Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Lauren
T hey are silent, so silent, and it is scaring me, but reassuring me at the same time. I feel all sorts of conflicted and I decide hiding is my best option for now. So I bury my face into the alien’s chest. He is warm and strong, somehow the combination makes me less scared than I know I should be.
They walk steadily but fast through the maze of corridors that is the space station. Where will we go? Do they live on this station? Or are they taking me to their ship?
I haven’t been on a ship in years. I think it has been years, but I haven’t been out in the sun or in possession of any kind of calendar. But I am very sure I have been with the whorehouse for a very, very long time. They weren’t my first owner, that man was a very scary psychotic alien. I shiver when I think about him, but put him in the box in my mind where all the bad things go. I mean, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to survive right ?
I hear the swirl of sliding doors and their boots echo on a metal landing dock. I guess I have my answer. Space ship it is. There is no time wasted once they’re inside. The one holding me sets me down on a couch, while somehow cradling me towards his chest. In the utter silence I hear the engine come to life. These guys don’t talk to each other. Could it be that they're communicating through telepathy? My translator picked up on their language at the station, so I can understand their spoken word. My curiosity beats my fear, and I look up to scan my surroundings.
The ship is sleek and all curves. There are three big chairs in front of a state of the art screen system. The controls are all black and shiny, but the rest of the ship is surprisingly light. Silver and white with a lot of windows. I look in the direction of the windows and I see… space… The ship must be very modern and expensive, because it hardly makes noise. This is not at all like the one that kidnapped me.
I look up at the male holding me, and he cups my face with his enormous hand and caresses my cheek with his thumb.
“I am D’Var,” he says. “What is your name, little one?”
I shuffle away from him as his hold on me loosens. The couch is curved somehow and I back up into the corner. I pull the cloak up, so it is covering all but my face. To my frustration, I start crying. It must be the adrenaline, and the fear.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
“Please," he says and he slowly moves closer to me.
I back into the corner even more and try to make myself as small as I can. I tighten my grip on the cloak.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says and his voice is raw with emotion. I blink at him.
“Please, you can trust me.”
I snort, trust him my ass. I have not been able to trust anybody ever since I woke up on a strange ship after being abducted from my home. But when I look at him more closely, I can see his shoulders slumping. He looks… defeated.
“What do you want from me?” I ask again. The big guy looks up and fixes his gaze on me again.
“I want to help you.” And he scoots even closer to me.
I am in full freak out mode now. I jump up, flattening myself against the wall. “Don’t come any closer,” I yell and I can hear my blood pumping through my body. My heart rate is skyhigh, and I have no idea how to get myself out of this predicament.
I almost feel bad about the look of utter devastation in D’Var’s eyes as he stands up and moves back. The ship must be on auto pilot now, because the other guys have turned around their chairs and are flanking him. The smaller one touches his shoulder, in an effort to comfort him, but D’Var lets out a tortured growl and then stalks away.
Inwardly cringing, I begin to shudder, mixed emotions flowing through me. This is not what I wanted! D’Var is leaving me alone with his two crew members and I have no idea what they want from me either. As much as D’Var’s touch and nearness freaked me out, the thought of him leaving me with the others freaks me out even more.
“WAIT!” I yell and he stops in his tracks.
“Please don’t leave me,” I whisper-cry and he walks right back towards me.
“Never,” he says gravely, he falls to his knees in front of the couch where I am slowly sliding back into a seated position. He is still towering over me, and I am still scared out of my mind but somehow, I feel calmer now that he is near. I inhale deeply and then I look into his eyes again when I exhale in a rush. He is so close I can see how the edges of his black eyes are almost sparkling. Like there’s a complete universe to discover there.
“What do you need, little one?” he asks me.
“I am not little,” I retort. He tugs up one corner of his mouth, giving me an almost smile.
“Then what do I call you? If you are not little.”
“Lauren,” I answer him, feeling very confused again.
“L’Ren,” he says, like he is trying out my name. I giggle.
“No, Lau-Ren,” I say, and he tries again but he swallows the ‘O’ sound. All that comes out is L’Ren again.
I give him a wobbly smile and for a moment I forget to hold tight to my cloak. As a result it slips over one of my shoulders.
“Are you hurt?” he asks me sharply. I blink. Am I hurt? I truly don’t know, I have not been in a position to think about things like that. I blink again, he is expecting an answer. I bite my lip.
“No,” I say, but it comes out more of a question. I am too afraid to look at him, afraid he’ll see the truth and consider me worthless. A broken toy is no fun, after all.
He pulls me up towards a standing position, and I hastily pull the cloak back up.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, while he tilts up my chin so I can look him in the eye. I stumble. “No,” I say again.
“No?” He growls and he pulls the cloak from my fingers. Gently he opens it. His big hands are so tender I forget to be scared when he peels it away from my fingers, gently caressing the bruises at my throat.
“Are you hurt here, L’Ren?”
I swallow. “Yes," I whisper, barely audible. He continues to the bruises on my chest and my upper arms, the cloak falling to the center of my back.
“Are you hurt here?”
I swallow again, and it gets hard to breathe. “Yes," I whisper. He puts my cloak back into place and caresses the side of my breasts, which are purple, blue and greenish.
“Are you hurt here?” he growls.
I nod, my throat can’t seem to form words at this point. He continues his examination of my bruises towards my sides, he examines my wrists, the question always “Are you hurt here?”
The answer is always “yes."
When he arrives at my inner thighs he is so, so gentle a tear escapes my eyes and finds its way down my cheek. His voice is thick with something I can’t explain.
“Are you hurt here?”
“Yes," I stumble. He then places his hand on my lower abdomen, above my pubic region.
“Are you hurt here?” he asks in a chocked voice.
Something inside me snaps and on a sob I say: “Yes," I take a deep breath and decide it’s now or never. “Also, the back…” I whisper silently but I know he heard me. He closes my cloak and then, he tugs me into his arms.
“I am so sorry, my Zarra, so sorry I did not find you earlier.”
Lost in the moment a soothing feeling flows through me. His touch is truly comforting me in ways I could not have ever expected.
“Let me help you L’Ren,” D’Var says and he looks at me. His voice sounds gruff.
“Let me care for you, let me heal you, let me help you recover. Let me protect you, let me keep you safe and make sure nothing can ever hurt you again. I will slay all your enemies and bring you their heads. Let me make sure that from now on, you will never know pain again. Only pleasure.”
And then, then I cry.