Range (10 page)

John Hando is the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on and I don't care if my father wants to string me up on a rack, I'd never stop coming here to do these jobs with him. I'd run away and leave it all behind before I'd ever let this man go.

I'm not sleeping with him.

Yet.

But I want to be. Definitely want to be.

Chapter Eleven

John Hando grabs my pack and puts his arm around me, then chatters about his month and I forget about my break-up with Aren, my dad, and my fucked-up life back in the RR. He talks about his father, his brothers, and his mother and little sisters. They've all been asking about me. Then he rattles off what we're having for dinner tonight and finishes up with a few words about the kitten he found in the alley across from the cab station down the road from their compound.

And everything he says makes me feel warm.

Life in the Hando house is a dream to me. It's filled with people who are all connected, who leave for work but always make it home for dinner each evening. It's a family life I've never had. Ever. But something I want so bad I can almost hear my heart breaking in half when I leave them at the end of each job.

"Hey?" he asks.

I look up, into his dark eyes. "Huh?"

"You're not paying attention. Something wrong?"

I laugh a little. "Hardly, John. There's nothing wrong when I'm down here with you."

My words actually stop him and this makes me stop as well.

"What—?" I ask, but I know what. I just want to see what he says.

He tilts his head at me, the question on the tip of his tongue, but switches gears. "That's an interesting response."

My cheeks get hot and I know I'm blushing. "Interesting wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but I'll take it."

His grin is almost boyish and my heart flutters for a moment. "I've got a surprise for you," he says. "Right now. You interested?"

Normally my answer to that would be no. I'm not generally into surprises of any kind. I'm a planner, I like details, I'm definitely not spontaneous. "Absolutely," I say. This is John after all. And a surprise from him means he's been thinking about me while I've been gone.

He ushers me through the sliding doors that lead to the drop-off area at DCP, and even though they have Rangers watching to make sure no one leaves a vehicle there to go inside and pick someone up, Hand's bike is waiting where it always is. The security around it says he's got rank here.

I love this about him.

And even though I'm officially here to kill people for the Texican Mafia, I have no rank down in Dallas. I am no one. I am just a girl.

I love this about me, too.

Being behind him on his grav bike is exhilarating and honestly, this ride through the upper city is one of my favorite parts of coming to see him in Dallas. I know without fail that once a month John Hando will pick me up from the planet pad, he'll take my gear from me, escort me to his bike, and take me the long way around the city just so we can spend a little extra time together. He's never said that, of course, but I suspect it's true.

It makes me swallow, that's how touching these little things are to me. They say something. They say he cares and it's been a while since anyone I loved did that for me. Gideon has been gone so much the past few years, my dad is totally being weird, James has even stopped talking to me.

And that's pretty much all I ever had besides Aren. But that's not as fun as it used to be. He's not around much either. He's off doing advanced stuff, things I won't be allowed to do until next year.

And since I was never much into the social scene at cadets before Aren, and after we got together I let all that fall away, I simply have very little to occupy my time besides school.

And even though these trips are contract killings… it feels… good.

I'm happy down here.

He takes a corner at high speed and we dip down so low to the street he has to reach out with his gloved hand to push away from the concrete. My arms squeeze him a little tighter and I lean into his back, my chin resting on the soft leather of his jacket.

I close my eyes and enjoy how we sway together as we take the corners, how the winds whips past me like we're flying.

After several more minutes of travel we pull up at the valet of the Sagitta Building that's named after the tiny arrow the constellation Aquila holds in his talons, or, if you believe the ancient Babylonian version, the dead man he delivers to Paradise.

It's the tallest building in Dallas—and not just Upper Dallas, because the Sagitta spans the entire underbelly as well, shoots through the foundation of Upper Dallas, and then continues into the sky for almost a mile.

John waits for security to appear, then hands them my pack and our helmets. If anyone else did that I'd freak out over my pack, but the Hando family has private security everywhere. You'd never know by looking at their compound in the underbelly, but they are serious Texican royalty, with family ties that go back almost two hundred years.

Not anyone can just enter the Sagitta either, it's by invitation only unless you actually own a space.

The Handos own a space, that much I know because I've heard them talk about it before. His brothers work here, both have near-top offices on entire floors that are stamped with the Hando name.

Inside Hand directs me to the elaborate bank of elevators and the guard calls one for us. Even if you made it into the building without permission and got past the heavily armed men and AI controlled in-house weapons system, you'd never get anywhere beyond that.

The elevators run off a combined DNA-retinal scan biometric protocol only.

John pricks his finger on the tiny sticker next to the pad. It draws blood, sucks it in, and then disposes of, and replaces, the soiled needle.

The retinal scan flashes across his face and then the elevator comes to life.

"Welcome back, John. I heard you had some recent trouble. Did you rectify that situation to your satisfaction?"

The voice is male and that takes me by surprise. This is the first time I've ever heard of a male AI.

"Yeah, you need to mind your own business, that's what you need to do, Web. I had no such trouble, you're gonna make Junco here worry her pretty little head off for nothing."

I smile.

"Is her visit classified?" the AI asks.

"Uh, yeah. OK, make her classified. Erase her when we're done."

I wince at the word, but I shake it off as Hando looks down at me funny.

"Take us to the top, this is a social visit."

"Top of the world, next stop."

Our ascent is so smooth I barely notice it.

"He's jovial," I say.

"He is," Hand replies. "But don't let it fool you." He winks. "He's a bastard if your DNA doesn't match. Web becomes Deb, and Deb is a total bitch."

"Two? I've never heard of that in an AI. They are one? Or there's actually two of them?"

"Just one, Juncs. It's the whole good-cop-bad-cop thing, right? Web is the pleasant concierge and Deb is the ruthless bouncer."

"Interesting, I never knew AI's could do that."

He takes my hand as we wait and my whole body gets the chills. I will die of embarrassment if he can feel that, but I don't look at him to find out.

"Should I not hold your hand?"

"No," I say too quickly. He makes to let go but I grab hold before he can slip away. "I mean, no, don't stop holding my hand."

He cocks his head at me. "I thought you had a boyfriend or something. Back home?"

"Nope, I don't."

The smile creeps up his face as I steal a look at him. "You sure about that, Junco? I mean, I know pretty much all there is to know about you and I know you have a boyfriend."

"Your information is outdated, sorry, friend."

The ascent stops and the doors slide open.

Hand squeezes tighter. "OK, then. Let's go see something fantastic."

I take a deep breath and try to let it out slowly so he can't tell, but I didn't need to worry. I gasp all over again when I realize where we are.

The view.

I feel like I'm looking out over the entire planet. John leads me up a flight of spiral stairs that wind around the elevator. The platform is very small, only big enough to allow maybe eight or ten people to squish together in the round space.

He steps back and leans against a railing as I spin slowly in place. We're in the apex of the arrow and everything that surrounds me is glass. Only the red carpeting on the floor reminds me that I'm still on Earth.

"You like it?" he says from directly behind me.

"I do," I whisper.

"I'm glad you broke up with that guy. Because I was gonna bring you up here whether you were with him or not when you got off that sub."

I turn and stretch my arms up to his shoulders. He's so tall compared to me so I have to stand on my tippy-toes, but my fingertips slip around his neck like we're evenly matched. "Why?"

His face stays calm and unreadable as he studies my face, then takes his gaze to my eyes and stops there. "Because I want to kiss you, Junco. And I want to kiss you here, on top of the world. So that you'll never have another kiss like it for as long as you live."

Holy shit. He's not only beautiful, he's a romantic too. "I might never go back home if you keep talking to me like that, John."

"I'm not letting you go home."

I have to take a big gulp of air over this bit of sweet talk.

"I know who you are. I know what they do."

I shake my head. "No, you have no idea, John. I'm a—"

His face is dipping down towards me and my words stop as I concentrate on his mouth.

"I know what they've done to you, Junco." His hand slides to the back of my head and he's urging me up towards him. "And I don't think I'm going to let you go home this time. They don't deserve you."

His lips brush up against mine and I almost fall over with the gentle touch. His mouth opens and then his fingers travel up through my hair, along my scalp, sending a shiver through my whole body.

His kiss is slow. He starts with his mouth open, brushing his lips over mine, just slightly, just enough to make me crazy and wanting. I try to keep up with him but my mind is blown. Completely blown with the passion. Then his tongue flicks, asking for more.

I have never felt like this before.

The little flutter kisses continue and then he pulls back and stares down into my soul. "Don't go home, Junco."

"OK," is all I can manage before he's kissing me again. "OK," I repeat it. I won't, I say to myself.

But of course I did go home. Because if I had stayed with John Hando none of this would ever have happened.

I'd be his wife instead of that woman in the picture he showed me. Those babies might be mine. Those golden little babies with wispy brown hair and large dark eyes.

If I had stayed, I might be that girl, and not this one.

It stuns me a little, to know that I have such deep regrets at this young age.

I made a mistake that weekend.

I made a mistake and even if I get my satisfactory end, I'm not sure I'll ever stop regretting walking away from John Hando with nothing more between us than kissing at the top of the world.

I leave the Hando Compound in the eternal darkness of the belly before any of his little sisters can wake up and cry and beg me to stay. It was so hard to see them again knowing I have to leave. Even Vincent looked sad last night when I told them my story, and unlike Cora's version, I did give the details. They deserved the details. They were my only family that senior year of school.

Hand's mom, Gerta, clutched her smaller children to her bosom and tsked her tongue over and over again when I got to the part about Inanna and Gideon. She covered their tiny ears when I described my second stint in the tank. She's a baby machine, that woman. Hand is the fifth child of fifteen and there was a trio of younger siblings clamoring around my legs that I'd never even met before.

The canvas jacket Mia gave me is soft and comfortable and smells like them. A nice reminder to take with me into the world of death that I live in.

Vincent gives me the best grav bike they have even though I tell him I won't need it. He insists, then admits it's hot so why not let me dispose of it? I just laugh as he stocks the storage compartment with food, water, ammo and a loaded TZi with an extra magazine.

Hand mounts his own bike and escorts me to the edge of the belly where we stop on the side of the road that leads north, towards the former RR. He grounds his bike and removes his helmet, then sets it down on the seat and walks over to me. I flip my visor up and force myself to smile and meet his dark eyes. I can feel the sadness building up in my throat and it starts to ache. I push it down but it makes its way out of my eyes as light. If this bothers Hand he never shows it. "Thank you," I whisper.