Page 4 of When She's Handy

MELODY

I’m flustered and distracted as I drop my scrap off in the cellar I’ve staked out at the boarding house for my projects. It’s filled with clutter of all kinds, but the clutter has a purpose. With all these scraps, I can make things we had back on Earth, or repair things that an alien might charge a lot more for. I even made a bicycle for one of the women on a remote farm because driving her air-sled made her nervous, and I’ve had requests for two more. I’ve been picking at them, but without the right metal frame, I haven’t gotten very far.

I’m not thinking about the half-built bicycles today, though.

My thoughts are on Brux. The alien I never thought I’d see again.

My hero. My savior. The alien who won me my freedom.

Five years ago, I worked for an old mesakkah—one of the blue aliens with horns. He was the meanest son of a bitch, and spent all his time pinching and hitting me if I didn’t work fast enough. That old alien was a scrapper, too, and he taught me a lot. His hands didn’t work as well as they did when he was younger, so he used me to do the delicate repair work on things. And he starved me and kicked me and treated me like the worst junkyard dog. I’m told that humans are expensive, so I’m not sure why he wanted one if he was just going to beat the crap out of me and abuse me, but maybe he wanted to make sure that whatever slave he got he could beat up on without fear of reprisal.

That was my life, dodging slaps and trying frantically to work fast enough to avoid the next hit. Trying to “behave” so I’d get fed that day. Brux showed up at the scrapper’s junk hole one day. I’m not even sure what he was looking for. But he watched the old guy beat up on me while I tried to work and then turned around and left. Which made my owner hit me even harder.

Neither of us had counted on Brux returning, though. He did. Threw a bag of credits onto the counter and demanded my price. My owner didn’t even haggle. Just named some astronomically high price and Brux shoved the bag of credits across the counter and unlocked my collar.

He led me to a hotel that night and ordered food. I scarfed everything down and showered, and cried I was so happy. The moment I got out of the shower and in Brux’s oversized tunic, I sat next to my new owner and let him know just how happy I was.

I seduced him.

Brux declined my advances, like any decent guy would. But I had a full belly and I was away from that old monster, and at this point, anything would be better. I put my mouth all over him, ignoring his attempts to brush me aside, and sat myself down onto his lap—and his cock.

For all that he’s an enormous alien with tree trunks for arms and legs, his cock was the perfect size. Better than that, he was exceedingly gentle with me and made sure that I wasn’t hurting or scared. He came, I didn’t, but it didn’t matter to me. It was about connection, and gratitude, and just celebrating that my circumstances had changed.

But I think it made Brux feel weird about things. Because in the morning, he took me directly to the doorstep of Lord va’Rin and left me there.

Lord va’Rin took me in, of course. I’m just one of many humans that he’s rescued and we’re starting over here on Risda III. I’ve been here for a while, too. Not farming, because I don’t have the patience for crops and animals. Instead, I scrap and repair things for the humans who don’t like calling an alien to fix their stove, or their comm unit, or whatever. I can figure out most of it just by looking at the guts of the tech, and if it takes a little longer for me to repair something, no one minds.

I’ve tried to move on past Brux, too. I dated one or two men that stopped by this planet. One was a lovely a’ani gentleman named Aithar who made it clear that he was very interested in me. But for me, there’s only one perfect guy in the universe, and he’s got broken horns, an alien face, and the gentlest hands the size of baseball mitts.

For me, it was love at first sight. I don’t care that most people would find him unpleasant to look at, or that his glare can peel paint. I know the real Brux. I know that he saw a slave being abused and dropped everything to help, when so many others had just ignored my situation. He made sure I was somewhere safe, and he never contacted me again.

This is a sign, though. Brux is here, on Risda, and it’s clear he had no idea I was in the vicinity. Fate is bringing us back together, and this time, I’m not going to take no for an answer.

I’m going to shoot my shot, and I don’t care how many times he says no. I know I can get him to say yes.

CHAPTER

FOUR

MELODY

The next morning, I pull my hair up into a knot atop my head, just like I used to wear it back when I was a slave. Then, it was to keep the filthy mess out of the way, but this time I want it up because I want Brux to remember me from five years ago. I’ve filled out and I’m no longer covered in bruises, but I’m still the same woman. Just a little bolder, a little braver, and someone that gives a lot less fucks.

I wave at the custodians posted at the front of the construction area. They’re used to seeing me around, so my presence isn’t surprising. I’m dressed in my usual scrapping clothing, with a reinforced apron over my tunic and leggings and sturdy boots. I’ve left my sun hat off, though. I want Brux to get a good look at me, to see the excitement in my eyes. To know that I’m not full of shit when I invite him to dinner. It’s not about pity or gratitude.

It’s about me being unable to forget him, even for a day. And I’m going to take advantage of the fact that he’s here.

The scrap pile is just where I left it, and a few of the crew notice me working but don’t come by to watch this time. Someone must have said something to them. Hm. No Brux, either. I know better than to get in the way of the equipment and the workers, so I remain where I am. Instead, I pick up two pieces of metal and clang them both together like a dinner bell. CLANG CLANG CLA-CLANG CLA-CLA-CLANG CLANG CLANG.

I keep right on clanging until one of the men—one of the unfortunate-looking szzt—leans over to look down at me. “What?!”

“I need to talk to Brux,” I call up. “Tell him Melody’s here.”

“Brux doesn’t want to talk to anyone?—”

I immediately start banging the metal together again. CLANG CLANG CLA-CLANG CLANG CLANG!

The alien worker gives me a disgusted look and trots off. I keep merrily banging away, knowing that someone’s going to get annoyed by my actions soon enough and it’ll flush out the man I want to see.

---