Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
The group separates, heading back into the ship. Sentorr lifts his mate in his arms and carries her up the ramp, and his expression is achingly tender for someone who I've always thought of as unyielding and humorless. Falling in love seems to change everyone, because I know how he feels. I'm as protective of Sophie as Sentorr is of Zoey.
Soon enough, it's just me and Sophie standing in the now empty hangar. Her hand is still tightly locked onto mine, and her expression is calm, but there's a rawness to her gaze that worries me. I need to get to work, because Kivian needs those flight records but…Sophie comes first. I squeeze her hand. "Where's your pet, love?"
The casual word slips out of my mouth before I realize what I've said. Love.
Sophie doesn't notice, though. She gives me a weary smile and gestures. "I gave him an old compressor to chew on and left him in the terrarium. I hope that's okay."
"It's fine." She could tell me she let him shit in the shower, and I'd be fine with it. I just want that hollow look in her eyes to go away. I tug on her hand, leading her away from the Jabberwock. "And you? Are you fine?"
She starts to nod, and then after a moment, she swallows hard. "No. No, I don't think I am."
63
SOPHIE
It's been an awful afternoon. Here I thought it'd be a social one, where Zoey and the others would crowd into our space for a while, and then they'd eventually leave and I'd get to be alone with Jerrok again. Not my favorite, but do-able. But then Zoey had asked to check the comms for her brothers, and I'd thought…what would it hurt? So we did…
And now Zoey is collapsed against her mate's chest, weeping, because her brothers are missing, their ship abandoned.
I know this end of space isn't safe. God, no one knows that more than a human on her own. I know that piracy is an accepted sort of thing, and it's entirely possible that the va Sithai were boarded and captured and are being held for ransom. It's also entirely possible that the authorities finally nailed them and they're in prison somewhere.
It's also possible that they're dead, but I don't want to think about that.
I feel helpless and cold and so afraid. Zoey's pain eats at me and makes me feel selfish, because she's grieving her brothers and I understand it…but at the same time, I can't help but wonder what happens to me now?
And then I feel like a jerk for even thinking about myself. It's just…what am I supposed to do? I would love to stay with Jerrok, but now I worry if I bring it up, he's going to feel cornered. Like he HAS to give me a place to stay because I've got no one else. I want him to ask me to stay because he wants me to stay, not because he feels obligated.
But it's something to stress about later. For now, the crew of the Jabberwock needs flight records, and something tells me that Jerrok is going to need me. When he gets stressed, some of his circuits start to jump and twitch, distracting him. I can help with that, at least.
Jerrok parks himself in front of his workstation, pulling up something that looks a bit like a data pad. "I copy all files from the scrapped ships into a database here, so we’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Once we find if anyone's gone to the system, it's just a matter of manually coding the records to reflect the Jabberwock instead of the old ship. It's not hard work, just time-consuming because every system uses a different set of relays to record their information…" He absently rubs his bicep.
Sure enough, one of his circuits is twitching, sending a tremor down his prosthetic arm.
I move to his side, stroking his sleeve and looking for the twitching circuit with small touches. I've learned that if I keep one finger pressed on the loose circuit point while my hand massages the twisting wiring back into place, I can get things back to normal for him faster. I find the bad spot, press on it, and work the rest of it as he types away. "What do you need from me?" I ask. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
He groans when I rub his bicep. "Just keep doing what you're doing, love. That's perfect."
That's the second time he's called me “love” now, and each time it fills me with such warmth that I want to…well, cry. It terrifies me even as it fills me with joy, because what if he does love me, just not enough for me to stay? What if he sends me away with the Jabberwock?