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I rush forward, grabbing his arm. I don’t even care that when I grip down on him, I feel the slime beneath my palm.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “We’ll go to your room together. Are you hurt?”
He shakes his head. “Kaye, this isn’t… After everything I’ve told you, I didn’t plan to— I might tell you harsh things to be sure you understand who I am, but you don’t have to see this.”
“Do you think I can’t imagine it when you tell me what you do?”
“Imagining and seeing are two different things,” he says, shoulders slack with defeat.
“Come on.” I tug on him, intent on taking him down to his quarters to help clean him up. I made sure Raffa was staying with Kira for the night because I knew Kalla wouldn’t want to encounter the boy after whatever chaos he got himself into.
He winces.
“You’re hurt,” I say, refraining from pulling on him.
A shrug. Typical.
“It’s a minor blast graze.” He pushes his cloak aside, revealing a black bandage where his bulging trap dips to meet the curve of his shoulder. There’s a charred hole in his armored suit. The damage reveals the metal plating that hides beneath the fabric, which stops where the zipper is sewn in.
“Let’s go,” I say, invoking my teacher’s voice and leading him to the hatch into the hallway.
“Little flame,” he warns.
“Let me help you.” I whip around and glare at him once I’ve opened the hatch. “I might not be able to fight like Raina. I can’t heal Frankie, and I couldn’t have saved her without Captain Rossa, but if there’s one thing I can do, it’s taking care of people. So that’s what I’m going to do.Youkidnapped me, so live with the consequences.”
With brows raised, he cooperates.
“I suppose you’ll never let me forget that,” he says as we climb down.
When we enter the room, I lock the door behind us to be sure we’re not interrupted. The bedding is too lovely to ruin, so I toss the handwoven coverlet and lush comforter out of the way and replace them with towels before guiding Kalla to sit on the edge. He watches me quietly, the serious expression on his face never faltering once. As I’m removing his cloak, he surprises me by breaking the silence.
“I’m taking you back to EC-12,” he says.
I pause. “You’re what?”
After we made that agreement? I thought he was happy with the prospect, and I was already mentally adjusting to it. I can’t complain, seeing as it’s what I wanted in the first place. It’ll be better for Raffa. But now that I’ve grown fond of Kalla, it means we’ll part ways with no idea when we’ll see each other again.
“We’re landing on Station City to refuel and meet some contacts. Being stopped in the central hub of Alliance traffic is the perfect time to transport you to the colony without derailing the crew’s charted flight path.”
“What brought this on—”
“Don’t argue it now,” he interrupts gruffly.
I merely cross my arms over my chest and regard him with pursed lips.
“That was… uncalled for,” he says quickly. He glues his eyes to the floor. “Sorry.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I say, returning to the task at hand. “But why do I get the feeling my efforts to sway you had nothing to do with this decision?”
“Give yourself some credit. I was considering the points you made,” he tells me as I shove his blood splattered overcoat into the laundry chute. “But you’d be right. And you don’t wanna know why.”
He’s already heard me say that I don’t want him to hold anything back from me. Up until now, he’s been open and honest. So even though it’s on the tip of my tongue to demand more information, I decide to let it be. It’s obvious that something happened. He’s hardened himself to a killing spree, so it’s not the bloody fight that has him shaken. I’ve never seen him quite so grim. Sure, he’s been angry, and he’s been harsh, but he’s never looked like he’s seen a ghost.
“Let’s get everything off,” I say softly, unzipping what remains of the damaged closure that runs the length of his arm. The suit peels off, and I’m once again treated to the sight of endless muscles. His body is a machine, thick and strong. He lets me unzip the other side, too, and then the chest plate crumples and falls into his lap. He stands for a moment to shove the pants down, groaning when he sits again. I get to my knees to pull the legs off, so he won’t strain himself further. There’s a swollen area along his ribs; he must’ve crashed into something from the side.
I’m only on my knees for a brief moment, but my body zings to attention at the mere position. I purposely turn my cheek toward him as I remove the suit, wincing at my proximity. I can’t forget how inhumanly big he is.
“Don’t worry about that, now,” he says, following my gaze and lifting his arm. “A bit of ointment will heal it quickly.”
