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Oh come on. He doesn’t look that scary. I fight back a surge of impatience.
“Who—who is that? What does he want?” She quivers like a, well, like a fluffit. I’m a little disgusted to realize that Dora’s nickname fits Rhonda’s terrified manner more than it’s ever fit Dora.
Jamef’s face is unreadable. He watches Rhonda with an inscrutable gaze, his red eye gleaming in the low light of Haal Ui’s halls. His stance is casual, though, his hands near his weapon belt. “This is Jamef sa Raan,” I say. “He’s one of my mates.”
She sniffs prettily and looks up at me. “Like…your crew?”
“Like he eats my pussy every night. That kind of mate.”
Jamef snorts with amusement, inclining his chin towards Rhonda. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard you and Bethiah are already acquainted?”
“We were once mates,” Rhonda says with another delicate sniff, wiping her fingertips under her eyes with precision so as not to smudge the cosmetics she wears. “I didn’t realize you liked men.”
“Actually,” I say, lifting a finger. “I feel obligated to point out that not only do I like men, we were also never mates. I asked you to be my mate and you declined because you said I couldn’t take care of you.”
“I don’t remember it like that.” Rhonda’s pink lower lip quivers.
I do. I remember every keffing word of our last conversation. But it’s clear there’s no sense in fighting over it. I can argue until my face turns purple and I know from experience that it won’t get anywhere with Rhonda. She’s always the victim and it’s the universe that has done her wrong. It’s never the other way around. “We took on your bounty. You want to tell us about it or should we just head out without any information at all?”
“My bounty?” She straightens her ornamented hair, giving me a look of wonder. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
Rhonda bites her lip, then gestures for us to enter. “Come inside. It’s safer to talk in here.”
We enter the small apartment, and immediately it feels like ten years ago. I can tell right away that Rhonda hasn’t changed. Despite the size of the place, it’s lushly draped with colorful fabrics of all kinds (Rhonda likes beauty) and fresh flowers. It’s obvious she’s been here a while—there’s a few decorations that look rather costly and not the usual “hotel” sort, including a crystalline vase that probably costs more than the Pleasure Spot. A variety of boxed purchases are stacked up in the small kitchen, and a tray of edible delights with colorful wrappings sits atop a table. I can smell the old tang of carcinogels in the air, a habit she’s always found impossible to give up. The floor is covered in colorful pillows, and she immediately heads for them, settling amidst them and reclining in a way that best shows off her body. “Please, make yourselves at home.”
Jamef eyes the place and then moves to wait by the door, blasters at the ready. When I give him a curious look, he murmurs, “She’s traveling with a lot of wealth. Someone else is bound to have noticed.”
I nod, brushing my tail against his and then heading inside after Rhonda. I pause by the edible delights, unwrapping one and popping it into my mouth, then discarding the wrapper on the floor. She did say to treat it like home. The bite is sweet, with a bean paste of some kind and a caramelized crunch inside. Yum. I turn back to Jamef. “These are really good. We should get Dora some.”
He just grunts, tilting his head toward Rhonda as if trying to tell me to stick to business. And I plan to. I’m just wrapping my head around things. I eye Rhonda as she reclines and adjusts the drape of her silky gown. She looks the same as when I last saw her, really. Her eyes are a little harder, and the lines around her mouth a bit more pronounced, but truly, it feels as if I just walked out of our quarters yesterday, never to see her again.
Or so I’d thought. I pluck another treat from the tray, discarding the wrapper, and eat it as I sit down across from her. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
She bites her lip with small, perfect white teeth. “Have I? I’ve been abandoned, Bethy. I wouldn’t say that’s ‘doing well for myself.’”
I gesture at the apartment. “Abandoned with a bunch of expensive stuff, though. You could probably sell all this and make a nice pile of credits.”
“But then what?” She delicately wipes the corners of her eyes again. “A pile of credits is nothing if you don’t have love.”
The sweet lump I’m eating sticks to the roof of my mouth.
Rhonda sits up, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Remember when we parted all those years ago and I told you that I had to choose safety? I’ve chosen wrong, Bethy. I should have chosen love instead. I should have chosen you.”
