Haven 2: Redemption

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Haven 2: Redemption Page 6

by Sandra R Neeley


  She knew everyone handled things in different ways. Some cried and fell apart when a loved one died, when others stood strong and lived a stronger life in the memory of the loved one they’d lost. If robbed of all their belongings, some felt violated and never felt safe again, while others armed themselves and prayed someone would try again to take what was theirs, so they could have their retribution. When bullied and beaten, some crumbled and submitted. Others would become the bully, rising to stand strong above everything in their world. After being controlled and taken advantage of by so many males for so long, what Rosie needed was to control and take advantage of as many males as she could. She needed to feel empowered. She needed to take, take, take, and leave the males with nothing at all, but the fact that she’d taken what she needed and cared not a bit about who’d provided it for her. She needed that rush of control. She needed the selfish act of tending to her own needs. She needed to prove to herself that she was still a woman, capable of pleasures, capable of making her own choices. Because then, maybe she could convince herself the last episode of her life was negotiable, and no one had taken anything from her that she wasn’t willing to trade in an effort to survive.

  Rosie sat up. Yes, that was it. She’d not been abused. She’d negotiated. She’d traded whatever she had to in order to survive. And now, here she was. Whole, intact — except for the welts on her back, and they soon would be healed as well. Power. That’s what she needed. And what better way for a woman to harness her power, than to take from a man what she needed, with no regard for who or what he was? “I’m that powerful,” she said to herself. “I still have needs. I will not allow my needs to be stripped from me. I negotiated!” she announced to the empty room. She got up and started strutting around the room, speaking to the four walls. “I negotiated, and I survived!” she said, strolling toward her bathroom. “That’s right. I did it. And now, now I’m about to take some for me. That’s what it’s about. Take or be taken. Be powerful or submit. I. Am. Powerful. I will take what I need!” she declared, strutting back toward her bed.

  Rosie nodded her head. “Yes, indeed, girl. You go get yours. Prove you are still Rosalita Consuela Contreras-Villanueva. You have got it, girl. Use it, walk the walk, and talk the talk. Ain't nobody taking advantage of Rosalita! You got this,” she said as she went back to the bathroom. Rosie undressed, dropping her clothes to the floor, and stepped into the antibacterial foam shower. She’d learned by trial and error that the foam didn’t cause her too much pain, only a slight burning over the parts of her back that wouldn’t heal. She reached out and pressed the button on the wall the way she’d been instructed and ground her teeth waiting for the foam to coat her body, and then dissipate, followed by the warm air drying her skin. When she was done, she got out of the shower and went back to the bedroom, laying a towel on the bed. She took her creams and used the contents of three of the packets to squirt onto the towel. Then she positioned herself in front of the towel and lay back on it, slightly moving her body back and forth to ensure that the cream was spread evenly over her skin. She lay there for a while, allowing the medication to soak into her flesh. Almost immediately, the pain and heat from her wounds began to fade.

  Rosie, satisfied that she’d gotten the medicine where it was needed most, took the towel to the bathroom and folded it to keep it from drying out, planning to use it later for the same purpose. She chose a tighter fitting undershirt, a larger over shirt, and a pair of pants, slipping them on and sliding her feet into a pair of flip-flop looking shoes. She ran a brush through her hair, marveling again at the items these aliens were able to get for them from Earth. She brushed her teeth and pinched her cheeks, smiling at herself in the mirror. She was once again thankful for the permanent makeup she’d had tattooed on her face — eye liner, lip tint and eyebrows — while she was still running with her girls on the streets of Brooklyn. “Let’s see if you can still flaunt it, girl,” she said to her reflection.

  Rosie left her room, speaking quietly to herself. “Power builds strength. Strength builds power.” She made her way to the cafeteria and paused just inside it, looking around. No sign of the pale-green alien here, but that was okay. There were plenty of males to try out her new confidence on. She looked from one male to another and another. These males had been nothing but respectful since she’d awoken here. She felt bad using them the way she intended. “Need the green guy,” she mumbled under her breath. She had no doubt he was a player, just like she’d been growing up on Earth.

  She looked at the plate of one of the aliens as he passed her. “Is that spaghetti?” she asked no one in particular. “I could eat some spaghetti. Ohhh, and is that garlic bread I smell?” she asked, meandering toward the serving line.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  “If you’re hungry, the commissary is on the third level. If you’re sick, the medical suite is on this level on the opposite side of the ship. We passed it when we got off the lift. If you need recreation, I suggest you wait until tomorrow morning when Kol’s Elite Unit comes for you. If you don’t rest first, you’ll wish you had,” Jhan announced to Rokai as he stood just inside the doorway to the double room Rokai and Gaishon would share for the length of their stay here. The other males assigned to escort him from the docking bay stood behind Jhan in the corridor.

  “What about my escort. Don’t I need guidance while I’m here? Who shall I call to guide me to dinner?” Rokai asked with a sarcastic tone.

  “You are always being watched. There is nothing you can do on this ship that is not immediately reported.” Jhan smiled at Rokai ahl, and knowing it would piss him off more than anything else he could say, he shrugged his shoulders and spoke with no emotion at all. “Basically, you’re reduced to nothing more than the petulant child you’ve always been. So, eat, drink and be happy. We care not what you do.”

  Rokai snarled, his face becoming a mask of rage as a laughing Jhan backed away from his door and let it swoosh closed. Jhan took a moment before he walked away to program the door to a delay when Rokai tried to open it, for no other reason than to be spiteful. Whenever Rokai tried to leave his room, the door would not open, nor respond until ten minutes after they’d stopped trying to open it. If they tried again, it would start a new countdown until a full ten minutes had passed without anyone trying to force it open, before it would suddenly open on its own.

  Jhan walked way chuckling, the males with him, shaking their heads and grinning at his antics. “You cannot say he doesn’t deserve it!” Jhan claimed, smiling as one of them patted him on the back, enjoying a really good laugh over it.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Rokai stood in front of his doorway, waving his hands maniacally.

  “Maybe we should call somebody,” Gaishon offered.

  “And say what? We do not understand the workings of the damned door? I know exactly why this door is not functioning! And I will not give him the satisfaction of even mentioning it!” Rokai shouted at the malfunctioning door.

  “Perhaps they locked us in,” Gaishon tried again.

  “They’ll need us at some point. Until then, we give the impression we have not even noticed,” Rokai ordered.

  “Why?” Gaishon asked.

  Rokai turned, glaring at Gaishon. “Because I need them for nothing. Not a single thing. Not even freedom from a malfunctioning door. And I have no doubt that Jhan has something to do with this damned door!” he finished, his words slow and measured.

  Gaishon spun on the bed he was sitting on and put his feet up, resting his head on the pillow. “Aren’t they the reason we aren’t dead? The Consortium told us the only reason we aren’t dead was because of Sire Tel Mo’ Kok. That is surely a sign that he doesn’t wish us, you in particular, to die.”

  “I don’t give a damn what he wants. Perfect-little-sculpted-do-exactly-as-you’re-told-and-be-the-face-of-all-that-is-perfect-and-acceptable-prince, has no bearing on me.”

  “I’m just saying, he doesn’t seem as bad as you describe. In fact, he seems to
be all he’s rumored to be and somewhat terrifying as well.”

  “Perhaps you would care to join his crew and leave mine. Again, it makes no difference to me. I owe loyalty to no one and no thing but myself,” Rokai snapped, irritated that his only friend would dare to defend Zha Quin, and all that had declared him — Rokai — not enough.

  “I didn’t say that, I just said…”

  “Shut up, Gaishon! Allow me a moment’s peace to think!” Rokai yelled, his eyes closed, his forehead resting on the wall beside the doorway.

  “I will. But, first, I will remind you that I am here as your friend, not your servant or your employee. We have fought side-by-side for many years, and I am no more or less than you. You will watch the way you treat me, or you will find yourself alone again,” Gaishon warned.

  Rokai turned to speak to Gaishon in reply, but the door slid open. Rokai looked at the open doorway in surprise.

  Gaishon popped up on the bed with a similar expression on his face.

  They locked eyes then rushed for the doorway in case it decided to close on them suddenly, locking them inside again.

  Standing triumphantly outside their room, they looked up and down the corridor. “We have mastered the doorway!” Rokai shouted, smiling.

  “Let us hope that is the case,” Gaishon responded, looking suspiciously at the still-opened door.

  “Food?” Rokai asked.

  “Food,” Gaishon confirmed.

  Together they started toward the lift to move up to the third level. They approached the lift and expected it to malfunction as well. But when it opened at their approach, they got in and waited for the doors to slide closed and the lift to begin to move. Moments later Rokai, still facing straight ahead and not even looking at Gaishon, addressed the issue at hand. “I am not accustomed to dealing with the people who call themselves my family. It has put me in a bad state of mind. It is not my intention to mistreat you. If you wish to remain on my crew, remain. If you prefer to stay here, stay here. You are not obligated to me in any way.”

  “I know,” Gaishon said simply.

  Chapter 8

  Minutes later they were striding into the commissary, their noses twitching at the enticing scents permeating the air. Their eyes flitting from one person to the next, taking in all the different species who communed here together. Neither of them missed the warriors, clearly on duty, stationed around the room, and those that had entered the commissary just behind them.

  “It appears I make them nervous,” Rokai said, grinning.

  “It would seem so. Again, I repeat my request not to get us killed here,” Gaishon said. “Let us just do what we have to to gain our freedom and be on our way.”

  “And where would be the fun in that?” Rokai answered, beginning to walk away as his eyes found what he sought. She sat alone, her back to the room, clearly enjoying her meal from the sounds of the little moans leaving her throat each time she took a bite. She closed her eyes and savored a piece of the food she nibbled on after she swished it through the sauce on her plate.

  “I can’t help but hear your little noises from across the room. They call to me. I have come to join you.”

  Calmly, Rosie opened her eyes, not sure which male she’d see standing there when she did. She’d gotten sidetracked by the Earth food when she entered the commissary and had set aside her plan to seduce a male until she found the green one again. And to her good fortune, here he was, presenting himself for her pleasure. Rosie looked him up and down, raised an eyebrow at him, and took another bite.

  “Can you hear me, female? Perhaps you have no aural abilities.”

  Rosie finished chewing and swallowed. She smiled pleasantly at the pale-green male standing beside her table. He was quite beautiful, had a dangerous air about himself. “Go away.”

  Rokai ahl lifted his own eyebrows in surprise. “Do you know who I am?” he asked haughtily.

  “Nope,” Rosie answered, popping another piece of garlic bread into her mouth and chewing appreciatively.

  “I am the notorious Rokai ahl. I can give you more of your little noises, more pleasures, more passion, than you could ever imagine.”

  “You’re not that notorious, Papi.”

  Rokai’s eyebrows drew together in confusion — had he not just introduced himself? “I am not Papi, I am Rokai ahl. And I am notorious. Many men and warriors have sought to capture me, yet I elude them at all turns.”

  Rosie nodded. “I see. And you’re so notorious that I’ve never heard of you, so you have to tell me all about how badass you are all on your own.” Rosie smiled at Rokai ahl again, slipped the tip of her tongue out past her thick, plum-colored lips to lick the edge of her glass before taking a sip. “Sorry, Papi, I just don’t buy it.”

  “I am not Papi,” he said emphatically. He couldn’t believe it. This female acted as though she’d not heard of him or his exploits. He watched her for a few moments longer, still focused on the edge of her glass where her tongue had peeked out of her mouth for just long enough for him to watch it taste the side of her glass. He had something else he’d allow her to taste. His trousers began to grow tight as his body responded to her. He remembered Jhan’s words about rescued women being aboard. Deciding that she was perhaps one of the rescued females — that would certainly account for her lack of knowledge of his reputation, so he decided to try again. “Many women have hungered for my talents. You will surely come to regret your refusal of my attentions. I shall find another who is more appreciative,” he said, taking a step back, yet lingering to give her a chance to rethink her decision.

  “Good luck with that, Papi,” Rosie said simply, removing her dagger from the sheath riding at her belt and laying it on the table beside her plate as she winked at him. “Bye, now.”

  Rokai ahl should have been offended. She had a total disregard for him, and even implied a threat to his person when she’d brandished her dagger, but instead, his loins were on fire. Her acts of defiance, her ability to make him rise to her challenges, had him zeroing in on her as he never had any other. He had to have her. There was no other way this could play out. A night in her arms and he’d be on his way, his rising need sated, and her sweet face a memory.

  A true smile graced his face. He performed a little bow to her. “As you wish, Miss…” he said, waiting for her to supply her name.

  Rosie smiled back, a street smart, very aware of everything he was thinking kind of smile. She put all her accent behind the culturally proper pronunciation of her name, rolling her ‘R’s’ for all she was worth. “Rosalita Consuela Contreras-Villanueva,” she supplied, her left eyebrow raised, waiting to see how badly he’d butcher her name if he even tried to pronounce it.

  Rokai listened intently. Languages were one of his gifts. He was not familiar with hers, but he could speak so many fluently, that it was no stretch for him to make his mouth produce very similar sounds and inflections. “Miss Rosalita Consuela Contreras-Villanueva. Until we meet again.”

  Rosie almost allowed the surprise at his near-perfect repetition of her name to sneak into her expression. But she was stronger than that. She was also a well-known player in her own right and knew not to tip her hand that he’d impressed her in any way.

  Rokai ahl bowed to her and took several steps backward.

  “Bye, Papi,” she said, condescendingly.

  Rokai inclined his head one single time, then turned and left her to her meal.

  He scanned the commissary for Gaishon and found him just exiting the serving line, his tray loaded down with more food than one being could possibly consume.

  Rokai walked straight for him, coming up behind him as Gaishon reached for napkins and utensils. “Surely, you cannot eat all that.”

  Gaishon turned, grinning. “You are very aware that I most certainly will. I tire of dried, prepackaged sustenance. I miss real food,” Gaishon complained, stepping around Rokai to take a seat at the nearest table.

  Rokai walked backward up the serving line, peeking betwe
en all the people waiting in line at the different options available. Finding what he wanted, he inserted himself in the line and pointed out to the server what he wanted on his plate.

  Grumbling from behind him had him turning his slightly psychotic gaze on whoever was the source of the grumbling. The sound ceased immediately, leaving him to face several silent males. Confident that he’d silenced any complaints, he went back to ordering his meal. Once his plate was filled, he again stepped around the people in front of him and made his way to the utensil station at the end of the line, inserting himself between those already standing there, to reach for whatever he wanted. Not once did he say excuse me. Not once did he say pardon me. All he did was glare at any who dared to look up to see who it was that did not wait their turn.

  When all eyes went back to their own business and away from considering a challenge to him, he made his way over to Gaishon, choosing a seat across the table from him that allowed him to watch his female as she finished her meal. “You chose the wrong table,” Rokai said as he tore apart the meat on his plate, using his finger to plunge into the gravy and vegetables to test their temperature, before sticking them in his mouth to suck them clean.

  Gaishon looked around. “There is no wrong table. It’s just a table,” he said, going back to eating.

  “You should always choose a table at the edge of the establishment, one that places your back to the wall, and near an alternate exit so that you can make a quick getaway if necessary.”

 

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