Page 22 of Claimed by an Alien Warrior

As he stared down at her, something in his face softened, and he eased his hold. “I cannot keep you safe if you are not nearby.”

“The vending machine is near the office,” Zoey said, her fear dwindling. He said he wanted to keep her safe; okay, sure.Great. But part of her suspected his reaction was because he didn’t trust her not to run, and that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if he believed she was going to betray him. “It’s not far, and I won’t be long. You can…do your business while I’m gone. Use the toilet and maybe…” Her attention shifted to the dried blood on his face and shoulder. “Maybe take a shower? We can eat when you’re done.”

“You will return soon?”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say there was the tiniest shred of desperation in his voice.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ll be right back.”

His thumbs moved in small, soothing circles over her hips, and he removed his hand from the door to cup her chin. The scales on his palm were rough, but not painfully so; they were just enough to elicit a thrill in her at every point of contact.

He lowered his face, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled. “Quickly then, little human.”

Was she mad about him calling herhumanbefore? This time, his words ignited a fire deep inside her, his voice gently stoking the flame like a soft breath.

“Okay,” she rasped.

He released her reluctantly and stepped back. She made the mistake of letting her gaze dip.

Oh, yeah. He took the blanket off, but never made it into the bathroom.

And he was hardening!

Eyes wide, Zoey spun to the door and fumbled for the handle. “Make sure you cover yourself before you come out,” she said hurriedly, escaping the room the instant the door was open wide enough for her to fit through. Once she was out, she slammed it shut behind her.

Zoey hauled her purse strap back up and clutched the bag to her chest, taking a deep breath. Not in a million years could she have guessed how this day would go. Eighteen hours ago, she’d been getting ready for work, telling herself things were hard, but it would all work out while she brushed her teeth. That felt like a lifetime ago, now.

She walked along the building, rounding it to head for the vending machine. If nothing else, it felt good to be up and moving. She was so used to being on her feet for ten-plus hours a day, every day, that sitting in her little car for long stretches could shift from uncomfortable to painful rather quickly.

There was a loud thump from the inside of one of the rooms as Zoey passed. She jumped and veered away as a man and woman began shouting at each other, their voices barely muffled by the wall.

How many times had she heard arguments like that in some of the foster homes she’d lived in, or from the surrounding apartments back in Santa Barbara?

“Right at home,” she whispered.

When she arrived at the vending machine, Zoey opened her purse and reached in for her wallet. Her fingers brushed over the candy bars she’d stuffed inside before bumping against the slender case of her phone. She’d silenced it after loading her stuff in the car and hadn’t checked it since. Closing her eyes, she took several fortifying breaths before taking the phone out. She held it in the palm of her hand for several seconds. There was nothing to be afraid of on the phone. It held nothing but words.

So why the dread in her gut?

Opening her eyes, she pressed the side button and looked down at her notifications. The screen was filled with texts and missed calls. Sighing, she unlocked the phone and went to the home screen. She had six missed calls and the little text icon showed twenty-six messages waiting for her in the corner. She pressed it.

Joshua was at the top of the conversations list, with twenty-five unread messages. Zoey bit her lip; she still felt something for him, even after what he’d done, and she hated that. His betrayal had stricken deep.

WillIever be enough?

She checked the only other message first — a quick text from Mel telling her to be safe.

Knowing it was stupid, Zoey went back to the list of conversations and pressed on Josh’s name.

im sorry zo. i was a jerk. plz dont b mad.

we can still b friends. i want 2 b.

zo, plz answer me. i didnt mean 2 hurt u.

Zoey scrolled through the messages. He begged her to forgive him, begged for another chance, told her they could remain roommates – even had the nerve to suggest a threesome. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted, but Zoey had figured it out by now.

Joshua wanted the security of someone who would enable him to sit on his ass playing video games all day without getting mad when he brought other women over.

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