Page 70 of Commodity


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His chest shakes as he laughs softly.

“Good,” he says, “because I don’t think I’m going to be ready for another round of that for an hour, at least.”

“An hour?” I glance up at him. “I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow as it is.”

“I don’t want to leave any room for speculation,” he says. “I can’t think of anything sexier than seeing you hobble around all day.”

“As long as I don’t have to run from anything.” I snicker, but the sudden tension in his arms alerts me. He doesn’t find my joke humorous, and his tone becomes serious again.

“I won’t let them take you,” he says. “I don’t know what they did with the others, but whoever they are, they aren’t going to get you.”

I place my hand on the center of his chest. His dedication is admirable but also concerning. I warm at his words, but I also know he won’t always be able to protect me.

“You can’t control everything,” I say. “You shouldn’t put all of this on yourself.”

“I am.” He kisses the top of my head again. “If I don’t do it, who else will? You are in my charge, Ms. Savinski. I take that very seriously.”

“I know you do,” I tell him. “I just don’t want you to think you’re responsible for anything and everything that happens to me.”

“I do think that,” he says, “and that’s not going to change. I have to do this. I won’t fail.”

He looks at me, his deep blue eyes intense and pleading.

“This is all I have left, Hannah.

I’ve never bailed on a job because things got rough, and I’m not about to do that now. There’s no fucking purpose for me except to make sure you’re protected.”

*****

I wake in Falk’s arms.

He’s wrapped around me so tightly, I have to duck under one arm and around the other before I can slide down and out of his grip to head to the bathroom. The air in the apartment is cool this morning, and I shiver as it hits my naked skin.

As I go into the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is everywhere and looks like a lion’s mane. I quickly smooth it down and tie it back at my neck before I walk out to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee on a camp stove. The natural gas stove has long since stopped working. Falk said it was because the compressors that move the gas to the apartments need electricity to work. We’re almost out of propane for the camp stoves, and I wonder if anyone found some during the last supply run. I’ll have to go check the shed later.

When I come back to the room and dress, Falk’s arms are still splayed over my side of the bed, giving me a wonderful view of his muscled arms and shoulders. He snores lightly as I pull on my clothes, which makes me smile.

With the coffee made, I head outside with a mug in my hand, wishing we still had some of the vanilla creamer and then being mad at myself for wanting something so frivolous. As soon as I start walking down the stairs, I can feel how sore I am between my legs and grunt slightly. When I get to the last step, I pause a moment, shifting my weight from one hip to the other, remembering the feeling of Falk’s cock deep inside of me. My muscles clench at the memory, and I smile to myself as I continue to the common area.

It’s early enough that no one seems to be around yet. There’s still some dew on the grass and only the faint chirping of birds and chipmunks. I head over to the fire pit and stare down at the mess from last night. It will have to be cleared of mud before it will be useful again, so I might as well get started.

It’s too big of a mess to do by hand, so I head off to the shed for the shovel, but it isn’t anywhere to be found. I remember Falk was using it out by the well yesterday. He’s usually very good about putting tools away, but I decide to go look for it there.

The area around the well is clear of tools. I sigh and look around the edge of the woods, but I don’t see anything there. I try to think of where someone might have used a shovel recently and remember that Marco and Sam had been digging a trash pit back in the clearing where Falk had been teaching me to shoot. The group didn’t like the idea of burning trash in the same fire pit where we cooked.

I head off into the woods, my mind wandering back to the lights in the sky last night. I glance upward, wondering if they are still there but not visible in the sunlight. I try to picture what they might look like, but all that comes to mind are the pictures I’ve seen all over the internet of grey-green creatures with large, oval eyes.

Maybe there is some truth to all those stories about Roswell and Area 51 or whatever it is called. Maybe some of those pictures were real, and we did capture some kind of alien spacecraft all those years ago. Could it just have taken this long for them to come back for revenge?

With my head full of aliens, I startle when I see motion between the trees in the distance.

I tense, wishing I had listened to Falk and brought a gun with me. My heart starts to race as I crouch to get a better look. I see a shape moving through the trees again and duck down into the underbrush behind a fallen tree trunk. I bite my lip and stare over the log and through the leaves, waiting to see if the invaders are actually green.

The shape moves again, and I hear voices.

“We just need to wait a little longer.”

“How long?”

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