Eight

Ajax and I fall into a wondrous, tender affair that blocks out the entire outside world. He sleeps in my bed instead of on the couch and I shamelessly watch him drift off to asleep because he’s so pretty to look at. I wake up with one of his heavy limbs crushing me and as soon as he realizes it, he snatches it off.

I take a sick day two times in a row and we practice all forms of making out, shower sex and holding hands in public, some of which works and some of which doesn’t. Most of the time, he carries the blue scarf around, insisting I use it on him.

We have discovered that when it’s wet, it’s harder for him to get loose and for God knows what reason, it’s a huge turn on for us both. There might be a Fifty Shades vibe here after all, a latent bondage fantasy that I didn’t know lurked beneath my rather vanilla tendencies. Though more likely, it’s just Ajax and these unusual circumstances that make it so great. I have serious doubts I’d want to try it with anyone else.

I have serious doubts about trying anything I’ve done with Ajax with someone else—especially marriage. He’s literally the only male in the universe for whom I would voluntarily sign a document binding us together.

Each time we end up naked, our torsos heaving against each other as we come down off the ceiling, my sweetheart of an alien loses a little more of his aloofness, sliding into that amazing smile more often than not.

He looks happy. Fulfilled. I think he’d shrivel up and die if he had to go back to being alone. I think I might too. I don’t worry about tomorrow and focus on being together because that makes me happy too.

About three and a half weeks after the wedding, I duck out of the apartment to run to the grocery store, leaving Ajax in the shower. If I’d told him I was going out, he’d cut his shower short and he’d just started taking longer than three minutes a couple of days ago. I like to let him indulge when I can.

I drive to the store a few blocks away and park. I start to get out of the car when I catch a blur of movement from my peripheral vision, like a quick-footed cat or a shadow that didn’t quite form. An unsettled wave unfurls in my stomach but I can’t explain why I’m suddenly filled with dread.

“Hello, Brooklyn.” The insidious voice from behind me answers that question for me. “For once, we can actually talk without the company of your hulking friend.”

“He’s my husband, Malcolm,” I say evenly without turning around. I should. Malcolm is not the kind of man who would think twice about striking a woman from behind. But I can’t stand to look at him. “And if he catches you speaking to me, you’ll have the distinct pleasure of finding out what a full body cast feels like.”

Actually that pleasure would be mine.

“Yeah, I found out all about your little paperwork mishap with that marriage license,” Malcolm says with a snort. “Easily dispatched. The only person you’re allowed to marry is me.”

I bite back hysterical laughter mostly because it would make me sound crazy. Also because this is not funny. I’m vulnerable and being bombarded with reminders that I trusted this waste of a human once upon a time. That I fell for him. That I let him into my life, my home, my body, and he abused that trust in the vilest way possible.

Not my fault. But it is my fault if I let it happen again. I cannot let myself get complacent. Not with Ajax, not with anyone.

“Back off, Malcolm,” I hiss in deference to the two ladies who just parked near me and are chattering at each other as they spill from their car to stroll inside. “I have a restraining order. Leave me alone and forget about me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he says silkily. “Your hulking friend can’t be with you twenty-four seven and the next time I catch you alone, you’ll be sorry.”

“I don’t plan on being alone next time,” I inform him, my throat tight.

There’s a reason he’s not making good on that promise now. Too crowded or he wants me to think about it. Who knows how a madman’s brain works?

Avoiding this type of scene is the whole reason I married Ajax and like a freaking idiot, I run off and leave my bodyguard at home. Of course that’s when Malcolm pounced. That’s what he does. He’s far too smart for this meeting to have happened by chance. Likely he’s been having me followed.

“I have friends too,” he murmurs. “It would be a shame if something happened to your husband.”

The way he caresses the word gives me chills. The last thing Ajax needs is someone like Malcolm with an axe to grind looking into his origins. I have inadvertently put my sweetheart of an alien in danger because I failed to consider how vindictive Malcolm might be.

I can’t take this lying down. No more. Be brave.

With that mantra ringing through my head, I wheel on him, taking in his classic good looks, two hundred dollar haircut and custom made suit. Malcolm Roberts had everyone fooled, including the shareholders at the dotcom company he helmed as the CEO. He had a vested interest in keeping his reputation clean, which is how I knew he’d not take kindly to the restraining order.

But it also meant he had a vested interest in keeping me happy. He just didn’t know it yet.

“You keep your filthy hands off my husband,” I spit out viciously. “Or some of the photographs I’ve taken of my bruises will find their way into the right hands.”

Malcolm laughs. “Threats? That’s not like you Brooklyn. I do not care for the bad influences you’ve clearly gained. We’ll have to do something about that.”

“Are you not hearing me? I will expose you. If nothing else, I have you dead to rights on violating the restraining order. Your perfect little world will come crashing down and you’ll lose all your money and prestige.”

He eyes me in much the same way I’d envision the snake peering at Eve from the Tree of Knowledge. “Nothing you have would ever stand up in court. If anything, I will spin it that you’ve made this up to damage my reputation. I would tread carefully if I were you.”

I curse colorfully and pinch the bridge of my nose. That’s why I never tried to press charges before. Malcolm has nearly unlimited resources that would be difficult for me to fight. Plus, he kept me cowed in the worst way. I never believed I could fight him.

“And be sure your husband has nothing to hide while you’re at it,” he says in the most disturbing tone I’ve ever heard. “Because I will find out all of his secrets.”

I whirl to hightail it into the grocery store where Malcolm can’t and won’t make a scene. I’m shaking. He’s made his point. I’m screwed either way because he’s furious with me for leaving him. Malcolm will have his pound of flesh.

But not Ajax’s. I have to protect him. But how? I have to figure it out because he deserves to feel like he’s found a place where nothing can hurt him. Be brave.

When I get home, I drop the gallon of milk I bought half way up the stairs. It rolls a few steps before I can catch it, which is as much a metaphor for my state of mind as anything. I have dropped the ball and now I’m scrambling to pick it up again. Odds are good there will be damage before that happens.

Ajax is waiting for me inside, pacing. I close the door and in a flash, I’m engulfed in his warm embrace. He crushes my ribs against my lungs and I can’t breathe but I don’t care. My fingers cling to his shirt as he hugs me and I can do nothing but cry. It’s part relief that I’m safe and part agony that I have brought Malcolm’s attention to an alien who doesn’t need any extra scrutiny.

If Malcolm exposes Ajax, it might lead to Penelope and Clementine. They could lose their husbands too. This is a disaster.

Surreptitiously, I swipe at my tears and wrench away from my husband. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

He nods, his expression still a little tight with worry as he sweeps me with his evaluating gaze. “Brooklyn gone. No more gone.”

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have left by myself.” But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found out that Malcolm was not only here in Olympia, he’s got his evil eye on Ajax. “We need to talk.”

Fortunately, my husband isn’t from Earth and doesn’t know that’s the precursor to a conversation he’s not going to like. He follows me to the couch and looks at me expectantly, his beautiful, trusting face right there, ready to be punched by reality. My reality. I’m going to have to hurt him and it’s breaking me apart inside.

“Ajax, this is not working out,” I blurt.

His face closes in and confusion flits through his gaze. He doesn’t understand. I’m going to have to spell it out.

“I don’t like being married to you,” I choke out. Somehow. “I don’t like having to constantly be on guard against your strength. It’s ridiculous that you don’t speak English. I—well, we’re going to have to find an alternative arrangement for your green card.”

And then I shut my mouth because my stomach just turned over. I’m deathly afraid I might throw up, especially if I have to keep spewing these lies. None of that is even remotely how I feel. I love being married to him. I love that he’s so strong but so sweet and tender with me. I love that I have to pay extra attention to his face and his non-verbal cues to understand him, and somehow I always do.

I love him.

Oh, God. I’m in love with my husband. Where did that come from?

Ajax shifts on the couch, his frame collapsing a little as he processes what I’m telling him. The look on his face wrecks me. He’s hurting and I want nothing more than to gather him up in my arms. To protect him from this awful reality of Earth.

But that’s what I’m doing by sending him away. Charmaine said if I didn’t want to be married anymore, she’d come pick up Ajax, no questions asked. That’s what needs to happen. If he’s in Switzerland with the people who manage the Torvian relocation program, he’ll be safe. Malcolm won’t bother with him any longer if Ajax is out of the picture.

“No leave,” he says and the thread of misery in his tone cracks my heart open.

“You have to,” I explain, infusing as much harshness into my voice as I can to get my point across. “I don’t want you here any longer.”

He shakes his head and tentatively reaches out to touch my hand. “No leave. Keep Brooklyn safe. Love Brooklyn.”

I love you too. I swallow the words even as my heart knits itself back together, full and bursting with the knowledge that he’s feeling the same things I am. That we could make it if only my past hadn’t reared its ugly head.

This is my one singular opportunity to be brave. And I have to do it for Ajax’s sake.