Page 22 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
5
He'd fucked up.
Davis stared at the medbay ceiling, mentally cataloging every place that hurt. The list was long. The energy weapon's damage radiated through his chest in waves, dulled now by whatever cocktail Covak had found that worked. Still felt like someone had driven a plasma torch through his sternum, but at least he could think again.
The quiet hum of medical equipment filled the silence. That, and the occasional soft click of Spot's legs against the deck as the little drakeen core repositioned itself near Mira's feet. The robot had appointed itself her guardian, glaring at him like he was a potential threat.
Smart little bastard.
Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Mira check the readings on the handheld scanner. She moved with quiet efficiency, her movements precise as she recorded his vitals. The blue glow from her tablet illuminated her face in the dimmed medbay lighting, casting shadows that accentuated the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw. Her hair had come loose from its usual tight bun, blonde wisps falling around her face. She tucked them behind her ear with an absent gesture that seemed intimate.
She chewed her bottom lip when concentrating. Huh. He'd never noticed that before.
She glanced up and caught him watching her. Their eyes locked before he could pretend to be looking at something else. A flush crept across her cheeks, warming her skin in the blue light.
She touched her face. "What? Do I have something on me?"
He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the quiet room. "No. Just... thanks. For staying."
His voice came out rough, sandpaper-edged. He blamed it on the pain, not on the way she'd looked at him.
"You should get some rest," he added, not meaning it. "I'm fine now."
"I told Covak I'd monitor you," she said, eyes flicking back to her tablet. "I don't leave jobs half-finished."
Spot chirped in agreement, settling beside her chair. Davis studied her determined expression, the set of her jaw. There was steel beneath that outwardly gentle manner. It reminded him of how she'd faced him down at the scrapyard, refusing to back down.
"You're stubborn," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. The meds were working then. "Noticed that about you. How you take on responsibilities. How hard you work."
No, he hadn't meant to say any of that, but the words were out there now and he couldn’t take them back.
Her eyes widened.
"Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?" she asked, wariness in her voice.
"Observation." He moved on the bed, wincing as pain flared across his chest. “Was it stubbornness that kept you with Rettnor?"
The moment the name left his lips, something shifted in the air between them. Her expression shuttered, eyes distant. She busied herself checking the monitor, movements stiff and mechanical.
"That was different," she said in a low voice.
Heat surged through his veins, a sensation separate from the burning in his chest. The mere thought of the asshole doctor triggered something primal in him, something ugly and possessive that had no business existing. Metal groaned as his fingers curled around the edge of the bed.
"How?" The word came out a harsh demand. "How was it different?"
The monitors betrayed him, beeping faster as his heart rate climbed. She glanced at them, then back at him, her distant expression replaced with confusion.
"Are you okay? Your vitals are spiking." She reached for the scanner beside him.
He ignored the question, ignored the pain, ignored the rational part of his brain screaming at him to shut up. The meds had loosened something in him, unleashed something dark and hungry that had been chained beneath layers of control.
"Why him?" he demanded. "Why the fuck would you stay with someone like that?"
Her face drained of color.
"You don't get to interrogate me about my past," she said, voice shaking despite the steel in her words.
But he was beyond hearing the warning. Something inside him needed to know, needed to understand the hold Rettnor had had on her.
