Guided by the Giant – Giants and Cyborgs Read Online Evangeline Anderson

Categories Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
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“So it’s a pattern of abuse.” Her boss spoke as though he was trying to get the facts straight. As he did, he kept concentrating on her wounded palm, which he was delicately gluing together with the tiny eye-dropper sized bottle of wound glue. It looked like a miniature prop from a doll house in his big hand.

“By now it’s the story of my life,” Molly said bleakly. “It seems like there’s nowhere on Earth I can get free of him. I thought I was so smart, landing a job on the Mother Ship,” she added sourly. “I was so careful to cover my tracks this time so he wouldn’t know where I was going. I was sure I was finally free of him and now just look…” She gestured with her unhurt hand. “Everything’s ruined all over again.” Her throat was getting thick and her eyes were stinging but she didn’t want to cry. “Ruined,” she repeated. “Completely ruined.”

“Nothing is ruined,” her boss said sternly, glancing up at her.

“Yes, it is!” Molly protested. “Because now you have to fire me because ‘this kind of behavior doesn’t look good for our organization,’” she quoted, imitating the gruff voice of her last employer—the owner of an after-school daycare. “So you’ll give me my walking papers, but where can I go? Zach just proved he can find me anywhere—even if I leave the freaking planet! And even if he gets bored and stops messing with me, even if he doesn’t send the video to my next employer, it’s out there—on the Internet! Where anyone…anyone can…can find it!”

The words were turning into sobs now. Molly told herself not to cry but she couldn’t help it—the pain was too much to bear.

All over again! she kept thinking. It’s happening all over again!

“This isn’t your fault.” Commander Torus finished with her hand and looked up at last to meet her eyes. “Do you hear me, Molly? It’s not your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault!” Molly cried passionately. “Don’t you understand? The damage is done. Look—I was raised in a strict religious household—my father is a Deacon in a Southern Baptist Church. Do you know what he did when Zach sent him that video?”

Silently, Commander Torus shook his head.

“He disowned me!” Molly cried. “He and my Mom haven’t spoken to me in five years. Nobody in my whole family will…will be seen with me or even…even talk to me on the phone!” She was sobbing harder than ever now, the words and the tears pouring out of her like poison. “They hate me because they think I made that video on purpose! Like I would do that? Of course I wouldn’t! But they won’t listen! Nobody will listen! And nobody will help, either! They just think I’m disgusting and horrible and…and dirty!”

She broke down completely then, sobbing like a hurt little girl—which was how she felt inside. The loss of her family had been a hundred times worse than the loss of her career—a thousand times worse.

Not being able to go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas…not getting a phone call on her birthday with her parents singing, “happy birthday to you!” together, the way they did for all their kids…and worst of all, not knowing if everyone was okay or not. What if one of her siblings got in a car accident or one of her elderly parents had a heart attack or a stroke? Molly would never know about it because nobody would call her!

“They treat me like I’m already dead!” she wailed, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders heaving convulsively with the sobs. “And I wish that I was—I wish I was dead!”

“Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that!” Suddenly strong arms were wrapping around her and Molly felt herself being pulled into a tight embrace. She stiffened at first and then melted against Commander Torus’s broad shoulder, too hurt and broken to fight him.

Kneeling in front of the couch, he pulled her as close as he could and then, when that didn’t seem close enough, he rose and swept her into his arms and settled back on the couch, cuddling her to his chest.

It was the first time a man had touched her in five years—and the first time in much longer than that since any man had touched her with gentleness or tenderness. Molly didn’t know how to react to it. She sobbed until it felt like she was broken inside and he held her tight, as though she might fall apart into a million pieces if he let go of her for even an instant.

She cried for all the hurt and pain and shame—for the sheer humiliation she’d endured over and over and over again. For the fact that it seemed like no one cared and no one seemed able to help.


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