Chapter 12 #2
“Mum’s boyfriend at the time had just made her quit her job,” I explain uncomfortably.
I’ve never told anyone this before, but I definitely owe Harlee and Briar an explanation for my crappy behavior.
“Brian promised he’d look after us, and he kept going on and on about how she didn’t have to work anymore because he was the new man of the house, and it was his job to provide for us.
It was so obvious he was full of bullshit, but she believed him.
” I look down at my hands. “After that, whenever he was stressed about money, he’d take his anger out on my mum.
The second time he hit her, she broke up with him, but it took her ages to find a new job.
The worst thing is that when the next guy came along, she fell for it all over again.
So I promised myself that I’d never give up on my dreams for any man.
Not even if he was the love of my life.”
“And, um…” Briar clears her throat. “Is Killan—” She stops abruptly.
I’m not looking, but if I had to guess, I’d say Harlee must have kicked Briar under the table.
“It was so easy to fall in love with Lucas,” I continue.
“Sorry, what now?” Briar demands. If Harlee kicks her a second time, it doesn’t slow her down. “Lucas? You haven’t mentioned a Lucas before. Who’s he?”
“I didn’t want to talk about him in front of the cameras.” Which is the truth for why I didn’t mention him during filming. And after filming…I guess I didn’t want to talk about my failed relationship when Harlee and Briar were so happy in their new relationships.
“Is Lucas the reason you want to return to Earth?” Harlee asks hesitantly, as if she’s afraid asking will cause me more hurt. “Is he the love of your life? Is that what you’re telling us?”
“How could he have been, when I would’ve had to give up my bakery to stay with him?”
We fall silent, thinking about that. It takes a couple of seconds for me to stop being so self-centered and realize I might’ve insulted them.
“I mean, I know you guys had to give up Earth and everything for Sorin and Roan, but…” I’m floundering at the bottom of the huge fucking hole I’ve dug for myself. “But, um, maybe it’s different because your mums weren’t like mine. I mean—"
“I gave up my design business for Roan,” Harlee interrupts before I can dig myself any deeper, thank God. “And I suppose that was a big deal, but it never felt big in comparison to my feelings for Roan. The two things don’t compare, at least not for me.”
“All I gave up was a ton of debt,” says Briar. “Staying was actually the smart thing to do in my case.”
I look between them, and they both smile at me.
“I’ve ruined the lives of too many other people to abandon my bakery.” Not even for Killan.
“We’ll get you home,” Briar promises.
“Thanks,” I say, even though I still don’t believe her. At least I’m not yelling anymore or throwing chairs.
Harlee squeezes my hand. “Killan wouldn’t let you miss your only chance to leave. If he thought the Freighter could get you home, he’d be the first person putting you on it.”
Would he? How can she be so sure? “I’m worried—”
There’s the sound of howling wind followed by a door closing, and then footsteps on the stairs. Roan appears, holding armfuls of crates and boxes piled so high he can hardly see where he’s stepping.
“Babe.” Harlee rushes over to him, taking the top box from the pile. Briar and I stand up too, but neither of us is quite tall enough to confidently take anything off the pile without knocking the lower items.
“Cargo,” Roan says, as if it wasn’t already obvious. “This stuff is for Killan’s kitchen, but there’s a lot more to come.”
“We can help carry stuff,” Briar says.
Roan shakes his head. “If you come outside, Sorin will blame me for not stopping you.”
“What’s wrong out there?” Harlee asks. “Why is everyone so tense all of a sudden?”
“Killan says Atakis is asking questions about you and Briar.” Roan piles the boxes by the door to the walk-in pantry and wraps his arms around his Mate. She snuggles close.
“What sorts of questions?” I ask.
“Where you come from. Who you are. Innocent enough, if you were not Human.” He kisses the top of Harlee’s head, his eyes narrowed in an uncharacteristic glare.
Such a look invites more questions than it answers, but he releases his fiancée and starts back up the stairs before I can ask anything else. “Got to get more boxes.”
“We can at least start unpacking these,” Harlee suggests.
None of the food looks like anything we have back on Earth, and most of it’s in packaging designed to keep it fresh for a long time. There’s no flour or yeast. There are no sour cherries, and there’s definitely no butter or lard.
Together, we start sorting everything into the pantry, trying to match Killan’s strict organization.
“Er, what’s this?” Briar asks, indicating the final crate. It’s larger than the others and had been at the bottom of Roan’s pile. There’s writing on the front, which we can’t read, and—
“That’s the LOVE GALAXY logo.” I point to the familiar heart with planet rings around the center.
We share a look. This can’t be good.
Briar rips it open and pulls out what looks like a baking sheet.
The box is filled with them. They’re metal, similar in size to a small poster, completely flat, about an eighth of an inch thick, and none of the edges have been cut straight.
Briar’s mouth drops open, and she turns the metal sheet around to face Harlee and me.
It’s Briar’s head and neck, printed in perfect clarity. I can see the individual strands of her copper-colored hair, and I could count her freckles.
I pull out the next metal sheet. One side is blank, but the other side is Briar’s shoulders and the top of her torso.
She’s wearing the green cocktail gown from when we were filming the introduction scene with the brothers.
It’s got a clip at the top, which fits into a small gap in the bottom of the first metal sheet, locking the two of them together.
“This is so much worse than fan mail,” Briar says, holding the printed cutout of herself beside her head so Harlee and I can compare the two.
“Mr. Smith must’ve had these made before he cancelled the show,” Harlee says, collecting the rest of Briar from the box. Under Briar is Harlee, and under Harlee is me.
“So creepy.” I study my face. The photo must have been taken early on the first day, because I’m wearing my professional smile—the one I haven’t bothered with since I found out we’d been abducted.
There are indentations under my eyes, despite my best efforts to cover them with concealer, which is the only indication that I’d recently been woken from my drug-induced sleep.
Not that I’d known it at the time. Actually…
I inspect my bare arms, and sure enough—there’s the red pinprick left over from the intravenous drip Smith and Chloe forced into me.
I drop the pieces of myself back into the box as if they burned me. Briar and Harlee follow suit, and we close the lid, stuffing it to the back of the pantry, as if it doesn’t exist.
“What were you saying?” Harlee asks as we traipse back into the main part of the kitchen. “Before. You’re worried about something?”
“Oh, yeah.” I flop into my seat. “It was just something Chloe said to me that’s been messing with my head. It’s nothing important.”
I’ve seen the way Killan looks at you. He doesn’t want you to leave.
“Chloe?” Briar mock-gags on the other woman’s name. “Why were you talking to her?”
I shrug. I’m going to sound insane if I say anything about suspecting Killan having feelings for me. I’m continually doubting myself as it is.
It’s not as if him saying that he doesn’t not like my company is a confession of love. It wouldn’t even translate to a four-star review on Google.
“Well, what’d she say?” Briar presses, her hatred of Chloe as transparent as window glass.
I wave a dismissive hand. “Something about Killan being wrong about the Guild. That it actually would be able to help us find Earth if we asked it to.”
“That’s got to be a lie,” Harlee agrees. “Roan has told me all about the Guild. It’s supposed to be the outer space version of police, but how are a few aliens possibly supposed to police entire galaxies?” She shakes her head. “No way can it know where every single planet is.”
“Agreed.” Briar bangs her fist against the palm of her other hand, a makeshift judge’s gavel. “Chloe’s the real bitch, and she was trying to manipulate you. Forget her.”
“You’re right. I know.” I straighten, stretching my back, as my thoughts take another U-turn to once again obsess about the Freighter parked outside, because I’ve suddenly remembered why the Crocodile Guy’s expression had looked familiar.
Smith used to look at Briar like that—like he wasn’t seeing a real person but a person-sized dollar sign.
No wonder Killan had sent Harlee and Briar away.
“I’ll be right back,” I mutter. “Bathroom.” And I hurry downstairs.
The door to Chloe’s bedroom is shut. No surprise there. But when I knock, she doesn’t answer.
“Chloe, please tell me you’re not planning something stupid,” I call, although not loud enough that my voice will carry back to the kitchen. “I don’t think hitchhiking on that Freighter is a good idea.”
Again, there’s no answer.
“Chloe? Are you there?” I reach for the handle, but surely I’m worrying for nothing. There’s no way she’ll be able to creep past Briar, Harlee, and me, or past the three brothers to get onto that spaceship. She’d be stupid to try. And Chloe might be nasty, but she isn’t stupid.