Chapter Thirty-one: Riddick - The View At The Edge

Mornings, Riddick discovered, were getting harder and harder to cope with.

Waking up had become a profound agony for him. He would turn over in bed, reaching for Jack as he woke, only to touch the cold, empty expanse of the mattress beside him. His body ached from her absence. What it had felt whenever she had actually been beside him, though, was even more dangerous.

I have to stay out of her room, he thought ruefully as he stretched. She'd caught him at it last night, after all. She hadn't been afraid, but the very fact that he couldn't tell her why he was in her room told him just how wrong his actions were.

He dragged himself out of bed, dressed, and started breakfast. Jack emerged from her room, yawning and looking extremely tired, as he was carrying plates from the food prep unit to the table. He watched her with growing concern. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and shadowed, as though she'd barely slept at all.

Was she afraid to go back to sleep? he thought with a stab of self-loathing. Afraid I'd come back?

But why, if that was the case, had she smiled at him and asked him for a goodnight kiss? Was there some other reason she'd slept poorly?

Get real, he ordered himself in disgust. She did not spend the night dreaming about you romancing her, you stupid fuck.

"You okay, kid?" he asked as he sat down across from her. The smile she gave him was sweet, if tired.

"Oh, yeah," she answered. "I just... had some very vivid dreams, last night." Her smile was embarrassed.

He almost asked her what they were, but he stopped himself. They weren't about him; they couldn't be. Ask no question you don't want an honest answer to, he reminded himself. And he did not want to know who she dreamed about; who made her blush like that.

He was glad to see that she was at ease with him, though. Her eyes were as calm and trusting as ever when they met his. Neither of them spoke much through the meal, but the strong connection still felt firmly in place between them.

"Got a load of ship maintenance to do today," he told her. Actually, it was only a few hours' worth, but he figured he'd spend as much time explaining to Jack what he was doing as actually doing it. "You get to hand me tools and take notes."

She chuckled at the last bit. "Is there gonna be a test?"

"There's always a test. Eventually," he answered with a grin. "But I wanna be sure you'll do well on it first."

"Isn't that cheating?" The impish gleam was back in her eyes.

"Nah. The 'test' is Real Life, Darlin'. So we're not gonna let you loose on it without a lot of preparation. Even you are not allowed to break my ship, kid. Don't worry, though. You're one of the fastest learners I've ever seen." He took a long drink out of his glass. "Still, I intend to keep the odds stacked in your favor whenever possible."

She smiled and tried to return the compliment. "They always are when I'm with you."

Not true, he thought sadly. I'm eating away at your odds all the time, just like before. The look in her eyes just before they'd been separated, as she clutched at the wound in her abdomen, still haunted him. He'd cost her her luck back then; he'd almost cost her her life.

Her hand was suddenly resting on his cheek. "What is it?" she asked softly.

"Not always," he sighed heavily. "I seem to remember almost getting your ticket canceled a few years ago."

"No, you didn't." Her voice was gentle and surprisingly firm. "I did. You told me to run away if anyone started shooting, but I ran after you instead. It wasn't your fault."

His hand came up to cover hers where it rested against his face. It was a long time before he let go.

The maintenance went extremely well. Jack listened carefully and watched everything he did, asking intelligent questions. Even with the interruptions they were done before dusk. The ship, which Riddick privately called "Whatsername," was in top shape. Once they refueled the deep space drive, they could leave as soon as they snagged a cargo.

And, of course, as soon as he could be sure Jack would be safe from his animal side during the journey.

And there was the hitch.

Once again, she neither protested nor grumbled when he left the ship and headed for the brothel. He wished that the look in her eyes really had been the wistful longing he wanted to imagine it was.

Briefly he considered stopping at the store for another bottle of perfume, but he decided not to. He wanted an explanation of why the last one had been smashed, and assurances that it wouldn't happen again, before he forked out more of that kind of money.

He felt the tension almost as soon as he entered the brothel. Tonia glanced at him and her eyes swiftly darted around the room in search of Barbour. She did not set a drink or key in front of him when he sat down at the bar.

Barbour was in the midst of a conversation with an elegantly-dressed client, but he broke off and headed toward the bar, a look of grim, nervous determination on his plump face. Riddick's own eyes began to dart around the room, memorizing the layout, the locations of the exits, everything. Something was going down.

Finally the little man was standing in front of him, doing his best to look authoritative. "Mr. Fry, I'm terribly sorry. We have a problem."

Leaning back against the bar in a deceptively relaxed pose, Riddick raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm afraid that we can no longer accept your patronage at this establishment." Barbour's eyes flicked away from him. Following his gaze, Riddick spotted the large security guards standing around the room on alert. They were expecting him to make trouble, he realized.

And he might. "Care to let me in on why?" he growled. Around them, other regular members of the clientele began drifting away. Tension within the room was escalating. He could smell the nerves of the people around him as they started to fray.

"Mr. Fry, last night you broke the rules, badly. Neither 'Carolyn' nor 'Jack' wish to have anything further to do with you, and under the circumstances were are not willing to offer you the services of any of our other ladies in their place."

"Broke what rules?" He was missing something here, but he couldn't think what.

"Mr. Fry, in your negotiations with 'Jack,' you were informed that you could never ever kiss her on the mouth. You did so last night, twice, and ignored her protests."

Realization struck him with the force of a sledgehammer. How fucking stupid could he be? He'd completely forgotten it. How the hell had that happened, usually he was so careful about things like that...

"We had a safe-word," he protested after a moment, feeling adrift.

"She was too upset to remember what it was!"

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. At the top of the wide, curving stairs, two woman were standing, arm in arm. "Carolyn" and "Jack." They watched him intently, both wearing expressions that told him exactly how unwelcome he was. On "Carolyn's" face scorn and disgust greeted him. "Jack's" expression was one of pure hatred.

No, he was no longer welcome here. He never would be again.

He rose slowly to his feet. Around him the security guards tensed, shifting their positions slightly.

I could take them, an idle part of his mind commented. All of them...

But what the fuck for? He was the one who had screwed up here, not them. The illusion was already shattered. Why should he fight to keep its shards?

You're going out of control, he told himself. If you needed proof of it, this is definitely it. You stupid fuck. Cut your losses and go.

"I understand," he told Barbour after a moment. "Please give both ladies my apologies."

He stepped around the small man and headed back out of the brothel. He walked for several blocks before he realized that he was heading back to the ship.

Just what the fuck happened? he wondered. Am I losing my grip on reality that badly? How did I forget the "no kissing" rule?

Perhaps, he reflected, it was the fact that he'd spent the last few weeks having to forcibly restrain himself from kissing the real Jack on the lips. Every moment he was near her it felt as if his mouth was being inexorably drawn to hers. It had seemed, suddenly, like that was one of the things he needed to engage in when he was with her surrogate. Anything he couldn't do to the real Jack...

He'd fucked up royally.

I'm going to have to come clean, he realized. She has to know what's going on in my head. She needs to be warned. Especially if I can't cut loose anymore...

The ship, when he entered, was completely dark and silent. He was a little surprised, actually; he'd hoped that Jack wouldn't go out at night any more.

Why shouldn't she? he scolded himself. She's a legal adult. Why the hell does she have to stay home while you're out tomcatting?

Still, he couldn't help wishing she was there.

Maybe she just went to sleep early again, he consoled himself.

With that notion in mind, he made as little noise as possible as he moved through the ship. Upstairs, the only illumination in the living quarters came from the small telltales in the cockpit.

Funny how Jack hadn't come to fear the darkness after all that had happened. She'd had her share of nightmares, of course, after they'd left the planet, but when he'd questioned her about them he'd found that they were always about others in the group dying, about her helplessness to save them. The dreams that upset her most of all, he'd discovered, the ones that catapulted her screaming out of bed, were the ones in which he died.

But she never feared the darkness. In fact, she seemed to love it. "That's where you are," she'd told him the one time he'd asked.

But it was the darkness within him that posed a threat to her now.

As they had for several nights, his feet took him to her door. It was slightly ajar, and as he approached silently he could hear her soft, deep breathing within.

She's home, he thought, more pleased than he had any right to be. Gently, soundlessly, he pushed the door open and stepped into her room.

He froze, rooted to the spot, as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing before him.

Jack was lying on top of her bed, over the covers, on her back. Her eyes were closed and her legs were spread slightly. She had nothing on. As he watched in astonishment, her hands moved slowly, sensuously across her body, gliding over her thighs, abdomen and breasts...

The animal within him came awake in the instant.

She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat as she touched herself. One hand slid down between her legs and he watched, enrapt as she spread herself open with her fingers, stroking them over her most sensitive flesh. His own fingers twitched, and he could swear he felt the soft warmth of her flesh, the slick smoothness beneath his fingertips...

Oh god, he thought, aware that coherence was already fleeing him.

Take her, the beast within growled softly. She's ready for you.

Oh god, no. He was trapped where he stood, his urges to move forward and to flee at war with each other. Before him, Jack moaned softly, her free hand travelinng up to her throat. Slowly,as he watched, she penetrated herself with two fingers. He could see exactly how wet she was, how open...

You can have her, the animal insisted. She's begging for it.

He wanted to cover her with his body, to run his hands over her the way her one hand was moving now. He wanted to taste her skin, every inch of it, to fondle those lovely breasts. He wanted to be responsible for every little moan and gasp she made. He wanted to drink from between her legs while she writhed. He wanted to plunge into her and come deep inside her body...

You can, the beast told him as he stared down at her. You can do it all. Right now. Take her.

He clenched his hands into fists, feeling the sweat prickling on his forehead. His erection was throbbing painfully, in time with her breathing. No! She doesn't know I'm here...

The darkness, he realized, was absolute for her, hiding him completely. Yes, this time, he really was within the darkness she trusted so much.

And she won't realize until it's too late. You can be inside her before she even knows you're in the room. Do it. Take her.

For a moment he saw himself doing it, falling upon her and grabbing her hand, pulling her fingers out of her and drawing them into his mouth even as he thrust into her--

Yes, the animal exulted. Do it! Do it now!

She moaned again. The scent of her body was overwhelming, making his mouth water and his breath quicken.

His mind was full of chaos.

TAKE HER!

When he moved he was swift and soundless. Out the door and down the ladder without a noise. He raced through the cargo bay and down the ramp before he collapsed, dropping to his hands and knees on the tarmac. He was shaking uncontrollably.

It should be raining, he thought disjointedly. The ground was dry beneath him and that felt wrong. He'd been soaked in blood and water the last time he felt such inner annihilation.

He gasped and shook for what felt like ages before his self control began to reassert itself. He turned and looked back at the ship, deceptively calm behind him. He knew how great a deception that quietude was.

This can't continue, he thought, feeling the first stirrings of real fear. If that happens again, I won't be able to stop myself. I barely managed to tonight.

He buried his face in his hands, despairing. Oh god, Jack, I don't know what to do now. Will I ever see you again once you know what the beast in me wants from you?

He didn't dare re-enter the ship until the first blushes of dawn appeared in the sky

Moments after Riddick had fled into the night, a small sound drifted through the almost-deserted ship. Even with his preternaturally acute hearing, Riddick was too far away to hear it. He might not have believed it even if he had been in range, thinking that it was a trick, a ploy of the beast within. It was a woman's whispered voice, breathy with the throes of orgasm.

"Oh god... Riddick..."