Page 77 of Jump or Fall
Max was disgusting in his own way. His appearance was like a caricature of the skeevy pervert with greased hair and an inability to keep his eyes to himself. Dawson at least knew how to pretend.
Karena strutted into the kitchen and grabbed a plate before sitting at the table across from her. Dawson didn’t acknowledge her presence and continued to read over her shoulder.
Sighing dramatically, Karena plated up her food. “When will we get to use knives again in this house?” She shot a glare at Mara.
Dawson stopped rubbing her shoulders and placed his hands on the back of the chair.
“If your mouth is bored,” he said, “I have something you can do with it.”
Mara’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. There was always some kind of tension when she was around. Karena had been on better behavior than that first day, but they mostly avoided each other. Today, however, she seemed to be in a defiant mood.
Mara watched her take a bite of an apple slice and lick her lips in a seductive way while Dawson approached. He caressed her neck, then kissed the top of her head.
“Play nice,” he said, and left the room.
Karena’s grin said she was pleased with herself. Mara gnawed at the inside of her cheek and stood to leave.
“You know he’ll never love you, right?” Karena taunted.
Mara looked into her large blue eyes. “I don’t think I’m the one confused about that.”
Her face contorted in disgust. “You’re just a low-class Kaplan slut, and he’ll be done with you soon.”
Mara sighed. “Why do you want him? Didn’t he kidnap you too?”
The look in her eyes was wild. “He’s strong and takes what he wants. I can’t respect a man who lets others walk all over him.”
Mara shook her head and left. There was something wrong with that woman, and it was pointless to argue. She often noticed a glazed-over look in her eyes and suspected she was using drugs.
Maybe Karena just needed a job—something that could take her mind off Dawson.
***
A new batch of fabric was waiting for Mara in the vault. It arrived before noon, but she’d been so busy repairing connectors it slipped her mind. The day was almost over, but she needed to get it all sorted. Geller would be furious if it wasn’t stored properly with the inventory updated.
Damn it. There was a new color. She would need to create a new category in the system for it.
A hand clamped down on her arm. She jerked and spun around—Dawson.
“Just me, doll.”
Why is he here?
He closed the vault door and pulled her in for a kiss. His mouth urged hers to open as his hands trailed down her body. She tried to pull away, but he caught her wrists, locking her in place.
“We can’t do this here,” she said, regretting the words as they left her mouth.
His eyebrows rose. “I’m Dawson Knight, and I can do whatever the fuck I want. Get on those pretty little knees, or the stripe will be first.”
Her stomach dropped. She had been doing so well—why did she have to be so stupid?
Never talk back, you idiot.
Reluctantly, she obeyed, trying to focus on the fabric she had been sorting. The sound of his belt distracted her, but she tried to find something to count. That was the easiest method for slipping away, counting things.
The thought of someone walking in made her start to tremble and she couldn’t count. By now, everyone knew about them. She felt the judgmental stares and heard the whispers. But Dawson rarely visited Hyperion. When he did, he barely spoke to her.
The fabric. Think about the fabric. If she couldn’t count, then she could think of the details. The varieties and strength ratings. She clung to the pattern she had studied that morning, trying to recall every stitch placement.
