Page 47 of When She Dances

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I might be in love with him. I try not to think about that, because my time is borrowed time. He said early on that he has no plans to keep me, and I hope that if I never bring it up, he’ll forget all about how he was going to free me.

I don’t like being a slave…but humans have no rights out here in the wider universe anyhow. Even if I was free, I wouldn’t be safe just because of what I am. Risda’s supposed to be different, but I’m skeptical of that.

Even if it’s paradise, Zakoar won’t be there.18ZAKOARHe doesn’t want to keep me and I don’t want to stay.

Tessa’s casual words ring in my ears, over and over again. She doesn’t know that I kept the intercom on in my room, that I’m always watching over her just to make sure she’s safe, even when my back is turned. She doesn’t know that I heard every bit of her conversation with Tikosa.

At first, I wanted to murder Tikosa for complaining that I’m not as driven. The male’s too young. He doesn’t realize that it’s not a healthy sort of drive that makes me work for days on end. I do it because I need to lose myself in something, because I needed an outlet for my frustrations. It was as if I thought that somehow if I made a perfect prosthetic, or if I made life better for that one person, it’d somehow make up for my own loneliness.

With Tessa around, I haven’t felt that yawning black hole in my spirit. I haven’t felt as if I needed to lose myself in a task, just so the time would pass. I’ve enjoyed every day. There’s nothing I love more than to wake up with her curled up beside me, various parts of her touching me. It’s like she has to be in constant contact when she sleeps, as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear when she wakes up.

She smiles now. The sad look in her eyes is gone.

And…she feels like she’s mine. Not my slave, not my property, but my mate. My companion. Her joy in small pleasures—like a salty snack at a vendor booth or the sight of a particularly flamboyant cruiser landing at the docks—makes me realize that I can still enjoy those things, too. I’m no longer just existing, now that she’s here. I feel alive.

It’s why her words are such a gut punch.

I know I’ve been selfish. Originally I thought I’d keep her for a few nights and then buy her passage to Risda. It’d have to be a trustworthy ship, one that owes me a favor, so I can be certain that they don’t turn around and sell her off. I’d keep her for a few days, and then once the novelty of my plaything wore off, I’d send her on. We’d both be happy.

Except…days turned into weeks and I’ve deliberately avoided bringing up Risda III or her freedom. She hasn’t brought it up, either. Maybe she’s afraid of angering me, but I know my reasons are purely selfish. I want to keep her.

Forever.

Perhaps it’s that neither of us has brought up Risda that it hits me so hard when I hear her casually bring it up to Tikosa. She still wants to go, and I realize I can’t be selfish any longer. If she’s dreaming of green grasses and fresh air, I don’t want to be the keffing asshole that traps her on the station. I think of how overjoyed she’d been at the sight of the terrarium I took her to a few days ago. I think about how she watches the lone tree on my floor, commenting every day on a new bloom nestled in the branches.

She deserves to be happy.

My gut feels hollow as I finish the repairs and send my client on his way. Tessa meets me with a bright smile, slipping her hand into mine, and there’s a faint scent of her arousal in the air that tears at me, as if she’s been waiting for this moment to be with me.

I hold her hand tightly as we leave the shop, and if she notices my bleak mood, she doesn’t say anything. She’s quiet, offering me little touches with her hands as we ride the elevator, as if she’s trying to comfort me, and that just makes me feel worse.

I’m no better than Abuar for keeping her.

Worse, because he never promised her anything, and I still want to renege on everything I’ve declared and keep her for myself. I want to grab her and chain her to my bed and never let her go…but I’d still lose her smile. I’d never hear her happy laughter again, or feel her small hand squeeze mine like it is right now.


Tags: Ruby Dixon Erotic