She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“About what?”
“Everything.”
“Now don’t do that. I’m sure the captain would have done something to you by now if he was going to hurt you. He’s probably deciding whether to turn you into the authorities once we get back on Earth. I’m sure if we both try we can convince him not to. We’ll figure this out.”
“That’s not it.”
“It’s not?”
“I love him,” she blurted out.
Pigeon went silent. Unable to look at him, she dropped her hands to her lap and stared at them.
“That’s a problem,” he eventually responded.
“I know.” And that wasn’t even half of it. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”
“Have you told him?”
“No.”
“I’d start there.”
“He’s my enemy.” He’d just said it, though not out loud.
“And you knew that and still took a job working for him? Forthem.” Alexa knew Pigeon meant Cyborgs and humans in general. “Is he really your enemy, or just an asshole? Because if he was your enemy, I don’t think you would’ve spent the last couple months in his company.”
A laugh burst from her throat. “I wish it were that simple.”
God, if only.
Pigeon placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head so she had to look at him. The wrinkles on his brow deepened.
Old eyes searched hers. “Why did you take the job knowing what you know? Are you in some trouble?”
“Why does everything think that? I’m not in any trouble.”
“Well, knowing the history of your—umm—alien ancestry, it is a strange choice to make. It’s dangerous enough for you to be around humans, but Cyborgs? You’d have to have a reason, unless you enjoy the risk. In the time I’ve known you, you’re not a risk taker, Alexa. It only makes me believe it more that you’re not here of your own volition.”
“That would be easier, wouldn’t it? If I had an excuse.”
“You’re saying you don’t? You risked yourself for nothing?” Pigeon shook his head. “That’s not the Alexa I know. Despite your reasons, you’ve been found out, and now you only have two choices.”
“Beg him to save me? Or face my fate head on?”
“Tell him the truth.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“There’s some things I can’t explain because they’re too hard to put into words. If I try, I find myself drowning…”
“You’re scared.”
Her breath hitched. “I’m scared,” she agreed. “I’m scared that if I tell him everything, the world will end. I’m scared that he knows I’ll break—I’m breaking—and that if he waits me out, I will tell him everything, and then what? He may kill me then, take me to the authorities. Or worse… I’m scared that if I tell him, he’ll look at me with disgust and break my heart.”
