Chapter 6 | Markus

Chapter 6

Markus

I hated seeing the shadow of fear that came over Justine when I mentioned the truck. I much prefer her anger or lust. Both at the same time works too. But seeing her scared makes me want to wrap her up in a cocoon while I battle to protect her. I wish the situation was different, that I could undo what I’ve put in motion. But things are what they are, so I focus on finishing my errands.

After shopping for clothes, I decide to get some food. I hope it will help get Justine out of her funk. Clothes, makeup, snacks...it should work, right? What else could a human want? I check my biocomm device. I’m late to meet Justine, but it’s worth it for the treats.

She’ll probably think I’ve left the ship without her. That’s one thing I’ll never do. And if I’m being honest, it’s not just to keep her safe. More and more, it’s for the dumbest reason in the galaxy: I don’t want Justine to hate me anymore.

I wish she could give me one of those bright smiles or filthy kisses without recoiling when she remembers who I am. Maybe that will lessen the shame I feel every time I think of what I’ve done. I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life alone on the fringes of society. But I’d like to erase this particular stain on my soul.

“So many bags for one gentleman. Do you have a sweetheart waiting back in your cabin?” the cashier asks, breaking into my thoughts. She’s an attractive middle-aged human whose name tag says “Magda.” I smile at her.

“Yes, the very sweetest sweetheart in the world is waiting for me now.”

“Good. A young man like you should enjoy himself.”

I wink and hand over my credit chip. Magda slides the chip through the reader and hands it back.

“Be sure to come back if there’s anything, and I do mean anything else you want.”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that,” I say, knowing that I will absolutely not be doing any such thing.

I exit the store and walk quickly towards the boutique where I’m supposed to meet Justine. My eyes lock on her immediately. Her arms are crossed and there are two large Beauty Emporium bags at her feet. She’s chatting with a young human man in an Excelsior uniform who keeps leaning in and touching her arm. I want to smack his hand away from her. She checks the time and her face darkens. She’s pissed that I’m late.

I walk faster and raise the snacks in the air to wave at her. Her expression changes when she sees me. Relief, annoyance, and curiosity flit across her face. At least it’s not the abject hatred I saw before. I’m making progress! I sigh inwardly. There’s still a long way to go before she actually likes me, but this is a start.

“You’re late,” she says as I approach.

“I’m sorry. There was a lot to buy.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be going,” the man says, backing away. His dark eyes twinkle. He needs to put a lid on it.

“It was nice meeting you,” Justine says to him.

“Likewise, come visit anytime,” he says and walks away towards the security station.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“A security guard. Said his name was Damon.”

“And why was he talking to you?”

“He asked if I was lost and if I needed help.”

“Hmmm.”

Seeing Damon talking to Justine made my skin itch, but I’ve got more important things to worry about now, like changing our clothes.

“Prepare for launch in 30 minutes,” a robotic voice announces over the communication system.

“We’d better get back to our room. It’ll be easier to restyle ourselves before we launch. Can I get those for you?” I ask, motioning to her bags.

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

I can tell she finds my attempt at gallantry ridiculous, but maybe it will help move the needle a little more in my favor. I heft her bags along with mine and head for our cabin.

* * *

“I can’t wear this,” Justine says, eyeing herself in the long mirror on the bathroom door.

“Why not? You look amazing.”

Justine is wearing the shiny black catsuit I bought for her earlier. It’s the only thing we have that’s fancy enough for the event tonight, but Justine’s not convinced.

“It’s just not the kind of thing I would wear, like, ever.” She runs her hands over the transparent mesh panels fastened with zippers. They’re not revealing anything too scandalous, a hint of tummy here, a smooth shoulder there. It’s the suggestion that you’re one zip away from touching those places that makes it sexy. That, and the fact it’s Justine wearing it.

I love that I can see every soft curve of her body, her generous breasts and strong thighs. That I can see that her new tattoo is a butterfly. It’s a good thing she can’t read my scent because I’m sending off a lot of mating signals right now. She is too.

I’m wearing a matching catsuit and she audibly gasped when I put it on. There’s a particular mesh panel on my chest that’s been drawing her eye. When I showed her, she just whispered, “nipple,” and said nothing else.

“It’s perfect because we match,” I continue. “Plus, we look really different than we did earlier. Thanks for the haircut, by the way.” I rub my hand over the freshly shaved back of my head.

The first thing Justine did when we got back to our cabin was cut and dye my hair. She did it so fast and efficiently she barely touched me at all. But once her hand glided over the curve of my neck. I had a wild moment, wondering if she would strangle or stroke me. Before I could catch my breath, the moment passed. Now, my hair is neatly styled and tipped with black and I’m desperate to feel her hands on me again.

She gave herself a trim too and then added some pink stripes for effect. Very matchy-matchy. If we weren’t under so much pressure, I think she’d be enjoying herself immensely. We’ve agreed makeup will come last, because now it’s almost time for liftoff.

Moments later, the ship communicator crackles to life and tells us to remain inside our cabin until the ship reaches open space.

“I think we’re going to look great together tonight. We’ll play the part of perfect, fashionable newlyweds, and no one will look twice at us for the rest of the trip.”

I expect Justine to make a crack about us being perfect, but she’s frozen in place. I look around the cabin wondering what the problem could be, then notice the ship's engines have rumbled to life. This is the typical liftoff sequence for commercial vessels. What’s not typical is Justine’s reaction. Her face has drained, and she seems terrified.

Is it because of her experience on The Adventure ? That’s the only explanation I can think of. I walk a few steps so I’m by her side.

“Hey there. Do you want to sit on the couch together and chill for a bit while the ship takes off?”

“What?” She turns to me like she forgot I was there.

“Let’s go sit down together. I can tell you the story of the first con I pulled.”

“I don’t understand.”

It’s like she’s so wrapped up in her fear she’s forgotten everything else. I speak to her in a gentle voice.

“Lift offs make me nervous, and I was hoping you could help distract me. I’d rather tell you about my terrible past than think about all the terrible things that could happen if something goes wrong. Could you do that for me? Just listen?”

“I can do that.” Her voice is still tight, but at least she’s not frozen.

I sit down on the couch and motion for her to join me. She lowers herself down without touching me.

“Can I hold your hand? It’s embarrassing to ask, but it makes me feel better,” I say.

“Sure.”

I thread my fingers through hers and hold them to my chest.

“Thank you,” I say, and she nods.

The engines below rumble louder and the ship feels like it’s about to lift off. Justine shudders and I begin my story.

“So, there I was, alone on the streets of Xanx, eight years old and hungry. My mom was long gone by then.” Justine frowns, but not about the liftoff, about my story. “It’s alright,” I reassure her. “This happened a long time ago. So yeah, I’m out there alone and I think, how am I going to score some free grub tonight? That’s when I decided to pose as a child psychic in the nearby train station.”

Justine’s eyes widen.

“A child psychic? Did you really do that?”

“Let me tell you the whole story.”

I feel her relax against me and begin my tale from the very beginning.