US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

4 4 - S P A C E B O U N D

The sound of a jet engine is first thing I notice when I pick my pick up from the seat I've been strapped in. This vessel is practically identical to the one we took to get to Earth, only everything glows magenta.

A weird sense of deja vu clings to me, but I shake it off and rub away at my eyes for a clearer image of my surroundings.

Xena is on the far side at the controls, though it appears she has autopilot on. She isn't touching any buttons or even looking at the screens in front of her. She has her arms and legs crossed and she stares at her feet as she jerkily shifts from side to side. Zeriah is sitting near her on the floor, facing the opposite direction, his face visible to me. He's slumped and weaving his hands through his golden hair, silent.

I check my left and right, but the other two have yet to wake. Brink is two seats down on my left, Stella on my right with just one empty spot between us. All of us are buckled. We're meant to be kept safe.

I unlatch myself as slowly as possible to prevent all sound, and slink my way over to a spot next to Brink. I've never seen him asleep before. His neck is at a funny crooked angle, but otherwise he just looks asleep. No harm. Good.

I lift his head and set it on my shoulder for a better position, but this causes him to stir. Brink groans quietly and wiggles around before he slides his eyelids open and meets my gaze. When he smiles at me, his blue eyes are so warm and cozy that my stomach flutters and I find myself doing the same in return, despite the circumstances. We're trapped in a spaceship on our way to be handed to one of the most horrible person existing in the universe, and yet, we're both here, together. Alive.

I lean forward and meet my lips with his so easily. He tries to reach out and place his hand along my face, but his restraints stop him, and he chuckles softly to himself before undoing them.

Once he's freed, he falls to the back of his seat and looks to the ceiling and sighs. Our commotion brings Zeriah's eyes this way, but he says nothing.

"My neck feels broken," Brink whispers to me.

"Need a quick massage?" I ask with a grin.

He gives me a smirk that would make me sink to my knees if I'd been standing.

"I can't deny that," he admits. "But it's alright." He shifts around before setting his hand on my thigh and settling. "Whatever happens," he starts, "happens. But I want you to know you can trust me. One hundred percent. Every word I say, every action I do or don't, isn't a surrender, okay? I would never stop fighting for this." He glances at his hand and I lean against him. Emotions from every corner of my brain surface, but I do my best to keep them at bay to maintain composure. I need to stay strong.

"Okay," I tell him. "I trust you."

Brink's hand glides up my body, from my leg to my hip to my chest and stops at my neck. He tugs me inward and kisses me again, his passion stronger, his timing perfect. He's measured and slow, but not sloppy. When I feel the slip of his tongue, I mimic the action and shiver down below. I want so much more of this, of him, but realize we have an audience. I can't bring myself to anything more with eyes watching us.

When we pull apart, it's a gradual drawback, followed by some huffing and puffing.

"Damn," Brink sighs, out of breath. "I really like you," he jokes.

"I really like you, too," I giggle.

"I want to teach you something," he says, causing my mind to halt. Was I a bad kisser?

"GPS. For each of us. You said you don't know how to access that, right?"

I nod, a little relieved he isn't going to give me tips on lesser matters.