Page 17 of Alien’s Love Child

CHAPTER 17

JESSE

L eo clings to my leg as we walk up the ramp to Davin's ship. No, not Davin - Tyren, as he calls himself. My heart pounds against my ribs with each step.

"Please, you have to remember something," I say, keeping my voice low so Leo won't pick up on my fear. "The day we met at that pit stop? The stories you told me about your crew?"

"Move." He pushes me forward with the barrel of his gun.

"Mommy?" Leo's tiny fingers dig into my thigh. "I'm scared."

I run my hand through his silver-blue hair - so much like his father's. "It's okay, baby. We're just going on a little trip."

"I told you to stop talking." The familiar rumble of his voice sends shivers down my spine, but there's none of the warmth I remember.

"The explosion at the warehouse - what happened to you?" The words tumble out despite his warning. "We thought you were dead. I mourned you."

He yanks me around to face him, those piercing eyes searching mine. For a moment, something flickers across his face - confusion, maybe recognition. But it's gone as quickly as it comes.

"I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not this Davin person."

"Then how do you explain this?" I reach out, my fingers hovering over the scar on his chest - visible through his partially open shirt. "You got this fighting those pirates near Exodus Station. You told me that story on my ship."

He jerks away from my touch. "My first job with the family. Knife fight went wrong."

"No, it wasn't. You have to remember we-"

"Enough!" The word echoes through the cargo hold. Leo whimpers, and I pull him closer. "One more word and I'll separate you two for the journey."

My mouth snaps shut. The threat in his voice is real, even if the memories aren't. I guide Leo to a bench along the wall, fighting back tears as I watch the man I loved secure the cargo bay door.

Leo's warmth against my side anchors me as I study the man at the controls. The way he moves, the set of his shoulders - it's all Davin. Even that slight hesitation before he hits the nav controls, like he's double-checking his coordinates.

"What's wrong with that man, Mommy?" Leo whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

I stroke his hair, buying time to choose my words carefully. "I'm not sure, baby."

But I am sure. The scar on his chest - I'd traced it with my fingers that night in the kitchen, when he'd told me about the pirate attack. He'd described every detail: the ambush near Exodus, the knife that caught him between the ribs, the way his crew had patched him up with their limited med supplies.

The same scar. The same story, just... twisted.

My mind races through possibilities. A twin brother? No, he'd told me he was an only child. Besides, the genetic odds of two Kaleidians having identical scars in identical places...

He turns his head slightly, catching me watching him. Those eyes - they're the same ones that had looked at me with such tenderness in that rain-soaked alley. But now they're cold, distant. Like looking at a stranger wearing a loved one's face.

The explosion at the warehouse... head trauma could explain the memory loss, the new identity. The mafia finding him, reshaping him into this "Tyren" person.

"Stop staring," he snaps.

"Can't help it," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "You look exactly like someone I used to know."

Something flickers across his face - that same flash of uncertainty I'd seen earlier. He opens his mouth as if to respond, then shakes his head and turns back to the controls.

I pull Leo closer, my mind made up. This is Davin. And somehow, I'm going to make him remember.

Leo's stomach growls loud enough to echo through the ship's cabin. He tugs at my sleeve, eyes watery. "Mommy, I'm hungry."

"Shut him up," Davin - no, Tyren - snaps from the pilot's seat. But there's a catch in his voice, a hesitation that wasn't there before.

"He's two and a half," I say, keeping my voice level. "He needs to eat regular meals. You want him quiet? He needs food."

Davin's shoulders tense. He doesn't turn around, but his fingers tap against the control panel. "Fine. Kitchenette's down the hall, first door on the right. Make it quick."

I lift Leo into my arms, his little head nestling against my shoulder. As I pass Davin's chair, his eyes flick to Leo, then away just as fast.

The kitchenette is cramped but functional. Military-grade appliances line the walls - exactly like the ones Davin described from his service days. I set Leo on the counter while I rummage through the cabinets.

"There's protein packs in the bottom drawer," Davin calls from the doorway, making me jump. He leans against the frame, arms crossed. "Should be some fruit preserves too."

"Thanks." I pull out the items, trying to ignore how his presence fills the small space. "Leo, sweetie, want some star-berries with your protein pack?"

Leo nods, but his eyes are fixed on Davin. "Your skin is pretty. Like the sky at home."

Davin's jaw clenches. For a moment, something soft crosses his face - the same look he'd given me that night in the kitchen years ago. But it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

"Just... hurry up," he mutters, turning away. But he doesn't leave, just stands there watching as I prepare Leo's meal.

I dig through more drawers, pushing aside packets of dehydrated meals and vacuum-sealed rations. "This is depressing. When's the last time you ate something that actually grew in soil?"

"Food is fuel." He shifts against the doorframe. "These are efficient."

"Efficient?" I hold up a protein pack, its silvery wrapper catching the light. "This stuff tastes like recycled boot leather. How much money do you make per job? Because I know it's enough to afford real food."

Leo giggles as he munches on his star-berries. "Boot leather!"

"The preserves are real food," he says, his jaw tightening.

"These?" I shake the jar. "They're more preservative than berry at this point. Look at the manufacture date - this jar is older than Leo."

A muscle twitches in his cheek. "If my pantry offends you so much, feel free to not eat."

"I'm just saying, for someone who can afford a ship this nice..." I gesture at the high-end appliances. "Would it kill you to stock some fresh produce? Maybe a vegetable or two?"

"Vegetables go bad. Protein packs don't."

Leo points at Davin's face. "You're turning purple!"

I glance up. Sure enough, his cheeks have darkened to a deeper blue - the Kaleidian equivalent of a blush. Leo's observation sets off another round of giggles.

"The boy needs to learn about practical nutrition," Davin mutters, but there's less edge to his voice.

"The boy needs to learn that food can actually taste good." I toss him a protein pack. "Here's your boot leather dinner."

He catches it one-handed. "It's not that bad."

"Says the man who probably hasn't tasted real food since-" I catch myself before saying 'since that night in my kitchen.' "Since who knows when."

There's something there. Something familiar coming back to his eyes.

I've found a thread, now I have to keep pulling

I follow him out of the kitchenette, leaving Leo happily munching away at his meal. "Your nav system's outdated. That's at least three generations old."

"It works fine." He strides down the corridor, but I notice how his steps slow just enough to let me keep pace.

"Sure, if you enjoy taking the scenic route everywhere. Those algorithms are ancient. No wonder it took you so long to track us down."

He stops abruptly, turning to face me. "I found you, didn't I?"

"After three years. Not exactly a speed record." I tap the corridor wall. "Bet your drift compensation's off too. That would explain the wobble during takeoff."

"There was no wobble." His blue skin darkens again, that familiar flush creeping up his neck.

"Please. I could feel it from the cargo hold. When's the last time you calibrated your thrusters?"

"Last week." He crosses his arms, mirroring my stance. "And my drift compensation is perfect."

"Is that why your shirt's buttoned wrong?"

His eyes drop to his chest, where sure enough, the buttons are misaligned.

"That has nothing to do with-" He stops, frowning. "How did you..."

"Know?" I step closer, close enough to smell that familiar scent of starship fuel and leather. "The same way I know you double-check your six before turning a corner. The same way I know you hate the taste of caffeine but drink it anyway because you think it's practical."

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something spark behind them - recognition, confusion, fear. His hand moves toward his chest, where the scar lies beneath his misaligned shirt.

"You don't know me," he says, but his voice wavers.

"Yeah, actually, I do."

"Go watch your damn kid and leave me alone." He spins away, stalking toward the cockpit. "Some of us have actual work to do."

I lean against the wall, watching his retreat. His shoulders are tight, fists clenched at his sides. He's rattled, I know he is. I'm getting through to him.

"Sure thing, boss." I push off from the wall. "Wouldn't want to distract you from your very important brooding."

He stops mid-stride, and I can practically see the muscle jumping in his jaw. "I don't brood."

"No? What do you call this whole dark and mysterious act then?"

"It's called doing my job." He doesn't turn around, but his voice has lost some of its edge. "Which would be a lot easier without your running commentary."

"Right, because silence is so much better for thinking." I start walking back toward the kitchenette. "You know where to find us when you're done pretending to check those perfectly calibrated thrusters."

A grunt is his only response, but I notice he doesn't correct me about the thrusters this time. And as I round the corner, I catch him glancing over his shoulder, that familiar crease between his brows - the one that always showed up when he was puzzling something out.

He'll be back. The Davin I knew could never resist a technical challenge, and I've just questioned his ship's maintenance. Plus, I've seen how his eyes keep drifting to Leo when he thinks I'm not looking.

It's just a matter of time.