Title: Bank Run
Series: Expanding Horizon, Book Two
Author: Alli Reshi
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 2, 2018
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 19400
Genre: Science Fiction, LGBT, science fiction, disability/PTSD/post-traumatic stress, military, hurt/comfort, interracial/intercultural, crime, HFN
Synopsis
Mark Noland doesn’t know how he always
ends up in these situations. All he wants is a few quiet days on Rescon with
his new boyfriend Gavnson. But he’s just finished a job, and the rest of his
team wants their pay.
A simple trip to the bank shouldn’t be
much trouble, and then it’s back to peace and quiet. What could possibly go
wrong? The answer to this is apparently robbery, kidnapping, and a foot chase
across town. A run to the bank takes on a whole new meaning when you also have
to thwart the bad guys.
A simple crime unravels to something
much more. Amidst the chaos, Mark and Gavnson not only end up with new friends,
but a renewed focus on Gavnson’s ongoing PTSD issues—once they finally have a
moment to themselves.
*Bank Run is the second installment in
the Expanding Horizons series and is best read after book one, Oops, Caught.
Excerpt
Bank Run
Alli Reshi © 2018
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
Fire and metal shrapnel rained down,
pinging off the roof of my small fighter ship.
“Everian Gavnson— The second Squadron is
surrounded by the enemy. They are also advancing against the third. What are
your orders?” Caspian Dal’s voice came crackling over the damaged coms line.
“Fourth squadron— Provide support for
the second. Come in from the enemy’s right, and you can break up that dogfight.
My men with me. We’re going to come in from the low left across the gorge. We
can bottleneck the enemy there and stop their advance,” I called the orders
across the channels.
A resounding “Yes, sir!” was the answer
as the other fighter ships split off in their new assignments.
I angled my ship across the sky, leading
the first squadron toward the swarm of ships. Blue mixed with white, though the
blue was slowly overtaking the other. The infiltration of Zux pilots was taking
its toll on my men. The battle for Rescon had already cost us so much. Our
objective was to stop them in the skies so they couldn’t get to Rescon’s
surface. Swooping under the belly of a few blue Zux ships, I opened fire on
them, ripping through the metal and breezing by the ships as they crashed. The
added forces were pushing back the opposition.
“Sir, your six!” the warning whined on
the line. Reacting before glancing over, I angled my ship away from the
oncoming attack. When I did look, I realized no amount of quick maneuvering
would save me. A ship from higher up had collided with those below it, dragging
and catching them as the tangled mess of metal fell from directly above me
toward my ship.
Pushing the thrusters hard, I moved as
far away from the trajectory as I could. I wouldn’t clear the area in time, but
if I could minimize the damage, I could make an emergency landing. The wreckage
struck the side of my ship, tearing the wing clean off. One of the engines
ignited in the impact. Fire spread across the windshield. All I could see was
fire. The fire. Fire everywhere—burning, trapping, killing.
I bolted awake, off-balance, and
confined. I fought against the restraint, pushing and tugging until I felt cold
air against my skin. Then, something was on my shoulder holding me. Pushing me
back. I lashed out an arm against it.
“Gav, Gav hold still. Calm down. You’re
all right; breathe, Gav. Can you hear me?” a voice said. Mark’s voice. The
initial panic slowly faded from my mind. It was Mark’s hand on my shoulder. The
sheets from my bed were tangled around my legs. Taking a deep breath, I reached
a hand to Mark’s, suddenly realizing how shaky my own was against his steady
one.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said, clearing my
throat.
“You sure? You’re trembling. Was it that
dream again? You wanna talk about it?” Mark asked, leaning toward me. I
shrugged off his hand, pulling away.
“No. Everything is all right, Mark. I’m
going to take a shower. You can go back to sleep now.” I pushed off the
blankets and forced myself to walk steadily to the adjoining bathroom.
After locking the door behind me, I
turned on the shower and sat on the tile floor in the far corner of the room,
my back against the wall. Curling in on myself, I was no longer able to fight
the shaking of my body. My vision blurred, and I couldn’t focus on any one
thing around me. All my senses screamed that everything was too much, too loud,
too everything. Hopefully, the sound of the water muffled any sobs that
escaped. My chest hurt from phantom pains and how hard it was to breathe. It
was as though my lungs had forgotten how to, or not wanting to, would rather
stop and close in on themselves.
Worst of all, I could feel the fire
burning on my arm, searing through flesh. The cold wall behind me did little to
help. The war was over, yet I couldn’t escape it, dogged by fire and failure in
my sleep.
I don’t know how long it was before I
could focus again and the shivers stopped. The burning on my arm had lost
intensity, fading rapidly as I focused on taking deep gulping breaths, even
though it stung. Mark hadn’t come knocking at the door, so it couldn’t have
been that long.
Stripping off my sweat-dampened clothes,
I finally stepped under the freezing spray of water. I found that I much
preferred cold showers after the war and the hospital. I also refused to own
another sponge of any sort, throwing them and any kind of liquid soap out in
favor of bars and rough towels if necessary.
It had been about a month since Mark and
I had agreed to start this relationship. Even with the time we spent apart for
our respective careers, it was working out well. Better than I could have
hoped. My off-planet missions were few, as I preferred to stay close to home.
There was more than enough to keep me busy here with Stella Corps, while Mark
chose any jobs across the quadrant that caught his fancy. Being that Mark’s
starship was his home, when he wasn’t out on a job, he spent most of his time
with me at my home. His team didn’t seem to mind the extra time spent on Rescon
either.
Having Mark with me was a welcome change
from the silence that permeated the building without him to fill it with
laughter and conversation, however it didn’t stop the nightmares. I always felt
guilty for waking him; it was unfair to him after all the help he gave me.
Especially on nights like last night when he came in late, tired from a job,
and well-deserving of some rest. He didn’t need me waking him up over something
I should have long gotten over. In truth, I had been lucky; I knew that.
I had come home when so many hadn’t. I
only had scars where so many had lost limbs. It was pathetic to still be
holding onto fears when the danger had long passed.
I quickly finished my shower and turned
off the water, not wanting Mark to worry and come investigating.
Drying off, I glanced at my reflection
in the mirror. Dark hair plastered against my forehead. A once perfect
complexion was now littered with appalling scars. Thankfully, the ones on my
face were hardly noticeable if you didn’t know to look. The rest of me had not
been as fortunate.
The burn marks were far more distinct
over my left side. Trailing from my neck to almost my hip in patchy grooves,
they also took up most of my arm and spread across my chest. I turned away from
the mirror, tying the towel around my waist.
I should have the mirror removed the
next chance I had—a sentiment I always had after a shower, but never managed to
go through with. It was too easy to indulge in the shame of what my image now
was. In any case, Mark would question it, and that was something I would rather
avoid. I paused at the door, listening for any noise coming from the outer
room.
Hearing nothing meant Mark must have
either left the room or gone back to sleep. I cautiously opened the door, and
the sun’s morning light filtering in through the window showed an empty room.
Faint voices floated in from the direction of the kitchen.
I dressed quickly, worried that Mark
might walk into the room before I was ready. A long-sleeved thin shirt hid the
worst of the scars and simple pants covered the few on my legs. Having not yet
let Mark see all of my scars, I was careful to always be clothed around him.
Mark had said that he wouldn’t mind seeing them, but I was not ready to show
more of myself to him. I still worried about his reaction. After combing my
hair into something respectable, I walked toward the voices, steeling myself to
greet the added guests.
“I’m just saying you don’t even know his
first name, man. I’m not complaining about not having to listen to you talk
about your sex life all’o the time now. But you sure ’bout this, boss?
Relationships ain’t one-night stands—you gotta be serious here. Gotta be able
to trust a person.”
I recognized Ken’s voice without having
to turn the corner and paused in the shadows. I shouldn’t have to eavesdrop in
my own house, yet I wanted to hear the honest conversation that wouldn’t happen
with me there. Wanted to know what his teammates thought of me, though it did
not appear to be a conversation in my favor.
“Dude, are you still harping on this?”
Mark huffed. “Ken, let it go. The name thing is cultural, okay? Lots of
Resconians don’t say it until they’re married. It’s like a super personal
thing, and I can respect that. Stuff like this takes time, you know. Ain’t like
I’m laying all my secrets out on the table either. You gotta build the trust
slowly, and I trust him to tell me when he’s ready.” I could imagine the scowl
he had as he crossed his arms.
Considering that Mark was more given to
casual and informal mannerisms, I had been surprised at how easily he had
adapted when I explained why Resconians only used surnames. It was an old
social norm that revealing a given name was the truest form of trust and love.
It gave me a small thrill to call Mark by his name privately—knowing it was his
preference as well as a sign of his trust. I found it endearing how he mixed
his habit for nicknames yet considered my preference. Still, our relationship
was far too new to tell him my given name, or call him by his while in company.
“I believe what our esteemed mechanic is
trying to say, is that we worry about you. You’re not only our boss; you’re our
friend as well. As a friend, we want you to be in a healthy relationship. Given
your previous lovers, this is a drastic change.” The higher-pitched voice
chiming in told me that Tamaroa was here too.
“I know it’s different,” Mark said, his
voice strained. “It’s weird for me sometimes, too, you know. Coming back to the
same place all the time. And missing him. Lonely is something I’m used to
having an instant fix for, but I can’t do that anymore because Gavnson matters.
I want it to work with him. So, let me figure it out myself and drop it, all
right?”
Knowing he missed me when he was
away—same as I missed him—was an odd comfort. And it was reassuring that he
would defend me, even though I sometimes thought his coworkers might have a
more accurate opinion of me. After a few moments of silence, it was obvious
they had dropped the topic. I might as well greet my guests properly.
Rounding the corner to enter the
kitchen, I saw Ken and Tamaroa at the table, while Mark was standing by the
stove, making something in a pan. Rescon had more than its fair share of
interspecies travelers. But that still didn’t take away the strangeness of
having others at my table.
I was so often alone in this room that
the brightness of the fox’s dark blue fur and the woman’s rich orange skin
would take some getting used to.
“You didn’t tell me your team would be
visiting this morning, Noland,” I said, not wanting to sound accusing, but a
warning would have been nice.
“Sorry, I didn’t know either, and some
people don’t know what manners are. So, they invite themselves anywhere.” Mark
sighed and gave Ken a pointed look. He momentarily abandoned breakfast to come
to my side and give me a hug. His warmth was a welcome balm to my unsettled
nerves. “Are you feeling better now? Is it okay for them to be here? I can kick
them out if you want, no problem,” Mark whispered and then kissed my cheek.
He had no concern with showing affection
any time he wanted. For the most part, I liked the attention too much to scold
him for it when there were others around.
“No, it’s fine; I don’t mind,” I said
quietly, giving him a one-armed hug in return before letting him go back to the
stove. “It’s a pleasure to see you as always, Tamaroa, Ken.” I greeted the two
as I sat at the table across from them so I could watch Mark.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” Tamaroa
responded, brushing back her hair, a dark red against her skin. “Ken can be
quite demanding when he wants something. Mark never said, but how did
everything turn out on your end with our last joint effort? Was there any
information missing?” It was easy to forget that Mark’s well-spoken navigator
was also a highly trained assassin.
“No, you both did admirably,” I said.
“As far as our technicians have found, nothing was leaked and all the files
were still intact. Thanks to all your efforts, you prevented the potential
exposure of a number of secret operatives.” I had assumed Mark would have told
them about the successful conclusion of our mission long ago, but this at least
gave me the chance to thank them in person.
“I imagine Stella would have just as
many enemies as allies, and any information about your movements could go for a
high price.” Tamaroa’s tone was far too light for a matter that could have been
life or death to many officers. Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t expect
differently from a woman in her profession.
“Unfortunately, yes,” I said. “Since
Mark is always very vague about his work, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to
make a few things clearer?” I could feel Mark’s eyes on me, and even though
we’d both agreed that sometimes there were parts of our jobs we couldn’t talk
about, it didn’t always stop professional curiosity. Tamaroa’s only response
was a small smile that said I would not be getting any answers from her.
“All right, enough chitchat,” Ken
huffed, his tail thumping against the leg of his chair. “I want Mr. Domestic
over there to hand over our share of the pay from the last job. I ain’t looking
to spend the day with no Stella officer in a stuffy house. Just ’cause you’ve
turned sweet on the military sort, don’t mean I have. I got shit to do.” Ken
had not warmed up to me nearly as much as Tamaroa had. Mark reassured me this
was friendlier than Ken got with most.
“Hey, that Stella officer is my
boyfriend, and I like his company. So, shut your muzzle. Besides, we just got
here, and I’m sorry, but some of us like to sleep. Banks don’t even open until,
like, nine anyways—so hold your tail.” Mark slid what was in the pan onto a
waiting plate. Ah, he was making those fluffy flat breads he called pancakes.
Terran food was odd.
I don’t think I had seen him cook
anything that didn’t require some breed of fowl eggs. And he was always
complaining they weren’t the same as chicken eggs, whatever those were. Mark
had tried to describe chickens to me once, and for as much as I recognized that
fauna was different across the galaxy, small flightless birds were not
something I could easily conceptualize.
I knew that some planets domesticated
their fowl, but the fear of them had been ingrained in me since childhood. It
wasn’t an ungrounded fear, as the Ioxerous birds were as large as the average
man and viciously carnivorous. They were the smallest breed of bird on Rescon.
Thankfully, the mountains were the only place you would find them. These
differences had led Mark and me to a have a few circular discussions about the
merits of domestication of fowl.
Mark insisted on cooking, going so far
as to favor old-fashioned methods of manually making the food, instead of
letting the automatic kitchen equipment prepare the dishes for him. I had no
love for cooking, so I left him to his strange cuisine.
“Oh, I’m sure you and pretty boy did
plenty of sleeping. Then again, you were awful quick to open that door, and all
rumpled too,” Ken said, winking at Mark. I tensed at the unknowing reminder
that I had awakened Mark this morning. Even though he was still tired from his
last mission, he hadn’t said anything about it. Yet, I could see the weariness
as he moved about. It appeared I was nothing more than a bother.
“Okay, you’re done. Out. We discussed
this— No suggestive or lewd comments that make Gav uncomfortable. So, out now.
Before I skin you, and we’ll have a side of fox to go with breakfast.” Mark
waved the spatula at Ken, whose fur bristled in offense.
“I think we’ve stayed long enough.”
Tamaroa stood. “Enjoy your morning, Mark, and a pleasure to see you again,
Gavnson. We’ll be on our way now.” She grabbed Ken by his scruff and lifted the
four-foot Vanaska fox easily, ignoring his demands to be put down as they left
the house. Mark chuckled at the antics.
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Meet the Author
Alli has always had a love for just about any story she can get her hands on. Be it from books, TV, or even video games—if there’s a good story, she will love it. Given that, it’s easy to see how Alli moved on to making stories of her own.
Raised in a small Colorado town, Alli also has a love of the outdoors and enjoys hiking. Nowadays she lives in a bigger city and fits in just fine there too, liking how close and comfy everything is. Often at home with her two cats, Alli is never far from her computer whether for work or for play. She believes the truth is a multifaceted thing and always works to write the world, and subsequently the truth of the world, as she sees it.
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