Moon(63)
Harley’s dark eyes narrowed and he softly growled. “You’re pulling that card?”
“Yes. Get her to safety and stay with her.”
“Fuck.” Harley spun away and marched toward the door. “You don’t play fair.”
“Put on some pants first,” Moon called out. The idea of Joy seeing so much of Harley didn’t sit well with him. What if she found him more sexually appealing? The concept alone had him ready to call Harley back. He didn’t say anything though and lay still.
Chapter Eleven
Joy paced the living room of the cottage and chewed on her bottom lip. Harley watched her from the couch, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that helping any? This exercise of yours?”
She resisted the urge to flip him off. The male was annoying but she knew he was worried about what was going on with Moon at Medical. So was she. Harley had told her about the object in Moon’s arm.
“You should have told me about his arm before we left Medical.”
“Would you have left?”
She stopped walking. “No.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Doesn’t the NSO have antimissile systems or something similar to shoot anything down if someone launches an attack?”
“We have armed guards with weapons to deal with anything that is a threat. We aren’t sure why anyone associated with Mercile would put a tracker inside Moon but that’s the nastiest scenario we could think of and it’s better to be prepared for the worst. Maybe they only wanted to see if we’d fly him to Homeland from Reservation. They may have wanted to track our flight patterns. We change them often after one of our helicopters was shot down. I can think of a dozen more reasons they might have done it.”
“I don’t know how you live like this.” Joy paced again. “So many assholes to deal with and so much danger. Why can’t they leave Species alone?”
“We wish they would stop harassing us too. Wishing doesn’t make it so.” He crossed his ankles, his bare toes wiggling. “Your world isn’t so safe either. We get your news on our televisions. There are no muggings, rapes, or carjackings on NSO lands.”
Joy kept pacing.
“We don’t steal from each other. We don’t—”
“I get it!” She groaned. “I’m overreacting and not being reasonable. Your crime rate is much lower here. I’m a bit freaked out over the whole tracker-missile thing. You have to admit that is kind of sinister.”
“The term enemy implies they aren’t pleasant to deal with.”
Joy knotted her hands together at her waist and shot him an exasperated look. “I’m ranting, Harley. It’s a normal way for people to express their frustrations. I’m worried about Moon and what is going on with him.”
“Oh. This is a human thing?” One eyebrow arched.
“Yes.” She shrugged and relaxed. “More specifically, a woman thing. You’re supposed to nod, not start an argument with me.”
“Got it.”
She studied him. “You’re pretty calm for a Species under stress.”
“We’ve come a long way since we were freed, Doc. Don’t expect me to lie back on this couch and start discussing how I feel. It isn’t happening. I’m also not going to tear up my fists punching your nice walls. It’s tempting but it won’t accomplish anything unless you want a more open feel between the kitchen and living room.”
Joy smiled. She liked the Species when he wasn’t threatening her or accusing her of doing nefarious things to Moon. “I doubt the NSO would appreciate you remodeling one of the guest cottages.”
“Probably not.” He glanced at his wrist and then sighed. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a watch.”
“What happened to it?” She was curious about how dependent Species had become on technology. It had been a long time since she’d been around them. Gadgets had been foreign to them after Mercile.
“I laid everything too close to that stove. My watch and boots were ruined.” He glanced down his body at the sweats and NSO-logo T-shirt with a grimace. “I miss my jeans but I promised Moon I’d make sure you got here and stayed.”
“I won’t try to find my way back to Medical. I realize I’d need an escort and that it would alarm anyone who saw me walking around without one. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“I keep my word, Doc. Even to a head shrink.”
Her good mood fled. “Your people agreed to therapy as well as mine. Do you know how irritating it is to be called that? Head shrinking implies something horrible and it sounds painful. All we wanted to do was help you adjust to life outside Mercile. You needed to have had someone there to talk to and connect with after all you’d been put through. That’s basic compassion and common sense to help someone in need. It wasn’t easy for us either.”