shut up.” Baker pointed at me. “You shut up!” He held up a piece of paper. “Governor’s orders. I’m supposed to shoot her. I should shoot you both, in fact. All three of you.” Baker pointed at Lazzo.

“Nooooo. No, Daddy, you can’t.”

“It’s not my call. Do you want that minute or not? Last chance.”

Tears were still running down her face, and she nodded. Brock opened the door, and Flynn threw herself into my arms. She passionately hugged me—rubbing her chest back and forth against my own—sliding her hands down my back and squeezing me, thrusting her pelvis into mine. Whoa. Easy girl . She glued her lips against mine, and I could feel her hands moving around to the front of my pants. Um…okay? What the hell are you doing, Flynn? I saw her dad look sideways in disgust as she slid her fingertips inside my jeans and pulled me even tighter against her.

“Good grief.” Baker turned his back to us altogether. Instantly Flynn’s right hand released my jeans, quickly dipping into her own pocket, and then it was back inside the front of my jeans, sliding something cold into my panties. I flinched at the cool touch of metal against my skin, but I hid my smile in her lips. Damn. She is good.

“All right, that’s enough.” Captain Baker turned back to us.

Flynn pulled away from me after one last deep kiss, and I snuck a quick peek at Brock. He looked rather disappointed we’d stopped. “I’m so sorry.” Flynn’s voice was hysterical as her dad separated us. “Daddy, please… for me… please let her live.”

“You make me sick.” He shook his head. “Get her the hell out of my face.”

Brock pulled her out of the room, with Flynn screaming the whole time. The captain was clearly rattled. I knew he wouldn’t do the dirty work himself. There had to be a small part of him that would eternally feel the guilt of killing me.

Apparently I was right. He didn’t say another word. Instead he shook his head again, spun around, and stormed out the door.

Lazzo and I were alone, for now, and I saw Lazzo staring at me. “What was that about?”

I smiled and silently retreated to a dark corner of my cell. Slowly reaching down into my pants, I pulled out a keycard with a key taped to it and a four-digit number written on the back. “A second chance.”

We were left alone for the rest of the evening. No one even peeked in at us. They probably could see all they needed to through the two cameras in the corners. Shortly after midnight, when the rest of the ship was likely asleep, the door swung open and Brock came sauntering in. “Well, hello.” Such a stupid smug look. I knew he’d be focused on me. I don’t think he even glanced in Lazzo’s direction.

I needed to keep it that way. “Were you ever in a movie?” I asked with mock sincerity.

My question caught him off guard. “Uh.” He stopped walking. “No. Why?”

“Nothing, never mind.” I shook my head.

“No, who did you think I was? I’m curious.”

“I just…” I bit back my smile. “I don’t know. I could’ve sworn you were the dad in the Simpsons movie.”

My response had its desired effect. “You calling me a Homer?”

I actually wasn’t. I was calling him fat and stupid—but the “Homer” reference seemed to bother him more, so I nodded. “If it fits.”

His eyes filled with rage, and he began fumbling with his keys. I stood in the middle of my cell, arms behind my back, pretending to struggle—as if I were chained to the pole behind me. Brock fell for it.

“Oh, poor girl. Did they lock you up?” He pursed his lower lip, took his gun belt off, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Why don’t you let me help you?”

I began to beg, apologize, and tearfully plead for him to leave me alone, but he climbed up the bars and turned the cameras toward the wall. “Sorry, boys,” he said, presumably to whomever was watching from the command tower. He bolted the door from the inside, took his collared shirt off and tossed it over the back of a wooden chair. Then he turned his focus to me. “You humiliated me, bitch.” All mock pleasantness was gone. “And you just keep going. You’re going to pay for that,” he snarled. He unbuckled his belt and walked towards me—a sickening grin plastered across his face.

“Help me!” I screamed. “You can’t do this.”

Brock laughed. “I can do whatever the hell I want.” He slid a hand down the front of his pants and cackled. “Oh… I’ve been waiting for this.”

He unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, his pants now unbuttoned and unzipped. He took one long stride toward me and slapped me hard across the face. “That’s for the pervert comment.” He slapped me again, a little harder. It was all I could do to not block the blows—but he had to believe I physically couldn’t defend myself. I could taste blood now. “That’s for the molesting comment.” He slapped me one more time. “And that was just for fun.” He laughed. “Come on, that was fun.”

“Please stop,” I begged weakly, the anger in me not unlike a volcano ready to blow.

“Aww…I’m sorry. I’m just getting started.” He unbuttoned my jeans and began to pull them down, but before he could get them completely off my hips, I mustered all my strength into one shot and kneed him squarely in the nose. His head snapped back, and he fell against the bars. He sat stunned for a few long seconds, blood pouring down his face, before his rage took over. He launched himself at me, but I ducked, stepping aside as he crashed into the pole behind me. He looked down at my hands in surprise, noticing I wasn’t actually cuffed to the pole. But before he could say anything or reach out to grab me, a rope was wrenched tightly around his neck from behind.

Before Brock came in, I’d tossed the skeleton key Flynn had given me across to Lazzo. He’d unlocked his own cell and waited for Brock to be distracted to make his move. Brock’s unilateral focus on payback had given Lazzo the opportunity he needed to sneak up on the lieutenant. And with no cameras on us anymore, no one would be coming to his rescue for a while.

Lazzo now had a solid chokehold on the lieutenant. Brock struggled against the rope, but it was no use. Lazzo could have killed him. But I didn’t want that. Instead I wrapped a cloth around the fat idiot’s head, gagging him, and Lazzo led him to the darkest corner of my cell. I grabbed a set of cuffs off the wall and had Lazzo strip him of his uniform. Lazzo then cuffed Brock naked to the bars.

I put Brock’s own gun to his head, clicked off the safety, and got right up in his face. “I want you to know I could—and probably should—kill you right now.” I could see the reality of that fact register in his eyes. “Do you doubt that?” He shook his head emphatically and mumbled what I assumed was “no.”