Page 29 of Protected By the Convicts
“My job is to save them, all of them, no matter the cause. I didn’t do my job.”
“You can’t blame yourself.”
“Then who do I blame? Ky’Li for not getting all the men out even though that wasn’t his job? Ren for not ensuring the structures were strong enough to handle explosives? Or Sersie because more than likely whatever explosive was used had origins in his labs, even if he or his team weren’t involved. Thefts in that building have been a problem for a while which would make it a security issue, except security doesn’t get blamed around here. Prisoners do.
“Or maybe I should blame Dresden for the fucking conditions in this colony that cause men to be so mad that they feel the need to set an explosion and bring down a mountain on a bunch of bastards who don’t want to be here anymore than they do.
Vaughn suddenly rose from the bed. He sank his fingers in her hair and gripped her at the back of her head, harder than she would have expected from him. “Or maybe I should blame you, Hannah.”
“Me?”
“For constantly being in my thoughts. Distracting me when I’m supposed to be focused on saving men’s lives. Consuming every thought of how I can get you to notice me for who I am inside. Not as the doctor who was nearby and convenient when you needed to save Ky’Li, but me, Vaughn Caster, a man who used to work at Hollis Med-Center in Mercantile City on Argus, the man who’d kept his nose clean his entire life until his fucking twin impersonated him and stole medicine from the med-center and got him arrested, designated level 4, and shipped off to a prison planet. A man who worked hard his entire life to save and help people, including his own damn brother who didn’t deserve it after what he’d done. The man who always tried to do right and always seems to get screwed in the process.”
He’d shared his history with her before. His issues with his twin who used Vaughn and his family who never cared about either boy plagued Vaughn. It’s why Vaughn had chosen to be a solitary on Narkos for all those years. He didn’t see the worth of a unit, but Vaughn was lonely. She sensed it was the only reason he’d been trying to integrate into their unit, trying to make it work.
“Have you told Ren about Vance?”
“No. Why would I?
“Perhaps it would help patch things between you two. Ren thinks you were sent here for stealing from the med-center you worked at on Argus. He thinks you have a history of selling people out.”
“I’ve never betrayed anyone before, and it wasn’t until I was sent here that I started stealing from The Company.”
“You’re not stealing from them. Not exactly. You’re helping the miners who can’t afford treatment.”
“Still stealing. I’ve earned Level 4 designation at this point, even though they pushed me to it.”
“That’s not the same, Vaughn.”
“Doesn’t matter now. And I don’t care what Ren or the others think of me, but I care what you think, Hannah.”
“Still, you should tell them.”
“I don’t want or need pity, least of all yours. But I want you, Hannah, and I mean more than your body as part of some legal right that being in this unit gives me. I want you to notice and love me for who I am.”
* * *
VAUGHN
Å few weeks ago, Vaughn had told Hannah about Vance. Against all reason, Vaughn had always held onto the hope that Vance would step forward and confess to The Company, and clear Vaughn’s name. Instead, shortly after The Company sent Vaughn to Narkos, Vance got himself killed in one of his schemes.
Vaughn had never been able to trust anyone after Vance’s betrayal, so he knew exactly how Ren felt, probably the entire unit. He betrayed all of them when he destroyed Ren’s ship. None of them would trust him again, even Hannah who smiled so sweetly at him as if all was forgiven. Even if she truly had forgiven him, it wouldn’t last. Not when he told her the rest, what he’d become on Narkos.
Hannah cupped his cheek. “I already love you for who you are.”
Her words seeped into his skin, his bones, every part of his being, making it hard to breathe at first, and then harder to move. Even as her hand sifted through his hair and then came down slowly skating over his beard, tempting him to take her in his arms and show her just what she meant to him, he stood there unmoving, like a statue.
“Why are you punishing yourself?” she asked.
Because I deserve it.
The image of Ferguson with his eyes open and burns on eight percent of his body struck Vaughn again for the hundredth time today. Why couldn’t the man have shut his eyes before dying? He’d stared up at Vaughn, begging him for relief. Vaughn hadn’t even given the man a single nanite as it would have been a waste. There was simply too much damage to the man’s internal organs, too many burns everywhere. If Vaughn had had access to forty nanites, then perhaps the miner would have lived, but there were other miners in critical condition and Vaughn only had twenty nanites in stock. He’d given Ferguson a fatal dose of arivna, to end his suffering.
A soft pairof lip pressed against Vaughn’s mouth, snapping him out of his memory. His hand searched for her, found her shoulder, her arm. Fine, delicate, perfect skin moved under his hand as she stepped back. Her brows pinched and the sense of loneliness that had disappeared for those wonderous few seconds returned.
“You don’t think you’re worth much do you, Vaughn?”
“I’m top tier for credits. One of only four doctors, which makes me valuable enough to Dresden.”
