Marked
Chapter 50

She walked until she reached the edge of the ship and turned to lean against a cool, metal railing.

Behind her, poles stretched into the night sky—one of them held the United States flag, flapping gently in the breeze, its red, white, and blue colors made to look dull under the moonlight while a string of music floated down to her from the ballroom.

She turned to face the ocean where a thin mist touched her cheeks. The air smelled sweet, not like mountain air, different, but still somehow just as fresh. Black waves churned below, slapping the hull of the ship gently.

Yet all this calm disturbed her.

Any time Rachel stopped to think, all she could see was the poacher she’d killed back in the capital. That was the thing about trauma--it would hit you unexpectedly, like a punch to the gut.

She’d put up walls around her guilt and grief, walls she knew she couldn’t contain forever but hoped would last longer than this. But now the foundation shook and wobbled with each churn of the sea.

She would welcome a fight every day of her life if it meant it would keep her busy enough to forget. Every silent moment was loud, filled with the sound the bullet made as it left her gun, followed by the wet sound of blood, and the thud of a body.

Rachel didn’t think there was anything worse than watching life slowly leave a person’s eyes. She still remembered their color...blue, like a morning sky.

Rachel pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and sighed. It was probably time to go back inside--not to the party but to the quiet solitude of her room.

But Hector...she had to replace him and know if his sisters had been found. If they hadn’t...he would need someone.

Just as she had made up her mind to leave she heard footsteps behind her.

“I knew I’d replace you here,” Hector said, coming to stand next to her, the warmth of his body a comfort. He leaned against the railing, black hair tossing in the wind, hands clasped in from of him.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“I think...I think nature brings you peace,” He replied. Rachel studied him. She knew he was observant but each time he picked up on one of her quirks, it made warmth spread across her chest.

Hector stood close enough that she could see a small scar stretching from his ear, almost down to his chin but somehow it didn’t make him look bad. She wondered which fight, which battle had given him this scar, and had to fight the physical urge to touch it.

“It helps me focus. Everywhere I look I see how wretched humans are but not this,” She gestured out toward the ocean. “Nature is still, for the most part, untouched by our evil. That’s why I like it.”

“I see,” He replied. He stretched out a hand to her which she took. He pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her from behind, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

They stood that way for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts, gazing at the ocean. The warmth radiating from his body was enough to chase away some of the cold inside her, and despite her anxiety, she found herself feeling more at ease.

“Are your sisters here?” She asked gently.

“Yes.” She could hear both the relief and the smile in his voice as she stroked circles onto his forearm with her fingertip. “They’re both okay, just shaken up. Looks like things are finally starting to look up for us.”

“Hector, I...” she stuttered. “I’m so happy for you. Your family deserves this happiness. You deserve this happiness.”

He spun her around to face him. “I heard what you said to your mom—about Jed. I’m so sorry, Rachel.”

She nodded, rapidly blinking back the tears. “I knew he was dead but I think I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I’m okay. It’s a relief to know what happened to him and to know that at the very least, he can no longer be hurt.”

Hector brushed back a few strands of hair that the breeze had glued to her forehead and cheeks.

“You did everything you could for him.”

“I know,” she whispered.

She gazed out at the moon rising out of black waters, bathing the world in silver light.

It was quiet, save for the sound of the wind and the muted music from the party.

“Is something else wrong?” He asked, thumb idly stroking her cheek.

“It’s just— “She took in a deep breath and turned to look at the sky, her own inner battle raging in her eyes like the waves below. “Nicolas is my father.”

She expected him to be surprised or look at her differently, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“I know,” he said.

“What? How?”

“Ruth told me. She hunted me down after she found out I was here and asked me all sorts of questions—she’s not very nice, is she?”

“No,” Rachel shook her head.

“When she found out I wanted to go on the mission to the capital, a few questions turned into a full-on interrogation. I told her I wanted to go because I cared about you and she went off on me, told me I’d never be good enough for you— ”

“She doesn’t get to decide that.” Rachel hissed. “What matters is what I think of you.”

“I know, don’t worry, I didn’t take anything she said seriously. I figured it was just the desperation talking--anyway, she’s the reason I knew where to look for you in the capital. She told me Nicolas was your father and that he loved you too much to hurt you, so I figured if you were going to be anywhere, it was going to be with him.”

“Nicolas told me my mom’s some type of evil scientist and that together they created the Mark. What am I supposed to do with that information? What if I turn out to be crazy like them, what if—”

“Hey, stop that. Who your parents are doesn’t define you.” He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “You’re nothing like them. You’re kind and warm, and I’m not even sure you would hurt a fly.” She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat.

What would he think of her if he knew she’d killed someone?

“I just don’t know...how to go back to normal after this.”

“Then you replace a new normal. You make the conscious choice, every day, to be happy. That’s the one thing they can’t take away from us, the only way we win.”

“You’re right,” she sniffled. “You’re right, I need to stop and just be thankful that we’re here safe... at least for now.” His hands left her face to rest on her shoulders. She looked up into his brown eyes, so earnest and kind. “Is there ever a time when you don’t know what to say?”

“Nope,” He winked.

She laughed and leaned her head against his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe her.

“We don’t have to go back to the party if you’re not up for it.” He said a few moments later as he rubbed her back. “I can walk you back to your room.”

“Yes,” she said, voice muffled by the fabric of his coat.

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached her cabin, only taking one wrong turn. All things considered that was pretty good. The network of ships was massive and confusing, and she was sure without him it would have taken her much longer.

Hector pushed the door open for her and ventured first down the three small steps into the darkened room.

He reached a hand up to her to steady her as she descended.

“You know, this place isn’t half bad--” Her bandaged foot slipped, and she tipped forward, but Hector moved fast and caught her against his chest. His back thudded against the wall, absorbing the impact, and gently, he set her back down on the ground.

She looked up at him, his face a dark shadow--where was that damn light switch? -and shot him an apologetic smile.

“You really have to stop doing that,” She teased.

“Doing what?” He hadn’t released her yet, his arms curved around her body.

“Saving me all the time. I’m starting to feel like a damsel in distress.”

“A damsel in distress? Never. But everyone could use a little saving sometimes. Besides,” He pursed his lips. “It’s kind of what we do—I go on crazy rampages to the city to keep you alive and you jump in front of bullets for me.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess being reckless is sort of our thing.”

“I wouldn’t want to be this reckless with anybody else.” He muttered, one handing going up to brush strands of hair behind her ear.

I’ve always loved your hair...

Rachel looked up at him and saw that his eyes were shuttered as he studied her. She felt the change in his body as it relaxed against hers, though the arm clutching her to him only tightened.

Rachel’s lips parted as those brown eyes continued to sweep her face, a caress in and of itself.

Possessed by a moment of unusual bravery, she pushed up on her good toes and pressed her lips to his. Hector made a small sound, halfway between a groan and a sigh.

“Tell me something,” He whispered when she pulled back. “Did you mean what you said back at the capital?”

“Mean what?”

“What you said to that poacher. That I was yours.”

Rachels’ heart thudded in her chest.

His knuckles dragged across her cheek, like electricity on her skin.

She looked down, eyelids shuttering the truth while she fought to replace words. Her hands slid from his chest up to his shoulders, finally resting against his neck where his heart beat wildly.

She could feel the small tremors running through his body at her touch.

“I...I meant it,” She admitted into the darkness of the room. Her voice wobbled. “Of course, I meant it but only if...only if you want to--”

Her breath rushed out of her in a gasp as his arms circled her and he lifted her off her feet. Her hands wrapped around his neck just as he clamped his mouth over hers, stopping her declaration, her breath, and her heart with one burning kiss.

Blood rushed in her ears. His mouth was hot and open over hers; she parted her lips, allowing his tongue to sweep inside, to caress and explore. She pressed against him, breasts suddenly heavy and pebbled against his chest.

She breathed in the soft groan he made when her fingers went up and under his shirt, digging into his skin, across the flat planes of his chest, wanting more.

He moved them both so that her back was now against the wall, one of his palms braced beside her head, his mouth and hand frantic.

This was so different from his usual gentle kisses, always so careful, so soft. But at that moment, she realized this was exactly what she needed. And he always gave her what she needed. She didn’t want gentle, she wanted to know that he was real, kiss him like it was the last time she’d ever kiss him, just in case they were captured by the capital tomorrow.

His hands gripped her waist as he gently guided them to the carpeted floor, right then and there, in the middle of a narrow hallway. His entire presence engulfed her so that there was nothing else but Hector and the way he smelled like soap and mints, of his fingers sliding down to her hips and his mouth moving to her jaw, down to the hollow at the base of her throat.

Rachel moaned, unable to help herself. His fingers dug into her hips, his body pressed along the length of hers, as her hands began to wander, up along the hard biceps that kept most of his weight off her.

He was beautiful. Not just his body, but him, his heart, his soul, the very essence of him.

The corner of his shirt was bunched up and her hands were under it, against his flushed skin—he shifted, and her fingers grazed his stomach, eliciting a soft sigh that traveled from his lips to hers.

He pulled away to look at her, his expression dizzy, and unfocused.

“Rachel,” He breathed. “My Rachel. You’re so damn beautiful.”

Rachel’s heavy eyelids drew open to look at his face. He looked completely at a loss as if the air had been punched out of him, hair tangled from where she’d run her fingers through it, lips parted and slightly wet from their kissing.

“You have no idea...no idea what your touch does to me.”

Wanting to see exactly what her touch did to him, her hands stroked up along his ribs, over the smooth, powerful muscles of his back. Hector shivered, his head falling to the crook of her neck, breath hot against her skin.

One of her legs was wedged between his, his hips against hers, the unmistakable hardness between them making the back of her throat go dry.

Hector forged a path of soft kisses across her neck, her collarbone, lower still as one hand tugged down her shirt, lips kissing every inch of skin that became exposed.

Rachel gasped when his mouth kissed each swell of her breasts, a startling and sudden desire ripping through her.

“When I first came to the ship...and thought you were dead,” He breathed into her chest. He abandoned the top of her blouse, his hand going up and under it instead.

Hector shifted lower, palm grazing her side, his mouth kissing every place his hand had just been. Her belly sucked in when his mouth kissed her there, heart pounding into the ribs he too kissed gently.

“All I could think about...is that I didn’t kiss you enough.”

He moved back up, hovering over her. “Now I’ll never stop. I’ll never stop kissing you, mi rosa linda.”

True to his words, his mouth landed on hers, urgent and hot.

One hand traced the curves of her body, up along her thigh, the outer swell of one hip, her waist, fingers curling and digging into her skin as they kissed and kissed.

Rachel wondered if it was possible to burst from emotion, from want.

His hand skimmed her throat, then went to tangle in her hair, brushed her neck, and froze. Every muscle in his body tensed up and she pulled back, wondering if she’d done something wrong. Rachel’s eyes flung open as if she’d had a bucket of cold water suddenly dumped on her.

“Did I— ” He sat up, bringing her with him, careful of her injured foot. He tilted her chin, exposing her neck, and moved her hair out of the way, holding it up with one hand while he ran a fingertip over the back of her neck.

She flinched when his hand caused something to shift within her flesh.

“What is it, Hector? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a chip here—God, Rachel, Nicolas put a tracking chip in you. He knows where we are.”

End Part 1

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A/N Well there you have it my loves! What did you think? Do you hate me for that cliffhanger? Tell me below in the comments!

Stay tuned for Part 2, coming soon!