Page 9 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)
She squealed, dancing on the spot. Shit .
Reality settled upon her like ice water sliding down her back, and she leaned against the wall.
She didn’t even know how much the position paid or what the perks were.
Nor did she have a clue as to how her parents would deal with this news, but that would be their problem.
“Inform the employer of my disability.”
“They are aware,” the voice responded.
“What are the benefits, the salary?” She waited.
“Seven thousand tokens and a room.”
She almost sobbed. Half her current salary for the distance? Could she survive on so little? At least, she didn’t need to worry about rent.
“Confirm acceptance of offer,” she said into her palm.
“Acceptance confirmed.” The robotic voice tingled and was a little distant since she hadn’t held her hand to her ear for clarity.
She wrapped a towel around her head and threw on her pajamas. Then with a forced smile, she left her bedroom to announce the ‘good’ news.
Months Later.
Lunar Base
The Celestial Spa
“I’m sorry, Tiny, but my hands are tied. He paid upfront, and with Elise falling ill, you’re my last hope.” Madame Madelin cupped Tiny’s hand.
The implants in her fingertips told her more, flickering information across a neural pathway.
“Drink more water, Maddy,” she said, sensing dehydration through the pliancy of her skin. “Now why are you worried? Who’s the client? Is he a troublemaker?”
“He can be a little exuberant. I’ll have Mother on guard, just in case.”
Tiny grimaced. An antique AI bot dominating the unused corner didn’t create a calm atmosphere for her clients. But for Maddy to offer, that told Tiny what to expect.
“Have Mother stand outside the door. I’ll scream if I need its help.
” She squared her shoulders then tidied the towel draped over the bed’s headrest. Everything around her was a white blur, but she prepped the room after every session and did it by rote now.
As long as no one moved anything, she was fine.
“Thanks, Tiny. I owe you one.” Maddy left, her delicate tread recognizable. ‘Mr. Emerson, please, this way.”
“About damn time.” A man huffed when he entered, his feet thumping like his balls were too big and he had to compensate with wild leg swings.
His smell hit Tiny first: a mixture of sweat, overcooked onions, and lack of hygiene.
Her fingers twitched in protest. She pasted on a smile and gestured to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Emerson,” she said.
“What—?” He growled. “You gave me a blind girl?”
Maddy cleared her throat. “Tiny’s one of our best masseuses. I can, of course, refund your payment, if you prefer.”
“As long as she’s good, I’m willing to forgive and forget.” He popped something that sounded like a boot strap or his pant fastenings. The stench of unwashed feet almost made Tiny gag.
“Well, enjoy,” Maddy said and beat a hasty retreat.
Tiny gazed at the door, wishing she, too, could leave. Instead, she tried to breathe through her mouth while she waited for her client to strip and sprawl over the bed.
“Been a tough day?” she asked from the list of boring questions she kept on hand.
“You have no idea,” he muttered, his voice garbled with his face pressed into the bed.
Covering her implants spared her from diagnosing any ailments he might suffer with.
She scooped up gloves and slid them on while standing near his feet, then with two pumps from the oil dispenser, she set to work, massaging every inch of his body.
Classical music filled the room, almost masking his heavy breathing.
“You are good,” he mumbled.
She didn’t let his compliment go to her head.
With the number of clients she saw daily, their opinions didn’t matter.
This was a job, nothing more. Not what she wanted to do, that’s for damn sure, but it was far better than working at C.C.A.
Massage, dance, sleep, and repeat, just so she could eat.
No way would she meet a man, settle down, and have a kid.
Chances of that were zero. Not on her schedule.
Dad called often, begging her to come home. “A woman of thirty should be married and giving us grandbabies.”
She always responded with, “No man wants a blind wife.” Though it shut Dad up, his silence lasted about a month before he’d call for the same reason.
A squeak escaped her when she realized Mr. Emerson was no longer on the bed. She angled her head to listen, then focused on his panting no more than a meter to her left. Which put him between her and the door.
“Sir,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “Are you dissatisfied with my service?”
Lord, she prayed he was so he would leave. Her stomach grumbled, blaming her for skipping lunch. She’d have to grab a meal before changing for her shift at the bar downstairs.
“I consider you a boon,” he said, his stench closer.
She frowned. Like a lucky charm? “Please return to the bed so I may finish.” She patted the foot end for good measure.
“I offer you a little something extra for, well, a little something extra.” He chuckled. “If you’re interested, that is.”
She blinked at him, unsure she understood him correctly.
And if he meant what she thought he did, that was all manner of ‘ew.’ Instead of revealing her revulsion, she went with fake ignorance.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. If you wish to extend the package you purchased, it will mean another session.
Only thirty minutes has been allotted to you for today. ”
She didn’t expect the hand on her throat.
Nor could she prevent being thrown onto the floor, hard enough to wind her.
Every inch of her pinged in complaint. Had she wanted to call for Mother, she wouldn’t have been able to, gasping for air like she did.
All this was made worse when Mr. Emerson layered his sweaty, stench-riddled body over her, pinning her in place.
“Do you like it rough, Tiny?” he rasped in her ear, sending a shiver of disgust into the pit of her stomach.
Bile rose, but she could do nothing but squirm and kick. Her face flushed hot. A sure sign she was losing consciousness. If only his hand would ease long enough for her to draw in a breath.
A tear slipped free. This was how she would die. So fitting for the disappointment she’d turned out to be. He shifted, taking away one hand.
Blessed air, despite his smell and fetid breath, was still sweet. But the ‘zip’ of her uniform parting had her screaming as sheer panic fueled her limp muscles. When his hot touch squeezed a breast, she slapped at it, at him, anywhere she could reach.
The door opened.
Mr. Emerson was yanked off her and slammed against something.
She didn’t care, choosing to sit up and suck in air as she clutched her uniform shut. A sob escaped her. When a heavy tread approached, she scrambled backward with her free hand extended in front of her.
“Are you okay?” a man asked, his tone gentle. And he smelled of soap, grease, metal…and hay? Not a bad combination.
“I am,” she said, stroking her neck in search of bruises then wincing when she prodded them.
“Ah,” the man said. Before she could react, he hoisted her to her feet, resting a hand on her hip to steady her. “He saw someone helpless,” he growled.
“I am,” she gritted out, dipping her unseeing gaze. “Thank you, though.”
He caught her chin and tilted her head up. “I’d suggest you have your employer install cams in here to make sure you’re never vulnerable.”
She scoffed. “I’ll do that. I’m saving to buy my own AI, y’know.”
“Good.” His voice softened as if he smiled.
“Oh, Tiny, I’m so sorry,” Maddy said, coming in with a flurry of her skirts. “He’s been permanently removed from our clientele. And I’ve reported him to station security.”
“This gentleman saved me.” Tiny gestured to where her rescuer’s darker form consumed the white of the consultation room.
“Well, I’m impressed, sir. Please, your session is on the house.” Maddy crowded Tiny, her vanilla fragrance drawing nearer. She nudged Tiny’s hands aside and zipped her uniform shut. “Leave early. Take a nice, long sol-bath. I’ll cover the extra power rations.”
As grateful as Tiny was, she wanted to chat to her hero more. Under the task of removing her gloves, she sniffed. She didn’t smell him, nor had she caught fading footsteps.
“You ready?” Maddy asked but didn’t wait for Tiny to respond.
She gripped Tiny’s elbow and ushered her down the passage to the staff elevator pod. After selecting the floor, she waited for Tiny to step inside, then walked off, her dainty tread marking her progress.
Tiny slumped against the back wall of the pod while it shot up, heading to the staff cabins.
Alone at last, she wrapped her arms around her body for a self-hug.
Her hero’s suggestion held merit even though being attacked wasn’t a common occurrence.
When the pod dinged and the doors opened, she tapped the floor in front of her, just to make sure there wasn’t a gap or ledge to trip her.
The last time that had happened, she’d nursed a bruised shin for a week.
Twenty-two paces brought her to her home, the door on the left. Her thumb on the handle unlocked it.
Two meters by seven was the extent of her privacy in the dismal lower levels of Lunar Base. She’d wanted to escape and had hoped space was the answer or the chance for other opportunities. She hadn’t made it farther than the moon and wouldn’t with the little she earned.