by Regine Abel
Never again… He won’t fool me ever again.
Horrible childhood or not, he couldn’t excuse this. Marcus and I also had a difficult childhood. That didn’t make me want to hurt people every time they upset me. William said Anton was a good guy. For a while, I thought so too. Not anymore. The floor’s metal plating squeaked against my skin as I crawled forward. The slick surface provided little grip and the muscles of my arms burned by the time I reached my dress. Putting it on became a challenge. Any attempt to sit up or fold my legs triggered precursor muscle spasms. To make matters worse, I felt dizzy and feverish.
I eventually managed to get into my dress but not the shoes. Walking in those stilettos guaranteed to pull on all the wrong muscles. I crawled to the door, dragging the shoes behind me. Using the door frame for support, I pulled myself onto my feet. Right on cue, a vicious cramp seized the back of my calf. I ground my teeth through it, flexing my leg and foot until it faded. Holding on to the wall, I limped my way to the lift. The corridor swirled around me and my stomach churned.
What’s wrong with me?
The ride up was quick, but crossing the large living area at the entrance of the penthouse would be a challenge. My legs were shaky. There were no walls to lean on between here and the other side of the room where a wide corridor led to the sleeping quarters. Furniture would have to do.
I began the slow journey down the three steps into the living area when I heard the lift chime behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see William who seemed just as stunned to see me. In no time, he realized my predicament. Closing the distance between us, he lifted me into his arms. I almost wept with gratitude. We entered the bedroom as Anton walked out of the bathroom, drying his chin as if he had just shaved.
My blood curdled. Would he consider William carrying me another offense? His expression went from shocked to seething. But it was William he glared at, not me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled.
“What you should have done,” William answered, leveling Anton with a cold stare.
I gawked at William. He carefully put me down on my pet cushion. I curled up in a ball while he pulled my blanket over me. My eyes remained on Anton who never looked my way. Once done, William turned to face Anton.
“My office,” Anton hissed, then walked out.
“Indeed,” William said, following in his wake.
I wanted to tell Anton not to be mad at William, but my eyes wouldn’t stay open.
CHAPTER 14
Anton
A million thoughts raced through my mind as I stormed into my office. How dare he carry her and care for her? William knew I was the only person with the clearance to disable the cage. If she was out and making her way back on her own, then he knew it was by my will. I went straight to the bar and poured myself a glass of brandy. The sound of the door closing echoed behind me. I tossed back my drink in one shot, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat.
“How dare you challenge me?” I asked, turning to face William.
The fury in his eyes rivaled mine.
What the hell has gotten into him?
“No, boy. The question is rather how dare you treat that sweet girl like that?”
What the hell?
I gaped at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. William hadn’t called me ‘boy’ in more than a decade.
“How I treat my property is none of your business.”
William snorted. “Property,” he muttered, shaking his head. “So an elder tells you your honor has been redeemed and you go into full Braxian mode?”
“I am Braxian.”
“No. You. Are. Not,” William said, his tone clipped. “You’re a half-breed. Remember who dragged your half-dead body away from the Braxians?”
I took a menacing step towards him. “Tread carefully, human.”
“Or what, boy?” he said, taking a step as well. “You’re going to use your superior strength to beat me within an inch of my life like the good Braxian you think you are?”
I flinched. Yes, that’s what a Braxian would do.
“Why the hell are you trying to provoke me?” I said, running my hand through my hair in frustration.
“I’m trying to stop you from being a fool. You have a sweet, gorgeous young woman who cares for you, and you keep treating her like shit.”
“She humiliated me!” I shouted.
“She did not. You felt insecure and jealous, so you punished her for it. Grace danced innocently with her best friend. She didn’t deserve this and you know it. That’s why you freed her early.”
I turned away, unable to withstand his accusing stare. Everything he said rung true.
I poured myself another drink. The amber liquid reminded me of Grace’s eyes. “You didn’t see it. The way they were whispering…”
“Marcus told her she should stay with you.”
I froze, my glass paused halfway to my mouth.
“She agreed and hoped you’d want to keep her permanently.”
My hand shook and alcohol sloshed onto my shoes. I put down my glass. How could that be true? Girls like her didn’t like guys like me, only my wallet.
“You don’t know that,” I whispered. “You weren’t even there.”
“Seriously, Anton?” William asked. “I talked with Grace this morning when I brought her water.”
“Ah,” I snorted, understanding at last. I tried to hide my disappointment. “So she sweet-talked you into thinking she liked me and you bought it.”
“No, you stupid boy,” William said. “I’m your Head of Security, remember? Who the fuck do you think set up the surveillance system throughout the Hive?”
Oh right… I picked up my glass and swallowed its contents.
“After talking with her, I spent the past hour getting the footage from Risqué and cleaning up all the noise. There are two videos in your inbox you’ll find mighty interesting.”
I frowned. “Two?”
“Yes,” William said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Why don’t you go have a look? It’s quite revealing.”
I walked around my desk and sat down. After locating the files, I launched the first video to display on the vidscreen on the wall. A recording of Grace and I dancing at Risqué appeared on screen. My stomach clenched.
“Do you see how she holds you? How she looks at you like you are the most wonderful thing she’s ever beheld?” William said. “The best is yet to come. Wait for it.”
I knew what the best was. And a few seconds later, I watched the beautiful, tender yet passionate kiss she gave me.
“That’s genuine,” William said, pointing at the screen. “You’ve found yourself a girl who sincerely cares for you. And what do you do? Torture her and drive her away over some stupid culture that never even accepted you, to begin with.”
He had made his point. “Enough.”
“Yes, Anton. It’s enough.” William strolled over and placed his hands on my desk, his eyes boring into me. “We’ve been friends a long time. I’ve never told you what to do or meddled in your affairs. But this time, you need to wake up. You deserve a bit of happiness. Even now, light years away, Braxia is still fucking with your life. Let it go. Stop giving them power over you. Stop allowing them to twist you. You’re a better man than this. They need you. It’s time you start setting the rules rather than following theirs.”
Pushing himself up and away from the desk, William marched out of my office, closing the door quietly behind him. I rubbed my hands over my face. How did it get so complicated? This wasn’t the first time William hinted I should sever my ties with Braxia, but he had never been this blunt before.
I couldn’t do it. I would need to renounce my clan, relinquishing the only thread still linking me to my roots. A man without a clan was a man without honor – a nothing, a nobody, a disgrace. Granted, they would never embrace me, but at least now they accepted me. They needed me. And through me, the man by whose mercy I got to live no lo
nger led a second-rate clan but one of the most powerful on Braxia.
My eyes strayed towards my computer. The second file beckoned me. I knew what it contained. William wouldn’t lie. Yet, I needed to hear it from her own lips. As the recording played through Grace’s and Marcus’ conversation, the knot of guilt and shame twisted and roiled with renewed intensity.
“He makes me want to be better.”
What she didn’t realize was that she was doing the same for me. Grace made me question things I always accepted as normal because that was what Braxians did. However, hurting teenage girls so savagely over wounded pride wasn’t right. Brutalizing her the way I had over that same barbaric code of honor was madness. That thought had tormented me for the past two weeks.
“I love when he’s affectionate like that. It makes me want to stay with him forever.”
Those words played in a loop in my head. I wanted her to stay with me forever, but she no doubt expected it to be as my mate. The clan wouldn’t accept it. You didn’t mate with human females, you only owned them. And they wouldn’t allow me to have male offspring. I would be expected to kill my sons, and if I didn’t, they would hunt them down. A picture of Grace’s belly swollen with my child sprung to mind. I almost choked with emotion.
Braxians could only mate and reproduce with Braxian females. As a half-breed, I couldn’t sully our females with my weaker seed or further taint my clan’s gene pool by having offspring of my own. In other words, I couldn’t have a future – no mate, no children. If I had daughters, they would become entertainment for any male within the clan. That was complete shit.
So why do I subject myself to this?
Because I was Braxian and that was our way. And above all, because I owed my father too much and swore never to shame the clan ever again.
Blocking those thoughts, I replayed the recording of Grace and me dancing in a loop.
* * *
The delegation would arrive within the hour. Catering to that piece of shit Gerwin and his minions was the last thing I needed. They would expect to see Grace attending me. That was going to be fun news to break to her. I hadn’t seen her since this morning’s fiasco. The one time I worked up the courage to go check on her, she had been asleep. It surprised me considering how active she normally was. My steps were heavy and reluctant on the way to our bedroom. I expected to find her watching those recordings Romero made her study. Instead, she was still sleeping, curled up on her cushion, her back to me. Worry coiled and writhed all over my skin – something was wrong.
“Grace?” I called out, rushing over.
She stirred but didn’t turn. Crouching, I pulled down the warm blanket obscuring her face. Her cheeks looked flushed and sweat beaded her brow.
I touched her skin. “Fuck.”
Using my personal com, I called William. “Get Dr. Farland here ASAP. Grace is burning with fever. She’s lethargic and struggling to breathe.”
“On it,” William said.
I carried her to the bathroom and started filling the tub with cold water while undressing her. She put up a bit of a struggle after I submerged her. Her movements were sluggish and she mumbled incoherent words. My mind raced, trying to figure out what could have happened to make her this ill so quickly. Was it because of something I did? Had the punishment caused her illness? I crushed the fear blossoming in the pit of my stomach that this was something serious. Whatever the future might have in store for us, I needed Grace in mine.
Someone knocked on the bedroom door.
“Come in,” I shouted.
I heard Dr. Farland’s light footsteps approaching. William shadowed him, carrying a heavy medical bag.
“Hello, Mr. Myers,” Dr. Farland said, walking in.
“She slept all day, which was strange,” I said. Now wasn’t time for niceties. The doctor crouched in front of the tub to have a look at her. “When I came to check up on her a few minutes ago, I found her in this state.”
Farland checked her temperature then took some blood samples. He ran them through a portable analyzer.
“Please take her out of the water and to the bed so I can perform a proper exam,” he said.
I lifted her out of the bath. Cold water dripped down my arms and soaked my chest. William handed me a thick towel and I wrapped her as best I could. He stepped out of the room to give her privacy but not before giving me a look that fueled my festering guilt.
Farland fluttered about Grace while performing his exam.
“Please turn her on her side and fold her legs,” he said, pulling out a vicious looking needle. “I need to perform a spinal tap.”
“Why? What do you think is wrong with her?” I said, worry gnawing at me.
“Based on her current symptoms, the speed at which they manifested and the preliminary blood tests I’ve just performed, I believe she has a case of bacterial meningitis. I will know for sure once I’ve analyzed her spinal fluids.”
I cringed while he inserted the needle at the base of her spine to draw out some fluids.
“Isn’t meningitis kind of serious? And I thought that disease was cured,” I said, holding Grace’s hand. They were cold and clammy.
“Meningitis is indeed serious and can be fatal if diagnosed too late,” Farland said while analyzing the sample. “You are correct that meningitis has been cured on most planets, mainly due to vaccination protocols. However, I understand this young lady grew up in an orphanage where medical care is minimal at best. It is doubtful she received even half the standard vaccines. Also, alien species have different mutations of the bacteria.”
Reading between the lines, I glowered at him. “What are you saying?”
The analyzer beeped. Dr. Farland nodded and rummaged in his medical bag, pulling out a hypospray and a box containing small vials of blue liquid.
“That she does indeed have bacterial meningitis, and that you more than likely gave it to her,” Farland said, matter of fact.
The expression on my face must have communicated that I was close to bashing his head against the wall.
“Please understand that almost everyone in the main civilized species carries the bacteria in the back of their throat or nose – including humans and Braxians,” Farland said, shifting on his feet. “Considering the nature of your relationship, you probably transferred it to her through a kiss in the past twenty-four hours. Sneezing or deep kissing are the most common methods of transfer. Had she been properly vaccinated, it wouldn’t have happened.”
I still wanted to punch him, but I felt too relieved to know her punishment wasn’t the direct cause of it.
But I would have noticed sooner without that damn punishment.
Plagued with remorse, I watched Farland inject her in the neck with a hypospray.
“I’m giving her antibiotics that will get rid of the infection. She should be coherent again in the next couple of hours. Here are five more doses,” Farland said, handing me the vials. “You must give her a dose every six hours.”
“Will she be okay?” I asked, trying to hide my concern.
“Yes, Mr. Myers. We got it early enough. There should be no lasting effects. But have her come see me the day after tomorrow for a check-up after she has taken the last dose. The good news is people rarely catch meningitis again once they’ve had it. But to be on the safe side, after she’s fully recovered, it would be advisable to get her up to date on all her vaccines.”
You better believe she will.
“Thank you, doctor,” I said, ready for him to leave me alone with Grace.
Getting my meaning, he nodded, grabbed his bag and walked out of the room. I ran my hand over Grace’s hair and softly kissed her damp forehead. Walking to the closet, I rummaged through her clothes. I grabbed a red silk nightgown to dress her in. Her breathing improved and the fever slowly dropped.
The Braxian delegation would be here in the next twenty minutes. Reluctant to leave Grace, I tried to come up with a valid excuse to postpone – in vain. I crawled on top of the
bed and gathered Grace into my arms. Her eyes fluttered but she merely sighed. I rested her head in the crook of my neck. Pulling the covers over us, I held her close for what little time remained.
* * *
We sat the living area to keep the meeting informal and, hopefully, short. Historically, Braxia’s wealth and economy mainly relied on hiring out our army. With our size, strength, and speed, Braxians were formidable on a battlefield. However, over the last century, the number of interplanetary armed conflicts significantly dwindled thanks to peace treaties negotiated by the Galactic Council.
The shift destabilized our nation’s fragile economy. Only a small fraction of our population had trade skills to adapt to changing times. Gerwin, Jarvis and Toran’s clans were among them. From their humbler status, their clans rose to the top of the economic ladder during the transition. Under my grandfather’s leadership, my own clan saw its status plummet from elite warrior clan to lesser farming clan, struggling to make ends meet on inadequate lands.
Under the new Magnar’s rule, fundamental changes were taking place in Braxia. He wanted to fix our broken economy by educating the population in non-traditional fields for our people – especially science and commerce – and increase the volume of outbound trades with neighboring planets. The success of my Hive Network had piqued the Magnar’s interest and he ‘strongly encouraged’ the elder clans to explore off-world ventures. As an ‘expert’ in that field, he expected me to provide whatever support I could. Needless to say, being mentored by a mutt didn’t sit well with Gerwin.
“I revised some of the proposals you put together,” I told Elder Pattel, under the watchful eyes of the three younger Braxians. “I’ve forwarded you a report for each with pros and cons to consider. There are a couple of them I might want to invest in, assuming certain adjustments are made. Once the stakeholders review them, we can arrange additional meetings.”
Elder Pattel sighed with relief, his shoulders relaxing; he didn’t want to return to the Magnar empty-handed. It was ironic that a ‘lesser being’ such as myself could make the call on which project to invest in.