Page 3 of Under His Skin

“A reporter? Why?” Tracht couldn’t think of a single reason why his ship would be of interest to anybody. Nothing actually happened beyond the usual drama found on long-distance space travel. But even the suggestion of it set him on edge. “Do you think she contacted anybody else on the crew?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s prevent anybody from leaving for the next hour or so and monitor all incoming calls. I’ll round up the crew and warn everybody.” Bahjat grimaced and added, “We can probably make it clear to the current crew what the consequences are, but it might be harder preventing anybody else from talking. The way Ackerman left last time…”

Damn, Tracht had forgotten about Ackerman. He’d resigned the last time they were on Cadmus, with enough resentment all around that Tracht could see him eager for a payout in exchange for spreading slander about him. “He can’t possibly be stupid enough to defame me, right? Who’s he working for right now?”

Bahjat opened a file on her tablet and handed it over. “He’s on the Balthasar now. It’s one of Lysander Corp’s ships. The captain is—”

“Peter Nehmann,” Tracht finished, not even needing to look at the file. “I know him. He’s… not a fan of mine.”

Bahjat snorted in amusement and didn’t even pretend she hadn’t when Tracht gave her a disdainful look. “No offense, Captain, but there are a lot of people who aren’t fans of yours. Any particular reason?”

A lot of them, but Tracht didn’t want to go into it with her. “I’ll handle Ackerman. Just make sure the crew knows that if anybody is caught speaking to reporters, their employment prospects will look very slim… In not so many words.”

“Sure. I’ll pretty that up a bit.” Bahjat sighed. “I’m sure most of them wouldn’t talk, anyway. But you might have to pay more attention from now on. You’re not a bad man to work for, but the people who hate you really hate you.”

“Thank you for that opinion.” Tracht said dryly. He was perfectly aware that he had burned quite a few bridges.

She shrugged, not at all bothered by his tone. “You don’t want opinions? Hire a yes-man. And with that, I think I’ll go check on the crew.”

Tracht knew she was right, so he let her have the last word. It was too stupid to surround himself only with people who agreed with him, no matter how much he preferred being obeyed. That’s what he had Alex for, anyway.

That thought just put him into a worse mood, knowing that Alex was one small appointment away from being free of him. Better to focus on the problem at hand than to allow himself to dwell on the inevitable.

He headed to his office and called Vasilis. Frustratingly, it was the assistant, Mr. Roth, who answered.

“Is Vasilis there? Tell him it’s Johannes.”

Roth was an older man with dark skin and graying hair. As long as Tracht had known the man, he had never once cracked a smile in his life. Tracht had to admire him for that, although it made him particularly hard to read.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Lysander is currently in a meeting,” Roth said. “I’ll let him know you called, though. Is there anything I should relay?”

“Yes. Tell him it’s about Peter Nehmann, and a former employee of mine. And have him call back as soon as he’s available. It’s urgent.”

Tracht ended the call and slumped into his chair. He could feel a headache forming, and the skin around his neck felt like it was pulled far too tight. He’d noticed how whenever he was stressed, he would feel the phantom pain of hooks in his flesh, and it angered him all over again.

He wanted to go up to his quarters, tie Alex up, and beat him bloody. He wanted to see Alex crying out in pain, real tears streaming down his face, begging to know what he’d done to piss Tracht off, desperate to end all the suffering and unable to do anything about it.

Maybe Tracht would have done it a year ago, but with the contract pretty much completed, anything he did to chase Alex off would be… ill advised.

He used to be calmer than this. Then he chuckled to himself. No, he’d never been as collected as he pretended to be. He knew he got angry easily. He’d just always been able to control himself and find ways of working off the anger that didn’t affect anything he valued.

Tracht was still sitting at his desk, brooding, when Alex came in. There was a distinct sulk on Alex’s face, although to anybody else it probably looked more like an angry scowl.

“Aren’t you done with work?” Alex asked. “I got the bath ready.”

“I don’t appreciate that tone,” Tracht reprimanded, although he didn’t truly care. Five years ago, Tracht wouldn’t have been able to imagine Alex doing anything unprompted. Five years ago, he couldn’t have imagined having the choice to either beat Alex or bathe with him, and choosing the bath.

But that was what he was going to do. He was going to let Alex appease him with this, and hopefully that would take the edge off enough that he wouldn’t do something he regretted.

“I just meant… the water’s gonna get cold.” Alex looked around the office. “If you didn’t want the bath, you shoulda said.”

Tracht stood up and went over to Alex, patting him on the shoulder. “Something came up, but it’s done for now. Let’s go.”

He led them back to their quarters, Alex flipping between sulking and needy. He didn’t try to touch Tracht, but he hovered close enough that it was clear what he wanted. Tracht kept his hands to himself and enjoyed watching Alex squirm.

Maybe there were still ways left to torture Alex. And since they were on station again, Tracht could find some public venues to humiliate Alex. Yes, that’s what he would do. They’d get the bondleasing thing taken care of, he would extract Alex’s promise to stay, then Tracht would thoroughly degrade and debase him. He liked the idea of that.

With a plan squarely in mind, Tracht’s mood lifted. He was being overdramatic lately. The reporter issue would be taken care of by Vasilis, and Alex would never leave him. His life would continue exactly as he wanted it.

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