The Abduction (6 page)

Samantha
turned away, focusing her attention on the scrolling alien text that looked eerily like her world’s stock market channel.

He acts as though I’m his brother’s girlfriend brought home for the holidays. Do
neither of them realize that I was forced here? Do they care?

“I can’t stay here,” she said slowly, watching him from the corner of one eye. “I have responsibilities at home.
A life.”

Rikist sat still, unmoving. If he’d heard her, he gave no indication.

Exhaustion from the events of the last two days pressed heavy on Samantha’s shoulders, and she leaned back against the couch, letting herself sink into the soft cushions as she finished off the bottle. Her vision wavered. The new anchor’s voice sounded hollow and muffled, as if he were speaking underwater, and Samantha closed her eyes to imagine golden-eyed cats swimming about with red and yellow fish in a gray concrete box…

Samantha’s eyes slid slowly open. The monitor was still on, the announcer replaced with a new face and the same scrolling text rolling by tirelessly.
Several empty bottles sat stacked on the edge of the coffee table, reflecting the morning light peeking in through the cracks between the closed curtains.

She sighed
and shifted against the wall of warmth cradling her side and back, feeling worlds better than she had before Rikist’s homeopathic treatment of her cold. In fact, she felt healthy and rested as if she’d slept for a week.

The heat
ed bed below her shifted again, and warm breath blew across her brow and hair. Samantha blinked away sleep, lifting her head slightly to look about.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she was still on the couch, and not alone. She lay
propped up across Krissik’s chest as slept reclined against the armrest, one arm over his head and the other draped around her shoulders with legs outstretched along the length of the couch. Samantha’s body lay parallel to his; their bodies pressed together in a solid line across the narrow cushions.

Krissik
shifted again in his sleep, grimacing as he repositioned his head on his arm before going still. His breathing deepened, and he snored lightly as his hand on her shoulder went limp. His face slackened to peaceful forgetfulness, and Samantha caught herself staring at the strong lines of his jaw and brow.

She
twisted her head to look toward the window, where the armchair sat empty, and then to the closed bedroom door where she assumed Rikist had retired. She moved slowly, not wanting to wake Krissik, and began to slide off the couch.

Krissik’s arm tightened around her waist and pulled her back down. He shifted onto his side and curled up against her back, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder.
He suddenly seemed wide awake.

Samantha cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I need to wake for work anyway.”

“I don’t remember falling asleep,” she said,
trying to wiggle free.

“You were sleeping before I finished clearing out Rikist’s room. And you looked… peaceful. So after I helped him to bed I just crawled up beside you.
”

In a flash Krissik
leaned over her, his elbows against the cushions on each side of her head. He lowered his head until their faces were inches apart. He licked his lips.

“K-Kris…” Samantha stammered. She was afraid to move, and her heart pounded.  “Kris, I don’t—”

Krissik rubbed his cheek against hers, like a cat begging for a rub down. “Do not worry. I said I would not force you.” He sniffed at her neck. “I just want to kiss.”

She searched his face.
She wasn’t sure why, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed with him. “Just a kiss?”

He nodded.

The request seemed simple enough. And she figured if she humored him enough that he wouldn’t persist in pushing further. Samantha pursed her lips, and then lifted her head to quickly peck Krissik on the mouth.

He shook his head. “That was not a kiss.”

“What do you mean that wasn’t a kiss?” Samantha demanded. “Our lips touched.”

He grinned.
“I want a
real
kiss.”

Samantha
hesitated, and then ran her fingers through the top of his fur-like hair before she thought better of it. She smiled; it did feel as soft and fluffy as she thought it would. She rubbed behind his ears, and froze at a sudden, constant rumbling. She looked up at Krissik’s closed eyes and crooked smile.

“Are…” she fought to keep from grinning like a idiot. “Are you purring?”

“Hmm?”

Samantha
nearly giggled as he rolled onto his side beside her, and she leaned over him and used both hands to scratch behind his ears and the underside of his jaw. Krissik rumbled on contentedly, twisting his head to get her to hit the right spots. Samantha laughed until her eyes watered, and bent to kiss him between the eyes.

“Annoying as you are, y
ou can be so damn cute sometimes.”

Krissik’s eyes opened. “You missed.”

“What?”

He
smacked his lips together.

Samantha guffawed and shook her head. “You are persistent.”

“Is it working?”

Samantha pursed her lips,
trying hard not to smile. Krissik caught on, and rolled his head to the side, purring louder than he had before. Samantha laughed.

“Alright, alright, quit it already.” She grinned. “I’ll give you your well-earned kiss
and then you can leave me alone.”

Krissik’s eyes twinkled, and his lips slightly puckered in anticipation.

Samantha licked her lips and swallowed, and then put her hands on his chest to lean forward. Her hair cascaded down around her face as she leaned into him, and she closed her eyes as she lowered her head. She stopped, their lips just an inch apart. She could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, and she breathed in, testing. There was no smell of mint; just the slight hint of kitten fur above the musk of sleep and man. She smiled, knowing it meant that he hadn’t tried to use the pheromones to seduce her.

Their lips met, and s
he held the kiss longer than she had planned, enjoying the way he trembled below her in excitement. She smiled against him, and began to pull away.

Krissik’s hand on the back of her neck pulled her closer, and his tongue slipped between her teeth to run along t
he ridged roof of her mouth. Samantha gasped as Krissik rolled to pin her down with his upper body. He wriggled lower so that her knees came up on either side of his waist, and he grinned down at her.

Samantha glared at him. “You said just a kiss!”

“No,” he said. “I said I want
to
kiss.”

“Off.”
She glared at him. “You’re such a child.”

“I just—”

“Get off!”

Krissik
hesitated, and then nodded and slid off the couch to his feet. He looked down awkwardly. He patted down one edge of the tape on his nose as he padded into the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?”
he called from behind the counter.

“No,” she said quickly. She sat on the couch and pulled up her knees.

“You have not eaten since yesterday’s lunch.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

Samantha heard his footsteps approaching, and she buried her face in her knees. She felt him pause before her, and then his hands touched her neck and back.

“Are you feeling unwell again?”

Samantha shrugged him off. “I’m fine. Now leave me alone.”

Krissik
stepped back, his face hurt and hands up protectively. His brow scrunched as he stared at her, as if trying to decode her face.

“I am attempting to make you comfortable,” he said slowly.
“Please, do not—”

“Why?”

He seemed lost; unsure where the questions were taking them. “Because… because I do not like to see you unhappy.”

Krissik
looked down at her, his face guarded but his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil; they danced in his head as he stared at her. His lips twitched as if itching to speak, but were unable to form words. He swallowed, and looked down at the ground and took a shaky breath.

“I am sorry.”

She nearly bounced against the cushion’s springs in surprise. That wasn’t what she was expecting, and especially when it sounded so… sincere.

“For what?” she asked hesitantly, her voice no more than the squeak of a mouse.

He sucked in his breath and looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for words. After a moment he sighed and shrugged, his shoulders sagging under some heavy load.

“Everything.
For upsetting you. For bringing you here.”

Samantha stared at him, watching him struggle for words as he fought to explain past the limitations of the translator.
She allowed herself to settle further onto the couch, the tension slowly seeping out of her shoulders and running down into her back to transfer into the cool microfiber of the cushions. The air around them seemed to still as she waited, suddenly patient and no longer angry.

“I know you do not want to be here,” he continued. “I do not like to see you unhappy… I just want a chance to…”

Whether it was his being young on a planet lacking in females, a cultural issue or simply the language barrier, Samantha realized he truly lacked the capacity to express his apparent care for her. There was no doubt she wanted off that planet, but it wasn’t in her nature to destroy people on the way out. And the kid really did seem genuine.

Letting my anger get the best of me isn’t going to get me home. But maybe figuring out what makes him tick will get him to understand why I can’t stay.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” she said.

Krissik
thought for a moment, and then let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around her stiff shoulders, his body molding around hers. He pressed his lips against the top of her head, breathing in her scent.

Samantha felt him smile against her hair, and she closed her eyes and
allowed herself to lean into the hug. Regardless of the source, it did feel nice to just be held. She sniffed the air, frowning.

“What’s that smell?”

He jerked upright and darted into the kitchen.

Samantha heard the pan sizzle as he flipped the meat and added water. She looked up to see a small plume of smoke billowing around
Krissik’ head. She laughed and stood to get a better view.

Krissik
turned and glared at her. “This is not funny.”

“A little.” She stifled her chuckle. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

The smoke subsided, and Krissik picked up the knife to finish chopping the vegetables. “I have to get ready for work. Please go see if Rikist is hungry.”

Samantha frowned. She wasn’t keen on going into
Krissik’ brother’s room to wake him, especially not knowing what she might run into or what rude greeting she could receive. He could starve for all she cared.

She
sighed and walked to the closed door, steeled herself and knocked.

“Rikist?”

No answer. She wrapped her knuckles louder, her other hand reaching for the panel.

“Rikist?”

A grunt and the shuffling of sheets fluttered through the door, followed by a groggy, “Y-yeah?”

“Are you hungry?”

No answer.

Samantha waited, knocked again, and glanced back toward the kitchen where she could hear
Krissik moving about.

“He’s not getting up,” she called.

The kitchen went silent, and Krissik’s head popped around the corner; a look of concern crossed his face, as if sleeping in was a very odd behavior for his brother. He wiped his hands on towel as he walked briskly past Samantha, and quickly swiped one finger against the panel to open the door and then stepped inside without invitation.

“Rikist?”

Samantha held back in the doorway, afraid of what she might see if they had caught Rikist off guard. One naked alien in her mind’s eye was enough. She kept her eyes low and slowly roamed about his dark room, looking anywhere but directly to the bed.

The large room’s furnishings matched the modern
, minimalist theme of the rest of the apartment; a large double platform bed in the center, a nightstand, and a desk and chair to the side of the open closet. Uniforms, both what appeared to be field and military dress, hung in straight lines below shelves that held more military paraphernalia, medals, and a digitally coded safe. Below the single shuttered window on the far left sat a padded, claw foot armchair littered with clothes and a few shiny medals on ribbons that seemed to have been carelessly tossed from the empty duffle on the floor. Several blankets spilled off the side of the mattress, and a white undershirt lay crumbled by the door by a discarded pair of boots.

The
darkness split and Samantha jerked back as Krissik opened the shades and window before turning back to the bed.

“You need fresh air in here,”
Krissik said.

Samantha glanced to the bed unconsciously, and was glad Rikist was decent. He was shirtless, and wore the pants from yesterday under the large brace.
His auburn hair was mussed and wet around his hairline, splayed out around his head like a halo. The dark stripes that covered Krissik’ body were faded on Rikist’s masculine face, neck and arms so that they were barely visible, but remained a stark brown that crept up his sides and waist. A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, pooling in the curve of his neck and soaking the thick, wide patch of white fur on his broad chest and solid line that ran down through his muscled abs and thickened between his curved obliques before disappearing into his waistband.