“Aw, that’s not nice.” I try to keep my voice light and teasing, acting like it’s no big deal whatsoever that he’s just mentioned Devlar.
“They never knew!” he says, still smiling. “We danced so hard and they all cheered for us. We used to die laughing.”
His face falls. I don’t know if it’s the use of the word “die,” or just thinking about Dev in general, but now his forehead is furrowed as if he’s upset with himself. I move to the bottom corner of the bed closest to him. Our knees are inches apart.
“I think it’s good to remember those times,” I say softly. “And to let yourself laugh again. I think he’d want that.”
He won’t meet my eyes. “I think what he’d want is for me to have his back and not let him get—” Hans breaks off and brings a fist to his mouth. Then he looks at me and my heart jumps. “You should go.”
I probably should, but I’m scared to leave him. “What will you do?”
“I’ll do what I do every night. I’ll take the maximum amount of drugs I was able to get my hands on at lunchtime. Then I’ll go to the bar and drink the maximum amount of alcohol they’ll serve me. And then I’ll fuck as hard and as long as possible until I can’t move. After that I’ll somehow drag my ass back here to pass out.”
My eyes burn. I swallow once, twice, trying not to cry.
“Can you do me a favor?” I ask.
His eyes narrow in response.
“Tomorrow can you wait to start on the drinking and drugs until after your therapy session?”
He rubs a hand over his face, inhaling and exhaling loudly. “I hate seeing that meddling fucker, always asking me question after question like he’s my fucking mother or something.”
“That’s his job, Hans. He’s trying to help you.”
“Well, he can’t.”
I’m afraid he’s right. I joke, “Let me be your therapist instead.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes, but the more I think about it, the more it grows and solidifies. Hans has less than three weeks before he leaves for the mission he claims will be his last. He won’t talk to the doctor. He self-medicates to work up the nerve to even show up at his session. Something needs to change ASAP. I’m no therapist, but I have a better chance of getting him to open up to me and take his meds than his actual therapist does.
“I’ll get my brother to approve it. We’ll get your prescription filled. I’ll give you your meds each day, and we can sit, just like this. No pressure. No annoying questions. Just two friends.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “You’re insane. Cap would never go for that.”
“I don’t know; he was pretty pissed today. He might be willing to try anything to keep you out of trouble.”
Hans raises his hands and lets them fall back to his thighs with a smack. He looks at me, nearly melting me in my spot.
“All right, whatever you say, little Lexon. If you can get me out of having to see that bastard every day, then fine.”
My mouth stretches in an uncontrollable smile. I stand and hold out my hand. He does the same, enveloping my fingers in his hot palm. He gives off heat from head to toe, warming me. I slowly pull my hand away, wondering if he can somehow sense the fact that his gaze and nearness go straight to my nether regions in a frenzy of nervous excitement.
“Okay, then.” I clear my throat. “Go ahead and drink the rest of your water and be careful tonight.”
“Will you be at Sky Club again?”
I look away, chewing my lip. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t let me catch you dry-humping that eggplant head.”
My eyes bug out. “At least I didn’t go home with him and two other guys.”
His face twists in disgust, as if imagining me screwing three men.
“Let’s keep it that way. Go to the zoo or something. Stay away from the bars.”
He smacks the door panel and it slides open. Hans waves a hand as if ushering me out, and I glare at him. Oh, I’m so going to the bar now. Nobody keeps the littlest Lexon in a corner.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The bar probably isn’t the best place for me to tell Russell my brilliant idea for helping Hans. Especially not when Hans is glowering over at me from across the room with not three, but five Mars women surrounding him. But he’s not the only guy this time. He’s got one of the new Hornet recruits with him, a stout islander-looking man with his head shaved on both sides and a strip of brown curls down the center of his head. They laugh with the ladies and throw back shots.
“What is it?” Russ asks. I’ve got my hand on his forearm and didn’t realize my nails were digging in as I stared at Hans. I quickly drop his arm and take a deep breath.
“Things aren’t going well with Hans and his therapist—”
“No shit.”
Reesa frowns, the three of us in a tight triangle at the end of the bar, trying to talk over the noise.
“I think you should just forget about making him go to that guy and…” Oh, God, what am I doing? The next part comes out like a squeak. “Let me be his therapist every day until you leave.”
Russell laughs. His face actually splits into a smile and he laughs. I put a hand on my hip as Reesa stares back and forth between us.
“I’m serious. Hear me out. That guy is getting nowhere with him. Hans has to get wasted just to work up the nerve to see him. And worst of all, he’s not taking his meds. I got him to take it today, Russell. Me.”
His eyes lift to the ceiling.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say. “But it’s not like that. He won’t let it be.” I cross my arms. “He’s pretty adamant.”
My brother’s nose crinkles like he’s smelled something bad…possibly his little sister’s lust for his soldier.
“When we hung out tonight he opened up to me,” I tell them. “Just for a second, he mentioned Devlar, and…” I shake my head. “I’m a safe place for him. If he lets down his guard just a tiny bit each day and keeps taking his medication, maybe his frame of mind will change by the time you guys leave.”
Reesa smiles at me and takes Russell’s hand.
“It’s not a bad idea, Lex. I mean, really, what can it hurt?”
He gives her a look as if she knows exactly what it can hurt. Me.
“I can handle it,” I insist, hoping it’s true. Because honestly, my brother is right. This could destroy my heart. It’s possible the only one who this “therapy” will change is me. I guess that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
“Let me make this very clear,” Russ tells me. “I want no part of this. As far as the military is concerned, his professional sessions remain for legality purposes. If he doesn’t show, then he doesn’t show. I can get ahold of his meds and give them to Reesa. But I don’t want to know anything. I don’t want to know when things go downhill, and I don’t want to see you crying.”
I stand straighter. “I understand. No drama.”
“Just get him to take those fucking meds.”
“I will.” I try not to smile, shocked that my brother is even humoring this idea, but Reesa is biting her bottom lip, her face lit up in glee. Russell shakes his head, his face looking pinched. Rees grabs the hand at my side and we both squeeze.
A slow song comes on—one of those grinding ones.
“Let’s dance!” Reesa says to my brother.
“Absolutely not.”
I snort with laughter as she giggles up into his face and he slides his hands around her waist. I suddenly feel like a huge third wheel. My eyes move over to the other side of the room at their own accord and I suck in a ragged breath. Hans is staring right at me. When he catches my gaze he raises a shot glass and throws it back before turning his attention back to the women.
I try not think about what it means that he was staring at me, but how can I not? He’s probably just wondering how my talk with Russell went. I should go let him know. My brother and Reesa don’t even notice as I leave them and head through the crowd. It goes against my every
instinct to walk up to a guy who’s surrounded by other women, but when I sidle up the usual catty animosity is not there. The Mars women look me over with interest, even kindness.
Hans surely knows I’m there since everyone else is looking at me, but he doesn’t lift his eyes. In one hand he holds another shot of the Mars Morphian. His other hand rests on the thigh of the woman beside him and I force myself not to snarl at the sight. I give all of the women a “hello” wave and clear my throat.
“Hey. Hans.”
Slowly, his chin angles down toward me and his eyes peer up in question.
“I thought you’d be at the zoo.”
“Oh, I am.” I take the shot from his hand and toss it back, squeezing my eyes shut against the burn. To his credit, he doesn’t react in any way. An awkward silence falls over the entire group, making me want to back away, but instead I look at the new guy with the curly brown strip of hair down his head and hold out my hand.
“Hi, I’m Lanna Lexon.”
The guy takes my hand in a strong grip. “Lexon?”
“Cap’s baby sis,” Hans explains. “From South Carolina.”
He nods, his mouth pulling up with surprise. “All the way here on Mars, huh? I’m Sergeant Moore. Cincinnati.”
As we release the handshake I spot dark purple hair entering the bar from the elevator and my eyebrows raise.
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a smile.
My eyes flit to Hans but he’s staring at Hensley over the crowd with an annoyed expression. It’s flattering that he feels protective of me, or whatever this is, but it’s not fair to me. The fact of the matter is that Hans is going home with at least one of these women tonight. He’s made it clear he won’t be with me. I don’t want to use Hensley to upset Hans, but the guy is cute and sweet and funny. I like being around him, though I don’t want to lead him on. Not that he wants anything more than sex. This is Mars, after all.
I decide right then that I’m not going to try to talk to Hensley anymore until after Hans is gone. Honestly, I’m afraid what Hans will do to Hensley in a drunk/high idiotic frenzy. I’m not going to poke the bear. So, I avoid eye contact with Hensley.
“Just wanted to let you know we’re on for tomorrow.”
His eyes narrow at me. “No fucking way.”
“Yep. See ya.” I wave at the new guy and turn away from them.
I feel Hans’s heated stare on my back as I make my way to the bar to surround myself in the safety of the Hornets. Tiko and Tripoli greet me warmly and let me hang out with them. Yahni gives me that creepily entrancing stare with his icy blue eyes as he sits at the bar in our semi-circle, watching but never talking while the rest of us stand with our drinks.
A couple drinks into the night, a new guy walks in and I feel my brow go up, because whoa. He’s huge. Obviously of Earth. Obviously military. His hair is dark and neat. His five o’clock shadow is sexy. And his shirt sleeves can hardly contain his oversized shoulders and biceps. He’s young and confident. I’m totally staring.
“Is he one of the new Hornets?” I ask.
The others peer over and nod, opening the circle to invite him in.
“Hey, Mace.”
“What’s up, y’all?” His southern twang is even stronger than mine. I’d place him from Texas or Alabama. He clasps hands with each of the guys and then his eyes land on me, going kind of soft and sultry. Those dark eyes send a shiver through me. I hold out my hand and he takes it in his huge, warm one.
“I’m Lanna.” I nod toward where my brother and Reesa are laughing a few feet away with Sheralyn. “Captain Lexon’s sister.”
That quickly, the sultry look is gone, erased as if my words had ice in them. He all but yanks his hand back and clears his throat. “Nice to meet you.”
It’s such a ridiculous reaction that Tiko and Tripoli both cover their mouths with their fists and cackle. I roll my eyes.
But Mace is grinning now and he holds up his hands. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
“We saw that look you gave her,” Tripoli teases, making Tiko cross his arms and nod.
“Shut up, you guys.” If there’s one thing I know about the Hornets, it’s that they don’t back down. They terrorize each other and love confrontations. The hot new guy won’t even look in my direction now, which is fine. Whatever. Jerks.
We order another round—Mace gets a double—and as the music gets louder and we become increasingly intoxicated, the circle shifts. Tiko turns to talk to a woman, leaving me arm-to-arm with Mace. He still hasn’t acknowledged me again, but I get it. I’m actually shocked when he leans slightly toward me and says from the corner of his mouth, “Why aren’t you out there dancing?”
“Why aren’t you?” I sip my drink and peer up at him.
“Oh, hell, nah.” His smile is big and easy, like Hans’s used to be.
I smile. “Where you from?”
“Just outside of Houston.”
I nod and start to respond but get cut off. In a gruff move, someone pushes my arm hard enough to make me step over, and suddenly Hans is there, standing between Mace and I.
“I see you met lil Lexon,” Hans says to the other man, but there’s nothing friendly about his tone.
Mace holds up his palms like he’d done earlier, and I give Hans’s arm a smack.
“God, will you guys back off? Please? He’s being a gentleman.”
Hans glares. “No Hornet is a fucking gentleman.”
“Whatever.” I turn away from them and face the bar. Sometimes the constant banter with Hans is exhausting.
“Rawko trying to be your bodyguard again?” Trip’s arm brushes mine as we wait for drinks.
“Something like that.”
Trip grins. “Yeah, something like that.”
“What’s that mean?” I narrow my eyes, curious.
Before he can answer, damned if Hans isn’t shoving his body between Tripoli and me, putting his expansive chest and arms on the bar and making me step aside.
“The fuck, dude?” Tripoli turns and shoves Hans, who falters the slightest bit as his fellow soldier continues to go off. “You can push New Guy all you fucking want, but keep your hands off me, bro.”
My heart starts hammering at the way the two of them face off, all brawn and arrogance. Tripoli is smaller but I have no doubt he’s quick.
“Okay, enough, please,” I say, my voice shaking. They don’t even hear me, now chest to chest.
“Whatever this fucking issue is that you’ve got,” Trip says, “you need to get it in check.”
“Right now my fucking issue is you.”
Oh, my God. Hans wants to fight. I close my eyes and exhale as the tension ratchets up around us. Tiko and Mace have circled them, seeing there’s a problem. Neither try to intervene, but I know they’ll be there to keep them from hurting other people.
I’m about to yell for my brother, but he’s already there, just in time for the two of them to start wailing on each other. People scream and run. Reesa and Sheralyn find me and we grab hands, watching in horror as fists fly. It only lasts a minute because the other guys are able to tear them away from each other. My stomach turns at the sight of blood on both men, who are barely breathing hard. Tripoli licks his swollen lip and grins up at Hans, who has blood dripping from his eyebrow.
Russell yells an apology over his shoulder to Match, the bartender, and shouts to the crowd, “Coming through!” He drags Hans by the nape of his shirt. Nobody bothers grabbing Tripoli, who’s adjusting his shirt as he follows the other men out of the bar. Reesa kisses Sheralyn good-bye and the two of us join the men at the elevator. When Hans tries to break away from Russ, my brother grabs him by the throat, making me gasp.
“Calm the fuck down, Rawk.”
“Russell!” I yell.
Reesa gets between them with a calming hand on my brother’s arm, and she takes Hans’s face until he peers down at her, focusing, his breathing settling. I feel a pang of jealousy at the way she’s able to calm him enough to get h
im on the elevator. My brother and I walk in after them as Reesa continues to say calming, soft words to Hans. He backs into the corner, shutting his eyes and grabbing the top of his nose. He lets out a raspy, shaky breath, as close as he’ll probably ever come to crying, and my heart seizes in my chest with sorrow for him.
Seeing Hans’s defeat, my brother’s shoulders slump a little and we all get quiet. The rest of the night is uneventful. My brother puts Hans in a hover car and sends him to his place; he doesn’t look at any of us as he zooms away. Then the three of us head back to the apartment.
I whisper to Reesa, “You did good with him. You guys have a bond.”
She shakes her head sharply and crosses her arms, peering down at the ground as she walks. “We’re just friends.”
“I know,” I tell her, confused by her weird reaction. Of course they’re friends. That should go without saying, right?
Altogether, it’s not a great night. I’m happy to put my earbuds in, turn up my country music, and put all of it from my mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Know what’s awkward? Seeing Tiko slip out of the apartment in the wee hours of the morning and then finding Rainell in a silky robe with bed head, sipping tea at the table like a satisfied fat cat. Thank God for ear buds. Her real hair is brown and wavy, cut short to make it easier for her wigs.
“Good morning, dear,” she says to me. “Are you alone?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Yes, ma’am. Just me.” Me who hasn’t been laid for eight months.
I make a cup of coffee and slip on my sandals. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”
“That sounds nice.” She smiles lazily, and I leave her.
It’s pretty early so I’m surprised to see Hensley working the door shift already. His smile is huge and infectious.
“Good morning, Lanna! How’s our resident Earth girl today?”
“Fine. Still sleepy, but I wanted to stretch my legs.” I’m hyper aware of my morning breath as he moves closer. How the hell is he so chipper this early?
“That was too bad about the fight at the bar, huh?” he asks. “I was dancing, so I didn’t see what happened.”
My stomach sours and I take another sip of my coffee, letting the hot liquid coat my belly. “Yeah, it was upsetting. Do you get many fights here?”
Out of the Stars (Into the Stars Book 2) Page 6