Rocor (Dragons of Kratak Book 5)

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Rocor (Dragons of Kratak Book 5) Page 36

by Ruth Anne Scott


  Jendrish looked away for a split second, as if to collect his thoughts. His smile was gone though, and had been replaced with a much more serious expression.

  “Your father, where is he now?” I asked.

  “He's dead,” Jendrish said solemnly. “He passed away not that long ago.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” I said quietly. “And your mother?”

  Jendrish closed his eyes before speaking and when he did, I could hear the pain and raw emotion in his voice.

  “She died during childbirth – which is why I'm an only child.”

  He too was alone in this world, just like me. Just like the rest of us who'd been taken. Without even thinking about it, I reached out and stroked his arm, gently.

  “I'm sorry, Jendrish,” I said.

  “And you?” he asked, turning toward me. “What about you? What do you do down on Earth?”

  What do I do? As in a career? I felt ashamed to answer him, to admit that I was basically nothing but a worthless waitress at a cafe – so I didn't admit to that part. Instead, I focused on the more positive aspect of my existence, such as it was.

  “I'm in school,” I said. “Trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.”

  “Oh? What are you studying?” he asked.

  “Criminal justice,” I said quickly. “I'm not sure what I want to do with it yet exactly. But I do know that I want to stop the bad people from doing shit like this, you know?”

  Jendrish cocked his head and got a faraway look on his face. It was as if he were listening to somebody speaking – somebody apparently, only he could hear.

  “Oh, criminal justice – as in, you want to be a judge?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that,” I laughed. “Maybe a police officer. Perhaps a criminal prosecutor. I haven't decided which route I want to take yet. But I still have some time before I have to decide. Though honestly, I don't know that I could meet all of the physical requirements to be a cop, so law might be the better option for me anyway. ”

  “And why couldn't you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in a curious manner. “Meet these – physical requirements?”

  “Because look at me,” I said, pointing to my curvy physique. “I'm a little out of shape, and not sure I'd pass the trials.”

  He nodded as if he understood. “That is something you can train for though, correct?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose so,” I replied. “I just don't know if I can do it.”

  “Why not?”

  His question was the definition of simple, but for some reason, in that moment, it resonated with me. I always assumed there'd be no time to do any hardcore training – I hardly had time to sleep as it was, much less work out and get into top shape for the police academy. But that wasn't something I wanted to explain to him. I thought it was venturing too far into the personal territory and that was the last place I wanted to go.

  Before I could come up with a good response though, he spoke again. “Honestly, after everything I saw from you tonight, I believe you would make a very fine police officer. I think those women in there would agree with me as well.”

  I could feel the heat in my cheeks and knew I was blushing a deep shade of red. I wasn't one who took compliments very well – and no one had ever really said such a thing to me before. Honestly, I didn't believe I could actually do it. And since no one told me otherwise, it just sort of became fact in my head. I had always prided myself on not needing a cheering section, but in truth, not having one, not having that person who stood behind you and said, “you can do it,” made me believe I couldn't actually do it. Without somebody to reverse my own hypercritical self-evaluation, I'd always just assumed that I couldn't.

  “Thank you,” was all I could mutter. “I think I'm going to try and sleep now.”

  That last part was a lie. Honestly, I just needed to step away from Jendrish. I didn't know how to deal with compliments, especially coming from somebody I didn't know. I still wasn't sure I could trust him yet.

  I wanted to like him so badly. Wanted to believe that he really was the genuinely good guy he came across as. But my ability to read people was all skewed, because once upon a time, I'd thought Mike was a good guy too. So, not only was I not sure I could trust Jendrish, I honestly wasn't sure I could trust myself, either.

  “Good night, Riley,” he said, his voice like an echo floating on the currents of air behind me. “Sleep well.”

  Chapter Two

  The other women were curled up together, sharing a few blankets between them. Most all of them were huddled close together, perhaps partly for comfort, perhaps partly for safety and the feeling of security.

  As I walked back through the room, stepping over and around the sleeping forms, I could see that only a couple were actually sleeping, judging by the looks of it. Others stared at me – a few of them like I was an alien myself – as I entered. Their eyes were wide, some of them red and puffy from crying, most all of them unable to sleep.

  Not that I could blame them – I was in the same boat as they were. All of this was terrifying and strange. And not all of them had the sense of wonder I had in looking out the window and seeing the vastness of the universe all around us.

  But my heart was filled with sympathy for them. Everybody was exhausted, terrified, and emotionally wrung out from the ordeal. I wished I could convince them all to get some sleep. According to Jendrish, we were in for a long trip home, but I knew that sleep seemed impossible. Our minds were too busy trying to process it all and the horrors of what we'd experienced were all still too fresh.

  Charlotte stared back at me from the floor, her big, blue eyes wide. “What did he say?” she whispered.

  I joined her on the floor and gave her a small smile. “What do you mean?”

  “What did you guys talk about? Did he tell you why he saved us?”

  “He did,” I said with a sigh.

  “And?”

  “And he said that he rescued us all because it was the right thing to do.”

  Charlotte looked at me with eyes that were narrowed and an expression that could only be described as – skeptical. Sadly, you met very few knights in shining armor these days. Chivalry and the idea of doing something good just for the sake of doing it seemed like antiquated concepts. Ideals that were long outdated.

  Anymore, most men simply wanted something from women like us. It was beyond difficult to believe that somebody like Jendrish would just come sweeping in to rescue a horde of helpless women out of the goodness of their hearts. At least, it was beyond difficult to believe for a skeptic like me since tough times seemed to the norm. I didn't run across very many altruistic men.

  “Huh. You know?” Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow. “I almost believe him too. He's just so convincing and believable.”

  Sadly, I believed him too. Or at least, I wanted to believe. But what did I know? Though I was good at reading people in general, I'd always had some seriously bad blind spots when it came to reading men. That was why I'd let myself fall for a sadistic, manipulative asshole like Mike in the first place – which is one reason my whole life was a goddamn train wreck.

  And it was most certainly why I could never fully and truly trust men.

  My eyes were growing heavy, but there was no way I wanted to sleep. I felt the need to keep watch, just in case this were all a trap of some sort. I couldn’t adequately explain why, but I felt an overwhelming responsibility to these women. I felt like it was my job to keep them safe.

  It was ridiculous, of course. There was no way I could do anything to ensure their safety. Despite that though, I still carried around that burden of responsibility on my own shoulders.

  “So tell me about yourself, Charlotte?” I asked, just to break the tension inherent in the silence between us. “Do you have any family? A boyfriend back home, maybe?”

  Charlotte was quiet for a few moments before looking at me and simply answering, “No.”

  “None of the above?” I asked.<
br />
  “Nope,” she said. “It's just me.”

  I found that hard to believe. A pretty, peppy Southern girl like her didn't have a boyfriend? Impossible.

  She continued. “My father abused me growing up, my mom walked out on us when I was three. I have an older brother, but he turned out just like dad and I cut my losses years ago,” she said, the bitterness in her voice apparent. “And men? Screw them. I can't bring myself to think about sleeping with a man after the shit my father did to me.”

  I could hear the emotion in her voice long before I saw the tears. She didn't have to go into too much detail, I knew exactly what she meant. Not that I'd experienced anything like that in my own background. Back when they were alive, things had been pretty good. But then they'd died and my life had fallen to shit. Not to the level Charlotte was talking about perhaps, but I'd been around enough to know the awful things people did to one another. It was as disheartening as it was disgusting.

  “I'm sorry, Charlotte,” I said, holding her hand and giving it a good squeeze. “I'm so sorry.”

  She wiped away the tears and put a smile on her sweet face. Despite everything going on, she managed to keep smiling. Only now that she'd shared a bit about herself, I knew it was an act. A protective device. It was like she wore her smile like an invisibility cloak – that magnificent smile masked the real darkness that lurked just beneath the surface. That was something I could relate to very, very well. I knew that deep down, this woman – like so many of us – had been hurt by the ones we loved the most. The ones who were supposed to care for us.

  “What about you?” she asked me. “I'd like to hear about your life, Riley – and stop thinking about mine for a bit, if that's okay?”

  I barked a dry, sarcastic laugh. “My story isn't a whole lot better, I'm afraid,” I said. “Given some of the similarities, I tend to think that it wouldn't take your mind off your life all that much.”

  “I get that we're all like that,” she said. “All of us have been tossed aside, used, abused, degraded, and humiliated. But that's okay. It really is. Because we're also survivors, Riley. So tell me, what did you survive?”

  Though young, this girl was wise beyond her years. She'd probably seen and experienced so much, and had been forced to grow up too fast. When I looked into her eyes, I could see that although they remained bright and shiny, there was a darkness lurking beneath the surface. A haunted look. It was just the sort of thing a girl her age should never have to experience.

  As I looked at her, I felt a lump form in my throat. My life and everything that had happened in it, wasn't something I'd talked about to anyone before. It was never conversational fodder. But if I were to actually open up and talk about it, this would probably be the time and place. Hell, we were like a built in support group for all the lonely women of the world – right here in outer space.

  I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again without saying a word. I looked at Charlotte who sat patiently and waited for me to say something. To invite her into my life. To share my own experiences with her so that maybe, she would not feel so all alone. I didn't share my life with anybody. It wasn't there business or their concern.

  Ninety-nine percent of the people probably couldn't relate. But looking into Charlotte's eyes, I knew she'd been where I was – just as I'd known that Charlotte was in a place where she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of sharing either. She'd gone out on a limb by sharing what she'd shared with me. And now she was looking for a little reciprocation from me.

  “Well, my parents died when I was young,” I said. “A car accident. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, but they were a bit – delusional. They were strict. Really tough on me at times.”

  They were actually religious zealots who felt the need to control every little thing I did. And if I didn't obey or I dared use the wrong word in their presence, I was punished harshly for it. But that seemed to be more information than I needed to give. Delusional about covered it, because they were. They thought they could control every aspect of my life and being – and somehow turn me into a Godly person. Which was something that always struck me as a bit odd and hypocritical given that the their idea of Godliness had nothing to do with actual Christianity as most people know it.

  But I didn't know Charlotte's religious beliefs and didn't want to offend her or get into a sensitive subject with her right then, so I avoided that bit. Besides, she wanted to know my story and my story didn't officially begin until after I left their household.

  “I was seventeen years old when I ran away,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I'd met a guy on the internet and he seemed like a really great guy. Kind of a Prince Charming type. We talked on the phone and he promised me the world, as they often do. But he seemed like everything I'd ever wanted in a man. Or at least, what I imagined I wanted in a man. But Mike wasn't the man I'd gotten to know online. He was much different in real life and he certainly wasn't a Prince Charming type after all. The things he did to me... ”

  I trailed off, unable to continue. I hated crying in front of anyone, and yet, there I was, in tears. Just thinking back on everything that had happened, everything Mike had done to me filled me with more emotion than I could deal with at the moment. I remembered how it started off with the mental abuse – the tear downs, the insults, the demands. And then when I talked back or stood up for myself, the abuse turned physical. It started small at first and always seemed like accidents. But eventually I couldn't lie to myself anymore. Mike was beating me.

  “Shhh, I'm sorry, honey,” Charlotte said as she wrapped her arms around me. “I shouldn't have asked.”

  “It's fine,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I mean, we've all been to hell and back, right? That's why we're here.”

  “It sounds like it,” she said softly.

  “And we're survivors, like you said. And we're going to keep on surviving, right?”

  “That's right, honey,” she said, smiling back at me with tears in her blue eyes. “We're going to keep on surviving.”

  Chapter Three

  Jendrish

  I checked the controls and made sure the proper course was laid in before heading to bed myself. We were on track to reach Earth quicker than I had initially thought, and I'd need to start figuring out a plan. Earth was a large planet, and I had no idea where any of these women came from. And even less of an idea of where they needed to be returned. I needed some answers. But I also didn't want to disturb any of the women right now. They needed to rest.

  As did I. But I couldn't manage to shut my brain off, no matter how hard I tried.

  How could my people do that to other living beings? Humans may be different from us, but they weren't all that different. Had my father been alive, I knew he'd have been with me. He would have joined my outrage and disgust. And I would like to believe he would have been with me in taking action to right that terrible wrong.

  But going against my own people like that put a target on my back, I was sure. But there's no way I could have let that go on. Like Tarkonil, I couldn't sit by and do nothing, say nothing when such an egregiously horrible practice was taking place on my home world. We were better than that.

  Or at least, at one time, I thought we were.

  I clicked over to the surveillance camera to check on the women. Most of them were sleeping, but I could hear a voice. Somebody back there was talking. It was the young girl I'd heard called Charlotte – at least, that's what I thought some of the other human women called her – and Riley speaking with one another. They were speaking softly, but my sensors picked them up all the same.

  And what I heard them saying – let's just say, I wasn't likely to be all that surprised by anything after what I'd seen earlier. But to hear their stories, to know the suffering they went through – it hurt me more than I could explain. No one deserved to go through that. Nobody should have to endure what they'd had to endure.

  I listened until the conversation stopped, feelin
g even more determined to help give these women their lives back. Once it grew quiet and they stopped talking, I shut off the cameras and considered laying down when my sensors alerted me to someone standing outside my cock pit door.

  Turning on the camera, I saw Riley standing there. Just standing there, as if she was considering knocking but hadn't quite worked up the nerve to do it just yet. She pushed her hair behind her ear and stared at my door before shaking her head and turning around, as if to leave. I quickly punched the button and spoke to her through the computer system.

  “Is everything okay, Riley?” I asked. “Did you need to see me?”

  She stopped dead in her tracks, as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. But she turned to the camera once more, without meaning to I was sure, and hesitated before speaking.

  “It's okay,” she said. “I just can't sleep so I'm walking around. I – I wasn't sure where this door led.”

  I pressed another button and the door opened with a soft whooshing sound.

  “I can't sleep either,” I said. “Care for some company?”

  “I – uhh, well... ” She trailed off, scratching her head and looking around as if she was trying to find a way out of a sudden predicament. “Sure. I guess so.”

  “You don't have to,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “You can continue wandering the ship all night, if you'd prefer. You're welcome to go anywhere you'd like.”

  But she surprised me by walking in and taking a seat next to me instead. She stared down at the controls in front of her before she turned and looked out the large window that gave her a dramatic view of the galaxy. Her eyes grew wide and she reached out, grabbing my hand as if to steady herself. Her skin was warm and soft. It was smooth and had a pleasant feel. Riley quickly pulled her hand away as she realized what she'd done.

 

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