Page 87 of Rescued By the Convicts
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To Melina’s surprise,the guards led her to her unfinished house.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “You’re taking me home. Why?”
“We were told to escort you here,” the first guard said.
Fear shot through her. “Are they shipping my unit mates back to Veenith? Is that why I’m here, so I won’t interfere?”
The second guard, a man she’d treated for a deep cut a few weeks back, said, “Not that I’m aware, Doc. We were told you were confined to your home until further notice.”
Melina ran her tatt over the access plate. As soon as the gate opened for her, she slipped inside, leaving the guards outside. She felt safe, but confused. She had no way to find out what was going on, not until the guards let her leave or someone came for her.
The nearly finished home before her suddenly seemed incredibly empty without any of her guys around. A very real fear moved through her, practically paralyzing her. What if Foley was sending Jayce, Ivan, and Reece back to Veenith? No, she couldn’t think that way. Whatever was going on, she knew in her heart they were meant to be together.
Rain started coming down, pounding the ground with enough noise to drown out a kuvak’s growl. As a tropical planet, sudden storms that resulted in sheets of rain pounding the area was the norm. It was the reason the men had built the house on stilts.
Melina raced inside the house and slammed the door shut, thankful the men had finished the roof two days ago. The place remained void of furniture, but Jayce said he already had an order in for several beds and cookware. Right now, their clothing remained neatly stacked on the kitchen counter and bedrolls lay side by side on the floor. The true luxury was having clean water from the water treatment plant and a working bathroom with a shower.
As Melina sifted through the clothing piled on the counter, a pair of warm lips kissed the barcode on the back of her neck. She stilled as the man’s hands ran down her bare arms. She had to be dreaming. She knew that touch so well.
“Tell me I’m not dreaming. That you’re really here, Zev.”
“I’m here, Mel.”
Strong hands turned her to face him, then brushed her hair back, two fingers moving down her throat, his fingers brushing her skin slowly, intimately, as he moved lower. He unbuttoned the top of her shirt and traced her skin around where the essence stone hung between her breasts.
“You’re still wearing it. After all these months.”
“It’s all I had left of you.”
“I didn’t want to leave. I hope you know that, despite everything I said.”
“I did. But you spoke as if you didn’t want to be here.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to return. I didn’t want to fill you with false hope. I wanted you to be happy.”
“I am happy, Zev, but it’s not the same without you.” She peered out the window. The guards that had escorted her here had left. “I don’t understand why you’re here. Are you a prisoner now?” she asked, both afraid and eager to hear the answer. She didn’t want him to leave again, but the thought that Zev had done something illegal to ensure he’d be interred here with them didn’t feel right either.
“I’m here briefly.”
“Your work?”
“We’re taking down Namir’s organization, but there are pockets of resistance.”
“Tristen and Patel,” she said. Her other husbands had been involved in Namir’s business, though they’d never shared what they did with her. They’d been emotionally distant and abusive, and she prayed she’d never see them again.
“Yes.”
“I tried to get your status changed to Level 4, but no one would budge. Narkos was the best I could arrange, Mel. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said, allowing herself to touch him for the first time. He had a bit of a scruff to him, giving him a roguish look she enjoyed, and his hair had grown longer too. She traced over a new scar along his collarbone and frowned.
“There are hazards,” he answered her unspoken question.
“You don’t have anyone for backup, do you?”
“Not always.”
