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“I am sorry,” he says.
“It’s… fine,” I say.
The word hangs between us. A lie and we both know it. Nothing about any of this is fine and this perhaps most of all, but he’s right. This is the only right choice in a situation where the obviously right thing is a whole lot less than clear.
He clears his throat then shakes his head as he takes a step away from me. The space where he just was feels unnaturally empty and cold. I’m acutely aware of the lack of him inside my personal bubble. I hate it. Stupid, but there it is.
He goes to a cabinet and pulls out a small leather bag that jingles as he lifts it. He undoes the tie and pulls out a few things that look like iron coins. He counts them then seals the bag and replaces it.
“I will be fast as possible,” he says.
“Good,” I say, my eyes going to the body.
He follows my gaze and I see his frown too as his brow furrows deeply. He makes a deep hmm’ing sound then shakes his head.
“That should not be there,” he says.
He walks over to the body. He picks it up and throws it over his shoulder like a sack or something. He looks at me then around the room. When his gaze lands on the stairs he nods and heads towards them.
I watch as he disappears up the stairs. I hear him moving around and I go to the kitchen table, taking a seat while I wait. It isn’t long before he comes back down. We stare at each other in uncomfortable silence for a long moment.
“I need to…”
“Yeah,” I agree.
Is he as reluctant as I am? Or is he only thinking about his duty to keep me locked down. No, don’t be silly. He’s killed a man and put his own life in every bit as much or more danger than I’m in. I’m being selfish and a bitch. I force a smile onto my face and meet his shifting gaze.
“Go,” I order. “Be safe. Please.”
“I will,” he says, then seems to think better of it. “As much as possible.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Well hurry back, one way or the other.”
“That I can promise.”
He moves to the door, hesitating with one hand on the handle. I wait, wanting him to turn around, to run to me. Take me in his arms and shove his cock into me. The moment stretches and for an instant it seems my ridiculous fantasy might come true then he opens the door and it closes behind him.
I’m alone. Alone in an empty house.
Well, not totally. There’s a dead guy upstairs, probably on the bed. Ugh, gross. I try to find ways to keep my mind occupied as time ticks slowly past. It’s hard because there’s not a lot to do. I go through the cabinets, studying every thing. I am, after all, supposed to learn as much as possible about the Urr’ki culture.
Oddly, it’s all very familiar even if it is totally alien. The dishes are not dissimilar to what we use. The food, though strange in colors and smells, is also recognizable. The organization, the structures, all of it could be done by a human. Bigger in size, overall, but that also makes sense. The Urr’ki are bigger than humans after all. The things they have are sized for them.
I don’t know how long he’s been gone when I finish my exploring but it feels like a long time. I go to the couch and take a seat. Then I realize I’m sitting where the dead guy was and move to the other chair.
Now I’m staring at the spot he was. This feels awkward. Wrong somehow. But there is no other place to sit. The chairs in the kitchen are very hard and uncomfortable so I don’t really want to return to them.
I’m about to give up and do that anyway when there is a knock at the door.
24
BHOJA
Isense it the moment I set foot outside. Eyes watching, following, but no matter where I look I can’t find the source. Or not a single source. Every person, every set of eyes, feels like they are suspect. Did that person look a little too long? How about them?
I weave through the crowds and the streets, not going straight to my destination. I dodge around a corner quick then press myself against the wall, watching the street to see if anyone is following. A group of children rush past, bouncing off my legs. One of them curses before they run off.
Even they are suspect. This is what we have become. No longer proud.
