by Sabrina Kade
Dolan grunts. “It’s safe. Look around you. Not bad, yes?”
I frown, and take a look around, expecting my anxiety to rise. But it’s not bad. The weather is less humid out here, and the trees (or as Dolan calls them, ‘talas’) provide a decent amount of shade. I’m also surprised that I don’t catch the sounds of any animals moving about the foliage. I remember hearing Phoebe talking about something called… well, I can’t remember, but she said it was the creepiest sound she ever heard — a cross between a howler monkey on cocaine.
“It’s not bad.”
“Good. I will set up here for the night, and when the suns rise, we will make the rest of the trip. Is that all right? I do not enjoy traveling in the darkness.”
“Because of animals?” I guess.
He fixes me with a tired expression. “No.”
I guess that’s that. Dolan sets up a bright white tent-like shelter for the rest of the evening, and I can’t help noticing it again. Dolan isn’t acting like himself. He’s slumping, and no matter how much I try to cheer him up, it’s like my words don’t quite reach him. Do aliens need naps? Because it sure as shit looks like that’s what Dolan needs right about now.
I can’t help pouting.
I was hoping this trip would bring us closer. York and Ellis certainly got closer to their alien’s when they were away from the lair, but for the first time, Dolan doesn’t look interested in me in the slightest. Maybe he’s realized that my weight, while visually appealing, can be a hindrance for traveling. But thinking about it again, it’s not like I couldn’t keep up with him. If anything, he was having a more difficult time traversing through the elements.
My lips burn to ask if he’s all right or if there’s anything I can do to help, but he’s a man on a mission. Setting up a shelter faster than I would have thought possible, he works at a consistent pace. He pushes himself; he slumps, he works hard, he slumps again, works hard.
Something isn’t right.
“Dolan?”
“Yes?”
“Are you… I mean… is everything okay?”
“Is there a reason it shouldn’t be?” He hisses under his breath and at last, he huffs and presents the shelter. “I did not see a reason to bring two shelters. There is plenty of room in this one, and if my enormous oaf of an older brother can become comfortable in one, it should not be a problem for us.” He inhales sharply, and he’s back to his normal self, chest puffed out and smirking. “I am your mate, after all. It is only natural that we sleep together for the evening.”
My expression drops. “Wait. You want us to sleep together? In that?”
The shelter, while nice and clean, is so tiny that I can barely fathom crawling in there with Dolan. Momentarily, I consider sleeping outside on the ground, but of course, there’s no actual chance of me doing that. Resigned to my fate, I crawl inside the space first, annoyed to find that it’s warm and muggy like the damn lairs back home.
Ugh. Not back home. Back at the lairs. My home is on Earth.
Dolan eases his way into the space, grinning as he closes the flap behind him. “Ahh, it feels much better in here, yes?”
“No,” I say immediately. “It’s hot in here. Humid. Like back in the Gathering Room.”
“That is bad?”
“Yes, that’s bad.” I flop back on the ground and stare up at the ceiling of the shelter. “I was hoping to get a break from all this heat and humidity. But honestly, in here, it’s almost stuffier than back at Prince Korben’s set up.”
A face appears overhead. Dolan looks contemplative. “Are you saying that you do not enjoy the heat?”
“Not this much. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly built for heat. Some women may glow, but not me. I sweat. Through and through.” To prove my point, I swipe across my brow and hold my glistening fingers up to Dolan’s interested face. “You see this? That’s the sweat of a woman who needs to work out more. Maybe that way I wouldn’t—” The rest of my sentence dies in my throat as Dolan brings my fingers between his lips and sucks off the sweat. Dumbfounded, I can’t find a single insult to hurl at him.
He moans. “I think you taste lovely. And your body?” He leans over me slightly, his stomach brushing up against mine, “I will not hear you speak unkindly about it. I like your shape. I like your breasts.” Grinning, he brushes his fingers against my nipples that harden immediately under his touch. “They are full and ample.” I try not to blush as his fingers dip lower, touching the curve of my underbelly. “I think your stomach is also wonderful. Soft and…”
“Fluffy?” I dare.
He beams. “Fluffy. I like that. My mate is fluffy.”
“Not your mate, Dolan.” I’m barely able to get the words out as he continues to explore the soft, supple parts of my body. No man has ever looked at me this like. No man has ever called my ample body anything other than that. Dolan doesn’t mind the word fluffy. He likes my curves. He works his way down as I stare up at him as he brushes curious hands over my hips, under my ass, and across my thighs.
“You will be.”
I resist the urge to snarl. How did I ever think Dolan wasn’t acting like his usual self? Through his careful search, however, I still can’t forget what he said earlier. He asked if I liked the cold. He seemed so interested in my answer. Does that mean something to him? I suck in a gasp as Dolan’s face appears in my vision once again.
“Your body is unbelievable, Layla,” he says thickly.
I dare to flirt. “Yours isn’t terrible to look at either.”
“Oh? What do you like?”
“What do I like?” I squeak.
He nods. “I have told you many things I like about you. I want to know what my Chosen likes about me.”
“Dolan…” I can’t resist rolling my eyes and rising on my elbows. “I’m not your Chosen.”
“Why? You say there is no one else, yes?”
“Of course there’s no one else.”
“And you gave me the pleasure hug.”
“That…” I frown. I’m never going to live that one down. I stare hard at Dolan, trying to remember all the reasons why I can’t be with him. I can’t use my body as an excuse. I can’t use Exer as an excuse. And I can’t use the idea of being trapped in a cage as an excuse. So what else is there? What am I holding on to?
I’m afraid of betraying Shep.
For some reason, I can’t fathom being happy with Dolan knowing that I could do more to help my little brother. It’s not about the money getting back to him. It’s not about my father saving enough to get Shep better medication or possibly elective surgery to repair whatever’s wrong with his brain. It’s that if I stay here, then I’m not working. And if I’m not working, there’s no chance of saving Shep.
That would mean the end of that part of my life.
I would have to accept the facts truly. My father sold me to aliens for medical credits. I signed the papers because I was in shock and had no idea what to expect. My father said I was doing this for Shep, but the aliens who took me away from home had a completely different story. I didn’t know which one to hold on to.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to my brother. He’s the reason I’m here, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Shep’s the reason I’m convinced I would do this all over again. For the chance of saving him.
“We should go to sleep, Dolan.” I hate that I’m such a coward, but these are the only words I find appropriate for this moment. I’m not ready to bare my soul, and if Dolan keeps touching me, I’m going to bare something much more intimate. I roll away, making sure not to give him any ideas that I’m up to anything else.
I close my eyes.
I really, really don’t like myself right now.
***
Dolan is quieter than ever as we continue our trek the following morning. I can tell he’s in a foul mood, and I don’t need to be York to figure out why. He’s pissed that he touched me last night but nothing else happened. He’s pissed I went to
sleep right before a soul-baring conversation started because I’m a fucking coward.
There’s also something else bothering him, though. I don’t know what it is, but as soon as the shelter was packed and we’re walking in the same direction as yesterday, Dolan’s all slumpy and grumpy again.
I wish I had the courage to tell Dolan that despite hating how the way things ended last night, I didn’t have any nightmares. I don’t think there’s anyone I can thank other than him.
This good-looking ripped alien thinks my soft, curvy body is nothing to be ashamed of. I smile goofily and jog to catch up to him, realizing that I’ve fallen inside my head again. My lips part to thank him when a familiar sound pierces my ears.
Rushing water. The waterfalls.
“Are we close?” Dolan pierces me with an unreadable look as he glances over his shoulder after my question. I want to wince back, but I’m too excited. I know this sound. It reminds me of home. Almost like ocean waves, though I haven’t been to a beach in years. Shep was never allowed near the water without a social worker, and we couldn’t afford the extra expense. Despite Dolan’s annoyed look, I move closer to him, linking my arm through his in what I hope is a subtle apology for last night.
He doesn’t react to my touch.
“The air is cool.”
My eyes widen. Is he serious? The air is no longer muggy and stifling, and as much as I want to pull away from Dolan and sprint toward the sound of the cascading falls, I stay by his side. I fucked up last night. I realize this. I shouldn’t have gone to sleep, and I shouldn’t have let him touch me like that unless I planned on doing something in return. It’s terrible because, though I promised myself I wouldn’t use Dolan any more, not even twenty-four hours passed before I’m doing it all over again.
We continue our trek, and I’m relieved when Dolan doesn’t pull away from me. But he’s moving slower. He’s slumping again. More so than usual. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but I guess there’s only one way to find out.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I told you. The air is chilled.” He coughs, using his free hand to rub across his chest, which I realize now is not exposed like always. He’s wearing fabric over it that can only be described as a silky looking tank top. I narrow my eyes, trying to feel Dolan out, but he barely glances my way, entirely focused on the task of getting us to the waterfall.
Then it hits me.
“Do you need to be around the heat all the time? Is this weather too cold for you?”
He stops, frowning, and when I also freeze up by his side, I see the waterfall in the distance. An orgasm of watercolor filled with color and light. A moving rainbow. It’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen, but I can’t pull away from Dolan.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re cold? This weather, while it’s okay for me, it’s making you…” I trail off, hoping Dolan will fill in the gap, but he only stares into the distance. I wish I were taller. I could force him to look at me. Down here in normal-female-height-zone, there’s not much I can do. Luckily, the sound of tumbling water fills the silence and knowing that, I dare to bring my attention back to the waterfall once again.
The jagged rock mountains that frame the water are a dark pink or lavender, looking more like something out of an artist’s imagination rather than the true summit of a planet. The water is water like on Earth, of course, but the color isn’t quite right because the rocks aren’t the same colors as the ones back home. Instead of clear looking liquid, when the sun hit the rocks, the water almost looks like pink lemonade Kool-Aid. Oh yeah.
“It’s unbelievable,” I say softly. “I’m surprised more of you don’t come out here.”
He doesn’t answer. The silence is so uncomfortable; I’m squirming. What can I say or do to bring Dolan back to his usual self, mainly if the cold affects him like this? His behavior doesn’t add up. Other Sidyths go beyond the second triss, but I’ve never heard about anything like this.
Sidyths like the sun. Sidyths don’t like rain. I get all of that, but for the cold to bother them this much? It’s actually kind of shocking.
And so, knowing that I don’t have much of a choice, I decide on the only thing that will work.
“I’m sorry.”
Finally, Dolan stiffens. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything.” I shake my head, refusing to crawl back into my shell. I’ve cracked open the door, and now it’s time to let in the flood. “Last night, I was scared. Not of you, but other things.”
“Other things?”
“Reasons why I can’t be your mate. Or at least, reasons I thought meant I couldn’t be your mate.” When Dolan’s lips part, I hold up my free hand. “Please, let me get this out, while I’ve got some courage, okay?” He nods. I take in another deep breath. “I mentioned before that I had a little brother. Shep.” I lick my lips. “He’s only three years younger than me, but he was always like a little kid. A furious little kid. My brother had ODD.”
Dolan leans in closer. “He was strange? This is what odd means, yes?”
I cough out a laugh. “Oh! Yeah, but that’s not what I mean. ODD is an acronym for his condition. Oppositional Defiance Disorder. There’s a lot of definitions for it, but the only thing you need to know is that it made my brother mad. Really mad. So mad that he had difficulty controlling his anger no matter who tried to help him.”
Dolan nods again. “Layla, I do not mean to interrupt your tale, but is it possible for us to move somewhere else? I find it difficult to breathe here so close to the cold water.”
Confusion blankets my expression, but I don’t say anything until he leads me to a flat rock and the waterfall is much quieter. We both lower our packs to the ground and take a seat, facing each other. Dolan reaches out and cups my knee, squeezing it gently.
“Please continue, Layla.”
I shudder at the softness and kindness in his voice. The boisterous, enthusiastic, loud and overbearing Dolan is gone. Maybe it’s because of me. Maybe it’s because of my story. Maybe it’s how the cold weather weakens him. Maybe it’s all three. I swallow hard.
“Shep was an angry kid, but he listened to me most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” He arches a curious eyebrow, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes, when other adults couldn’t calm him down, they would bring me in to try. My dad told the schools to always call for me first instead of him. My dad had a temper too, so the two of them always clashed. But I tried to be the calm, dependable one, and it worked most of the time. Shep, even crazed, listened to me. Sometimes, he would see me coming toward his classroom, and he would go from a ten to a four.”
“Ten? Four?” Dolan’s eyebrows knit together.
“Just numbers the school would use to gauge his anger. Ten was the highest. Ten meant that I needed to calm him down. One meant he was sitting quietly in the classroom.” I shrug. “I didn’t always need to go in his classroom, is what I’m trying to say. And all my teachers were cool with it. So long as Shep was basically under control and listened to someone as a final voice, there wasn’t much to fuss about.”
“But you said earlier that he listened most of the time.” He’s completely focused on this simple fact. Maybe he doesn’t understand most of what I’m saying. Maybe most of it doesn’t matter. “I am afraid I do not understand the anger of humans. Is this a special type of anger? Because, many sprogs have tempers because of their youth, but you make it sound as though your brother was dangerous.”
“He was.” I shake my head, hating that the words so easily left my lips but now that they have, I can’t take them back, and it’s not like they aren’t true anyhow. “Shep’s condition, ODD, requires a special type of medication to keep him relatively under control. The medicine is not cheap. For a long while, my father’s insurance covered the cost, but when his policy updated, we couldn’t afford the upfront cost.” I flash my attention up to Dolan.
“Basically, we couldn’t afford the medicine anymore.”
He doesn’t understand. “But your brother needed this medicine to stay safe, yes?” I nod. “And you could not afford it?” I shake my head. “But surely, there must have been a way. Did you speak to other humans?”
I bark out a laugh. “No one has that kind of money to spend on a kid who isn’t their own, Dolan. Humans aren’t usually so kind, and even if they were, they sure as hell didn’t care about Shep’s condition. Some doctors said his problem had nothing to do with his condition, and that he was only an angry kid who needed more discipline at home.” I shake my head. “That was my father’s insurance required children’s physician. He was a fucking ass. A lot of kids lost their medication that year.” I drag my hand down my face, trying not to focus too much on painful memories that can’t be changed. Dolan doesn’t understand most of what I’m saying, anyway.
“And so,” I continue, “without Shep’s medication, he started to lose control more and more often at school. It got pretty bad. With each medication they tried on him to replace the old one, there would be an adjustment period. And then it would become clear that the medication didn’t work. Then he needed time to wean off the medication and then he’d need a new one. It was a nasty cycle. I think I spent more time in his classroom those last few months he was in school than I spent in my own.”
“I’m afraid I do not understand most of your words,” Dolan admits. “These memories give you pain, I see, but you are not his mother. You should not have to spend time in his, uh, school. This is education, yes?” I nod, and he hums thoughtfully. “Azan was the same way. He worried about me, but he was never the same as a parent. I am sure your Shep felt the same way, yes?”
“No one could get through to him those last few months.” I sniff hard, knowing this is the most painful part of my story. “He grew more and more violent, and after a while, they kicked Shep out of school. My father told them that he was pulling me too, and he’d find some other place to put us. He yelled at me the whole way home. It was awful. And after he dropped Shep and me back home, we didn’t see him. He disappeared for almost a week.”