“You know, I do have a hand that works.”
“Yes, but he wants to help. It’s what a ma?—”
“Thank you, Klath.”
Gark slid the packet into the pocket of his pants and approached the bed to stand close enough that her knees brushed his leg. It was a long way up for a small human, he told himself, as he reached for her, to help her off the bed, knowing it was just an excuse to touch her again.
She stiffened, holding her wrist close to her chest. He paused, frowning, hands on her hips. His fingers flexed, involuntarily, against her soft flesh.
“Is everything all right?”
She snorted, cheeks pink. “Sure. I’m fine.” Her voice squeaked a little, and she coughed. “Isn’t it cool that the cast only needs to be on for a few days? I think that’s really cool. Ittakes weeks and weeks on Earth for a break to heal, and surgery sometimes.” Her cheeks turned even pinker.
His frown deepened. “You are nervous.”
She nodded and then shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Um, help me down.”
He complied, lifting her from the bed and reluctantly releasing his grip on her when her feet met the floor, but she held onto his forearm like she never wanted to let him go.
I have you, fierce one.
Neither spoke on the short walk to his quarters, though Gark was aware of the heat of her body at his side, the tightening of her fingers against his as they made their way toward the crew quarters, and past where A’Kar had grabbed her.
“Are you all right?” He asked, then immediately wanted to smack himself. Her whole life had been turned upside down, her only family torn from her, and then she’d been kidnapped, assaulted, and injured.
Of course she wasn’t all right.
He swiped his wrist over the door panel, gesturing for her to enter the cabin before him. She hesitated, her eyes holding his for a long moment before she stepped over the threshold.
“I’m sorry,” he said, standing in the doorway. The words felt inadequate.
“What for?” She turned to face him, kicking off her sneakers and sighing as she wiggled her toes.
“I should have done more to protect you. You shouldn’t have had to go through…that.” He shook his head, anguished. “I’m so sorry.”
She took a step toward him and reached for his hand. He hadn’t realized he’d curled his fingers into fists until she gently pried them open.
“Don’t do that.”
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Should all over yourself.” He must have looked very confused because she gave a small smile and explained. “You know, when you think you should have done this or that. Sure, maybe, but what’s done is done. You can’t change the past. Why torture yourself over something you can’t change?”
He blinked. “But it’s my fault?—”
She raised on her tiptoes and pressed a finger against his lips. “Shut up, Gark. You like to take the world on your shoulders, but this is not your fault. The Xakuls? Yes. A’Kar’s? Yes. The Alliance, or whatever they want to call themselves? Yes.” She settled back on her heels and pulled her hand away. “But it’s not your fault any more than it’s mine.”
Something loosened in Gark’s chest at her words, and his shoulders lowered.
“You don’t blame me?”
She shook her head. “No. Of course not.”
He was still standing in the doorway and cleared his throat awkwardly. He should leave her to clean up and rest. He took a step back into the hallway.
“Goodnight, Aletta.”
She grabbed his hand. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”
