When She Belongs: A SciFi Alien Romance (A Risdaverse Tale Book 4)

by Ruby Dixon

  She hesitates. "I wanted to."

  I look up at her. There's a knot in my throat telling me not to reach out, not to dare to hope for too much, but I can't help myself. "I liked it."

  Sophie's lips part. She gazes down at me, her expression full of surprise.

  I rub her hip, determined not to break eye contact. I want to show her, even if it's just with a touch, that I'm obsessed with her. That if she wants to press her mouth to my face a dozen times, I'd take it like the greedy fool I am.

  She stops massaging my arm and shifts in the bed. For a moment, I think I've keffed it all up and she's getting out of bed, but Sophie slides lower, until we're face to face. She watches me with a thoughtful expression on her features, and then leans in and ever so lightly kisses my plated brow.

  I groan, stroking her side.

  "I'm not…violating hygiene laws?" she asks, breathless, as her hand moves to my face and lightly caresses my cheek.

  "Don't care," I manage, unable to stop touching her. I caress the gentle curve of her hip, marveling at how soft she is. I rub her through the tunic, keeping my movements light and inoffensive. I'm not grabbing at anything. I just…want to touch her. That's all.

  She leans in and kisses my nose, her lips a feathery graze over my skin. Her eyelids are heavy, her lashes shielding her expression from me, but I don't think she's scared. She's not trembling in my arms. She seems comfortable as she leans over and presses a light kiss to my cheek, and then her thumb brushes over my cheekbone. "What would you do if I kissed your mouth?"

  What would I do? "I would…smile?"

  Sophie giggles and I feel a little foolish. Before I can react to that, though, she leans in and ever so carefully presses her lips to mine. It's just a momentary touch and gone as quickly as it happened. Warmth floods through my system, though, and I do smile.

  And then…my smile fades. She said before that the kiss meant nothing. I have been imagining it as some great affection, a sign that she likes me as much as I do her…but what if I am wrong? "May I ask something?"

  "Of course."

  "Do you kiss everyone?"

  She recoils as if stung, and hurt flashes over her face. I realize in that moment I've made a mistake. That this small gesture was special, and for me alone, and I have somehow ruined it.

  Sophie shoots out of the bed as if it’s on fire, and I reach for her. I grab her wrist. "Wait. I did not mean it like that."

  She gives me a wounded expression. "Then what did you mean?" Her voice is ice cold.

  I struggle for the right thing to say. To explain that I do not understand how a female like her can show affection to a male like me. I have been broken in every way possible and have retreated from the universe. I have nothing to offer her. I have been cruel and cold…and yet she still wishes to kiss me? It feels like more than I deserve, and so the answer must clearly be that I am not special, that kisses are for everyone. It is the only thing that makes sense…even if I am wrong. Judging by her expression, I am very wrong. "I…do not understand why you would kiss a broken male."

  Her expression softens. "Jerrok…"

  The station's comm flares with alert. "Incoming craft. Incoming craft. Hailing frequency on channel three. Please respond."

  Sophie stumbles backward, and I release her wrist. "What's going on?"

  "Visitors," I grumble, irritated at their timing. "They announced that they'd be arriving while you were asleep. I told them to come on ahead." At her worried look, I add, "They're just dropping off salvage. No one's staying. You can hide in my rooms and no one will bother you. I promise this."

  She gives me a skeptical look, but nods. "They'll be gone quickly?"

  "Very quickly," I reassure her.

  Sophie thinks for a moment and then gestures at me. "You should probably put some pants on, then."

  I glance down and realize for the first time that I'm not wearing anything but the blanket, and it's pooled very low around my hips, showing off every scar and old marking that litters my body. But her smile is warm, and she runs her fingers lightly over my jaw before turning away.

  And it seems I am going to greet my guests with a hard cock, because now I can't stop thinking about that touch…or her kiss.

  38

  JERROK

  Vuttis takes his sweet time docking, and then even more time showing me what he's brought. I've dealt with the szzt pirate plenty of times in the past, and if he isn't my favorite person, he's mostly harmless. A drunk, actually.

  Today, though, he has a new crew and I don't like the looks of them. There's three males, two more szzt and a ssithri with a shifty look in his eyes. They dock their shuttle and haul in their scrap, including a fancy little air sled that they probably stole from the last port they were at. It's a decent haul, but it'll also clean out my credit reserves. That's all right. I can make more.

  "Where's your old crew?" I ask Vuttis, my arms crossed over my chest as I stand in front of the bay doors that lead to the station's living areas. Sophie and her pet are safely tucked away in my quarters, but even so, I don't want them thinking they can come and relax inside.

  Vuttis just shrugs hard shoulders and scratches at the new symbol emblazoned on his tunic's chest, the one also on the hull of the ship. "We had a misunderstanding or three and parted ways."

  Great. I watch as the szzt lifts a flask to his lips and belches. Behind him, the ssithri eyes my station with interest, touching wall panels and assessing the structure as the other two szzt unload the scrap vehicles they've brought. They're doing a poor job, which means they're likely drunk, too. My irritation rises.

  It keeps rising when Vuttis decides he wants to haggle. "Two hundred thousand credits for this lot," he announces, waving his flask in the air. "Untrackable credits, of course. You'll make ten times that scrapping all of it."

  I snort. "You're a keffing idiot if you think I'm paying that much. Thirty thousand. Max. Untrackable."

  The szzt hisses at me, baring his sharp teeth. "You insult me."

  "No, I don't." I gesture at the load. "It's a good haul, but it's not two hundred thousand good." This is all part of the game, of course. We'll haggle over pricing for a while, he'll call me names, I'll verbally trash what he brought, and we'll settle on a price somewhere in between. Sure enough, Vuttis counters with one forty, and we continue haggling as I work the price down to one hundred, then ninety, then seventy-five. He's completely soused, so it's not that difficult to bargain, and he's giving in pretty easily. Either the gear is extremely hot and freshly stolen, or something else is going on.

  I suspect the latter when the ssithri slinks toward us, listening in as we work out the price. "This mussst be a lonely ssstation," he hisses at me, his tongue flicking. "Ssso far from everything."

  "That's how I like it," I tell him, keeping my tone casual even though my hackles rise. I gesture at Vuttis. "Do we have a deal or not?"

  The szzt grunts. "Deal. Pay me."

  I pause, glancing over at their ship. I want to ask if they've got any human artifacts on board. I can tell them I know a buyer and purchase whatever they have…just because I want to see Sophie's eyes light up. But I don't. I'm already on high alert, and I don't want to let these too-curious fools know that Sophie's here on the station, along with an expensive guard-beast. "Seventy it is, then. Follow me."

  I head over to the wall safe I have built into the hangar itself, where I keep my trading income…or most of it. I actually keep it pretty spare as part of the “bargaining.” If I offer to pay seventy and I only have seventy-five in my safe, they think they've gotten a good deal out of me. In reality, I have more squirreled away on board, hidden in vents and under false flooring, like any good scavenger. I keep my walk slow, exaggerating my limp as I head to the safe, and I can't help but notice that both the ssithri and Vuttis follow close behind me.

  Hopefully they're just drunk.

  I open the safe and pull out the funds, and the ssithri eyes everything I do with great interest. I hold
the bag of credits out to Vuttis, who takes another swig before snatching it from my grip.

  "Pleasure doing business with you," I say in my driest voice. "Now you can leave."

  The ssithri gives a hissing laugh. "So hosssspitable."

  "No one comes here for hospitality," I point out. "You come here because I buy your junk and don't ask questions." I gesture at the ship. "But now we're done and you can go."

  Vuttis picks up one of my favorite tools off a nearby work bench, studies it, and then pockets it. I narrow my eyes at him, but he just grins at me and drinks another round. Behind him, the two other szzt laugh and grab whatever is nearest and pitch it into their shuttle.

  "What the kef are you drunks doing?" I keep my tone exasperated, even though I'm on high alert at this point.

  The ssithri pulls out a weapon and points it at me. "Haven't you figured thissss out, friend? Thissss is a robbery." He gestures at the safe. "You can open that again. Give usss the ressst."

  I eye Vuttis, but he won't look at me. Typical. Something tells me he wasn't just dumped from his last crew because they were a “bad fit.” I snort with disgust. "You're robbing a junker?"

  "Timessss are hard," the ssithri says. "And I sssussspect you make plenty, my friend."

  I stare down the blaster pointed at my face. I've been robbed before. It happens, especially on the edge of the universe. It's another reason why I keep my credits stashed. I can probably distract them long enough to get them out of here reasonably safely…but I don't know these pirates. They might just as soon shoot me the moment I open the safe.

  And there's Sophie's safety to think about. I can't let any harm come to her. "If I give you what's in the safe, you'll get out of here?" I'll change the permissions, arm the defenses and make sure they never come to my doorstep ever again.

  "After we sssee what you have on your little sstation," the sssithri acknowledges with a nod. "Maybe you give us your food, hmmm?"

  Those supplies are for Sophie and her pet. And me, but I can miss a meal. I don't want my fragile human guest suffering. I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest, unwilling to flinch in front of the blaster. He won't kill me as long as that safe remains locked, after all.

  The ssithri flicks the blaster toward the door. "Open that, and then the safe."

  "No."

  Vuttis looks uneasy. "Jerrok, just do it. We'll leave you alone after we take whatever's worth taking."

  "No," I say again. "You're not stepping a foot inside my private quarters."

  You're not going any-keffing-where near Sophie.

  The blaster hums as he flicks a switch, bringing it to life. He points it at my brow again. "Then we have a problem," the ssithri hisses.

  39

  SOPHIE

  It seems that I've learned something from my days on the Little Sister. When Jerrok doesn't return right away, I head to the old comm station in his quarters, the one he never uses. I look for familiar buttons, and when I find what I'm seeking, I tap the sequence, turning on visuals for the station. I get three different rooms before I get the hangar bay, and then what I see takes my breath away.

  There's a snake-looking alien holding a gun to Jerrok's face. And Jerrok's scowling at him, arms crossed.

  He's going to get killed.

  I can't let this happen. I grab one of the weapons off of Jerrok's wall—a blaster type that I don't know the name of but I recognize well. I turn it on, listening to the hum, and then silently pad to my room, getting my mask and cloak. I toss the cloak on, put on the mask, and when I head to the door, Sleipnir's pacing just outside it, waiting. He's agitated, his tail flicking wildly. For a moment, I think about closing him into my room, but…this is what he's born to do.

  I put a hand on his head, calming him. "Stay behind me," I say, even as I slide my long sleeve over the blaster. "Do you understand me, Sleipnir?"

  The carinoux looks up at me with intelligent eyes and blinks once. I hope that's a yes. I don't have time to make sure if it is. Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and open the door to the hangar.

  Jerrok goes pale the moment I do.

  The blaster immediately turns from Jerrok toward me. The snake alien stares at me, confused, and then lets out a hissing laugh as he turns back toward Jerrok again. "You got yourself an ooli mate? You must be desperate. You—"

  I fire.

  It's easy enough, and my hands are remarkably steady. I hit him in the shoulder, and he drops the gun, so I fire again and this time I hit him in the face. The blaster punches a disgusting hole in his head and the alien slumps to the ground.

  Sleipnir rushes past me in a gleeful howl, and someone else screams.

  Jerrok immediately grabs the face of the second man in front of him—the szzt—and gives a hard twist. There's a loud crack, and then the second alien falls over the one I killed. At the far side of the dock, I hear screaming, and I drop the gun in my hand with a clatter. "Sleipnir…"

  "I'll get him." But Jerrok moves to my side first, checking me over. He touches my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

  I nod.

  "Wait here." His tone is gruff—but I know him well enough to hear the underlying gentleness there—and he jogs heavily over to where the pirates' ship is docked and the cargo hold hanging open. I crouch low on my knees, clutching the blaster in my hands. Strangely enough, I feel…calm. I just killed a man. A stranger. But…he was threatening Jerrok, and I knew I couldn't just let him keep waving that gun in his face. It'd be both of our lives if Jerrok was taken out.

  The thought of that distresses me. I picture Jerrok lying on the floor like the dead men are, a hole punched through his head, and I squeeze my eyes tightly at the flare of anxiety that it stirs inside me. He's safe. We're fine.

  There's an angry growl that comes from the other side of the hangar. "Call him off, Sophie," Jerrok bellows. "He's not listening to me."

  "Sleipnir," I call out, making my voice as sweet as I can. "Come here, sweetheart."

  Something wet falls on the ground, and then the carinoux is running over to me, his opalescent muzzle splattered in blood. I shudder, pulling off my cloak and using it to wipe his face. His tail's wagging like a dog's and he's got the most self-satisfied look on his face, as if he's done good. I suppose he has. He's done his job and kept me safe.

  "You're a good boy," I reassure him, rubbing and scratching at the ridges of his ears as I mop his face. "Such a good boy."

  He thrums with the low purr of his kind and flops down at my feet and begins to groom himself. I toss the bloodied cloak aside and take off my mask as Jerrok comes back over to me. He shakes his head when I step forward. "Don't. You don't need to see that."

  I bite my lip. "Are they all dead?"

  "Very." Jerrok watches my face, his expression solemn.

  "Are…we in trouble? Because we killed these men?"

  A grin creases his face. "This scum? No, not at all. Even if someone came looking for them, it'd likely just be to collect the bounty. No, we're fine." He nods at the ship. "Except maybe we have a lot more scrapping to do than anticipated."

  I let out a huff of breath, too relieved to laugh. Actually, I don't even know if I'm in a laughing mood. There's adrenaline rushing through me with nowhere to go, and I feel restless and odd. I set the blaster down and step away from it. "I took that off your wall."

  "I'm not sorry. Take what you like as long as it's not aimed at me." There's a glitter in his eyes that tells me he's feeling the same surge of adrenaline I am, the same strange giddiness.

  "Do you often get robbed?" I take a step toward him. "Because you're out here alone?"

  He shakes his head and he closes the distance between us. "No. I get left alone for the most part. These must have been desperate." He reaches out and brushes his knuckles against my cheek, a look of concern on his face. "You sure you're okay?"

  I take his hand and hold it to my face, closing my eyes. It's not his prosthetic but his other hand, and instead of feeling metal and the occasi
onal too-bulky part underneath the surface, I feel calluses and warm, suede-like skin. "I'm okay. I just need to process."

  "You're keffing amazing," he murmurs, and I don't realize I need praise until this moment. "You saved me."

  His voice is low and rich with emotion, and I can't think of a thing to say. He seems to be waiting for some sort of response, so I just sit there and hold his hand before I finally chirp out, "That's what friends do."

  I know I've fucked up when his expression goes blank and cold, and he pulls his hand out of my grip. "I don't need friends."

  40

  JERROK

  Friends.

  Keffing friends.

  I've allowed myself to hope, and this is what I get for hoping—an ache in my chest and a feeling of stupidity in my gut. Friends. Of course she wants to be just friends. Why would she look twice at station garbage like myself? Even if I was whole of limb and un-keffed in the head by war, I'm worthless and broke. The brothers will find her a protector that will keep her nice and safe—or they'll keep her as crew. She can do better than a junk trader, and it's stupid of me to even entertain the idea.

  Friends.

  The thought rings in my head like a constant taunt, even as I space the bodies and then hose down the hangar bay with water from the recycler. If we're friends, why is she kissing me? She did say that kisses meant nothing.

  Well, I'm not human. They mean something to me, and I don't like that she's practicing on me.

  I head into the ship once the bay is clean enough and use a crowbar to pry out the circuitry, feeling a particular sort of pleasure when it sizzles and sparks. Destroying things helps. Always does. I bring out a scanner and do a quick check of the ship itself. Stolen, of course. No trackers, though, so I make a mental note to get started on it in the morning.

  For now, I'm keffing tired. It's been a long day of cleaning and then checking over the ship. I just want to eat some dry noodles and relax and be left alone. I hope Sophie's in her room, because I'm not sure I can handle her sad eyes or her touching me with gentle, hesitant fingers. Because we're friends.