Page 33 of Taming Chaos

He secretly hoped to have more moments like that; exquisite snatches of time where they were just two people trying to get to know one another.

Simple things were always the best.

Control yourself, fool!

Now was not the time to yearn for intimacy.

“We have to go.”

“Go where?” Uncertainty danced in Seph’s eyes. “What is this place?”

Torin sighed. “A Bartharran pirate-trader ship. Not the most sophisticated of vessels, I know, but if you do exactly as I say, there’s a chance we might get out of here alive.” He edged closer, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Seph, I don’t know how to explain what you just saw. If you understand anything about Bartharran culture, then you’ll understand what I just did.”

Torin walked forward until the point of Seph’s plasma gun was pressed against his chest. It was only then that her arm stopped shaking. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I think I understand… a little. It’s something about dominance, isn’t it?”

“Bartharrans only respect strength. I had to make sure there were no lingering doubts about my status.”

“Top of the food chain, or something like that?”

Torin felt a little awkward wearing his Kordolian mantle of supremacy. “Something like that.”

“This place… it makes Earth look so tame.”

“I know.”

His eyes dropped to his plasma gun as she gripped it tightly. It looked so wrong in her hands. Torin hated the fact that he had to arm her, but he had no choice. He couldn’t leave her toothless, not here.

Thankfully, the inside of the crate was shrouded in shadow, and with their poor vision, the Bartharrans wouldn’t be able to see the gun from here; they wouldn’t be left to wonder why Torin’s supposed property had been given her own weapon.

In an attempt to reassure her, he tried to make his expression gentle; tried to lighten his tone. He suspected he failed miserably. “So are you going to shoot me with that thing, or are you going to put it away? It’s yours, you know. I’m not going to take it away from you.” He sensed the plasma gun gave her a sense of security, just like her cloak.

As Seph stared at him, Torin held his breath. She looked him up and down, her expression betraying nothing. The woman who had looked so vulnerable just a heartbeat ago had become inscrutable, complex.

Slowly, slowly, she lowered the plasma gun. “Even if I shot you at point-blank range, I wouldn’t kill you, would I?”

Torin shook his head. He’d sustained much, much worse damage during his brutal career as a First Division soldier. In ordinary circumstances his body could regenerate from brutal injuries within the span of a few sivs.

That didn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt, though. As part of his training, he’d been conditioned to withstand episodes of excruciating agony, but he’d rather avoid being shot in the chest if he could help it. “If it makes you feel any better, you would cause me a lot of pain.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not an ordinary Kordolian?”

“Because I’m nice?” It was true. The others often gave him shit for being too nice to humans, but Torin couldn’t help it. In another life, he probably would have been a friendly sort of guy.

A pacifist.

Now why was that notion so amusing?

“You’re nice, huh? I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Seph’s expression was completely deadpan, but… was there a hint of humor in her voice? It would be truly remarkable if she could find something funny in all of this.

“Only to you.” Torin had to admire the way she kept her composure when she could have let her fear control her. “Please don’t hurt me.”

An exasperated puff of air left her lips. “You’re ridiculous. This is ridiculous.”

Was it just his imagination, or was that the shadow of a smile? The notion that he could invoke her amusement here of all places—somehow, it was powerful. “I know. It’s about to become even more ridiculous.”

“How so?”

“We have to sort-of stay in character.”

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