Page 13 of Kenan's Mate
Heggal releases my hand and the image of Kenan staring at me with relief fades. I open my eyes and I’m back on the patio, feeling as if I’ve just awoken from a dream. The nighttime bugs sound louder than before.
“Why did you show me that?”
The pale alien doesn’t reply, but gives me a knowing smile before retrieving his basket and entering the house, leaving me alone with my muddled thoughts.
It doesn’t make sense. During our dinner conversation, Kenan made it sound as if he’d almost left me to die in my quarters. But that isn’t true at all.
He worried about whether or not I would survive, and he’d threatened to murder a doctor if I didn’t live. My heartbeat quickens and I feel faint as I try to process this new information.
Kenan is an enigma.
I want to know more about him, as well as the mountain he calls home, but I’m still too frustrated and angry to seek him out, not to mention fearful. Is he really a prince? I stare into the dark forest as if it contains the answers to my questions.
Eventually, I shift my gaze to the sky and drink in the beauty of the two full moons. I’ve seen pictures before, of course, but glimpsing the bright orange moons of Tallia in person is so much more rewarding than any photo flashing across the television screen.
Before my parents tore up my acceptance letter to the art school, I frequently painted and sketched the two moons of Tallia. Once it became apparent that despite my love of painting and drawing, I wouldn’t be able to pursue a career as an artist, I decided if I couldn’t paint Tallia’s moons anymore, I would at least visit the planet one day, and perhaps, once my education was complete, make it my permanent home.
Now it’s my home for good, whether I like it or not.
“Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad,” I whisper to the stars. “Goodbye, Aunt Mabel.” Every time I remember I’ll never see my family and friends again, it’s a punch to the stomach. “Goodbye, Sheila.”
My best friend, Sheila, is three months pregnant right now. I was supposed to be Aunt Laylah to her little girl, or boy. I was supposed to be there for her as she embarked upon motherhood at a young age, mere months after graduating high school. Yes, I was going away to college soon, but I would have been a phone call away and also visited her as much as possible.
Only a handful of people know she’s expecting. What will she do without me?
I struggle to breathe and hunch over, wrapping my arms around myself.
What willIdo without Sheila? Or Aunt Mabel?
My throat burns. Or my parents?
Sure, part of me resents my parents for strongly discouraging my interest in art, but I still love them and think they did the best job possible raising me under the circumstances, particularly after the tragic loss of my brother at such a young age.
I sigh and gaze longingly at the sky once more, wishing I could blink and my home planet’s moon would appear above me. Will Earth officials learn what happened to the passengers on theStargazerand the humans on Tallia? Or will they simply discover the wormhole has closed and call it an unfortunate accident? Will they eventually realize the Kleaxians intentionally closed it?
The answers to these questions and so many more will forever remain a mystery. The not knowing part kills me. I long to see my parents once more to tell them how much I love them and promise I’ll be all right on Tallia, even if that last part is probably a lie.
It’s a cruel twist of fate that, a decade after losing my brother, they have lost me as well, especially after the lengths they went to ensure I never followed in his footsteps.
“Time for bed, Laylah.” Kenan’s deep voice pulls me from my miserable trance.
My spirits darken further. I don’t want to sleep in a cage. I don’t want to talk to him, either.
I rise, keeping my arms crossed, and stare at the ground as I move to walk past him. I can’t look at him. Not now. Not when I’m so vulnerable and lost.
But when he grabs my arm and tips my chin up, forcing my eyes to his, I’m powerless to stop him. I gulp, fearing he knows about my illicit talk with Heggal, but his next words abate this particular worry.
“I wouldn’t really have snapped your neck, Laylah.” His voice is gentle and his eyes gleam dark in the moonlight. “I wouldn’t have left you to die, either.”
My heart lurches. It’s the closest to an apology I can hope for. We both know it. I nod to acknowledge his little confession, not necessarily to accept it, and then he escorts me to the large master bedroom.
The door slides shut behind us and I tremble at being alone with him again, in the very room where not so long ago, he whipped and ravished me. A glance at the bed shows it’s been remade with clean covers. There’s no trace of blood anywhere. I wonder what the servants think of their master.
He pushes me toward the bathroom, and I venture inside and start preparing for bed. I wash my face first, and after I pat it dry I take comfort in the fact I don’t look as hellish as earlier. My eyes aren’t as red, and the pink mark from the slap has completely faded. In retrospect, he didn’t hit me hard enough to inflict any real damage. Not that it makes it okay.
I open drawers until I find a package containing what resembles a toothbrush. It’s larger than any toothbrush I’ve ever seen, but I use it anyway, along with a tube of something that smells minty. After cleaning up the sink area out of habit, I use the toilet, thankful he allowed the door to close behind me.
Pausing in the center of the bathroom, I stare at the door. I’m finished with my ablutions, but I’m not ready to face Kenan. Will he fuck me again? He’d also mentioned hurting me, not as punishment, but because hewantsto hurt me, and that scares me even more than possibly having to spread my legs for him again.
