Stalemate

Chapter Eleven

Her shirt is sticking to her skin, sweat sliding down her face and neck. She revels in the sweat and the burn in her muscles as she pounds the now sagging make-shift punching bag. With a final snap of her leg, Kyra sends the punching bag swerving precariously.

It's been twenty-four hours since Kyra had stormed into this same room and challenged Riddick to a fight.

She still isn't sure if she has won or lost. It isn't even that simple, that black and white, but she's in the gym room now, which means she didn't completely have her ass handed to her.

And that kiss.

Kyra frowns, panting as she leans against the wall, sliding down. If you could even call it a kiss, she thinks with a burst of annoyance.

It might have been a punch to her lips considering the force he used, nearly devouring her mouth. It wasn't a nice kiss, the kind she thinks that young girls probably get on their sweet sixteenth. Actually, on her sixteenth, she got tipsy with a bounty in a bar before killing him for money.

So her track record of kisses and boyfriends is shoddy at best, but she knows that feeling, that electric sensation that gallops through her blood making her lust for more.

In her confusion, she doesn't notice Riddick entering the gym until he bends down to pick up a weight while simultaneously looking over at her pooled on the floor.

"I'm done," she announces and hoists herself up and exits with as much dignity as possible.

She spends the next twenty minutes soaking in the shower and scrubbing her hair viciously. She felt like a childish school girl waiting for the star quarterback to talk to her. Wrinkling her nose at the analogy, she silently berates herself for watching the ridiculous teen soap opera in the control room.

Kyra wraps the towel material around her and stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is already starting to snarl, and the teeth of the brush stick at the ends of her hair.

Setting down the brush, she eyes her face warily. It's been a long time she has scrutinized her features, and she still struggles with the results. She thinks of herself as too delicate for her job. Her dirty blonde hair and slender figure. Her ski-jump nose paired with large blue-green eyes.

But she knows her muscles are tuned for her work. And more importantly, she's good at it. She's more successful than half of the male mercs who have been doing the job long before she was born.

Kyra wonders why she's willing to risk it all for Riddick.

And then, with a powerful yank of her brush, she knows she'd rather not answer that question.

A knock startles her and her brush clatters to the floor.

"Jesus," she mutters, and then loudly, "What?"

"She's on the comm."

Kyra flies into a tornado of throwing her clothes on and racing out of the bathroom.

"Did you answer?" She asks tersely, not looking at him.

"No, recognized the number," Riddick replies as the halted outside the room.

"Stay here," Kyra commands, and then slides into the control room, flicking the screen on.

"Oh. You're still alive," the redhead greets, her phony smile stretching over perfect white teeth.

Kyra crosses her arms, studying the screen with a hard look. "Why wouldn't I be? He's not that difficult."

A laugh spills from her red lips. "He's Riddick. So unless you keep him under with horse tranquilizers, I'm sure he's a great inconvenience. This is why I am offering you a chance to drop him at our station on Gray."

Gray is only two weeks out, but it's a different direction than the UV system. The planet's name reflects its thick clouds and constant downpour. Kyra has been there once and doesn't need a repeat. Shaking her head, Kyra tells her, "No thanks. We'll stick with our original plan."

"Suit yourself," the woman shrugs a little in the screen. "I'll contact you in a couple of weeks. Just to make sure you're still alive and well."

"Not necessary," Kyra replies shortly. "By the way, do you have a name? I'd hate to call and ask for 'the woman with really fake red hair'."

The woman's dark eyes narrow into twin pieces of icy coal. "I'm the only one who answers this sequence." And with a small flicker of the screen, she was gone.

Riddick stands in the doorway. "Take it you don't like her."

Kyra turns with a scoff. "What's to like? She's a bitch and I'm pretty sure she suspects something." She adds with a mumble, "I know I would."

Riddick snatches her arm as she brushes past. His hand curls entirely around her bicep. "Horse tranquilizers?"

Kyra wrenches her arm away, ignoring the lingering pain. "Don't tempt me."

A laugh, more genuine than Kyra has ever heard from him, echoes in the ship. "Don't bother. They don't work that well anyway."

(A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I was sick, then had surgery, then was sick again. Really annoying. I'm writting again but be patient, it'll take me a while to get going again. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!)