Page 6 of Grumpy Alien Boss

CHAPTER 6

DAR

A half-empty coffee cup sails past my head. These protesters have terrible aim. I pull Olivia closer, shielding her with my body as we push through the angry crowd.

"Murderer!" A scruffy man in hemp clothing lunges at us.

"Back off." My voice carries enough threat that he retreats.

"Darwin, maybe we should-"

"Keep moving." I deflect a wadded-up newspaper before it hits her face. The smell of patchouli and unwashed bodies mingles with Olivia's lingering arousal. The combination makes my head spin.

We reach the front doors. Chains snake through the handles, secured with heavy padlocks. Two police officers stand guard, radioing for backup.

"Sorry Mr. Rook. Bolt cutters are on the way."

I grunt in acknowledgment. Olivia presses against my back, her breath warm on my neck. After what happened in the limo, having her this close is pure torture.

"You're destroying the planet!" Someone hurls an empty water bottle.

I catch it mid-air. "If you care so much about the environment, why are you throwing plastic?"

The protestor's face turns red. More shouts rise from the crowd. Signs wave in the air - "Save the Rainforest" and "Stop the Destruction."

"Darwin." Olivia's fingers dig into my arm. "What's this about? Did your company really destroy part of the rainforest?"

The hurt in her voice cuts deep. I want to explain that sometimes sacrifices are necessary, that there are bigger threats than deforestation. But I can't tell her the truth. Not yet.

"We need to focus on getting inside." I scan the crowd, looking for any real threats among the peaceful protestors. All I want is to get Olivia somewhere private and finish what we started. Instead, I'm stuck dealing with this mess.

The bolt cutters finally arrive. Metal screeches against metal as the officers work on the chains.

"How does it feel to murder Earth's lungs?" The protestor shouts as police drag him away. His dreadlocks whip around his face. "You're killing us all!"

"Darwin would never do that." Olivia steps forward, chin raised. "He donates millions to environmental causes."

My chest tightens. The faith in her voice tears at me. The crowd goes quiet, waiting for my response.

"The story is true."

"What?" Olivia spins to face me. "But why?"

"Sometimes difficult choices must be made." The words taste like ash in my mouth. If only I could tell her about the fungal infection spreading through those trees, engineered by the Grolgath to devastate Earth's oxygen supply. About how we had to contain it before it spread beyond control.

Her green eyes cloud with disappointment. The same eyes that sparkled with passion in the limo just an hour ago. Now they pierce me like daggers.

A rock strikes the wall beside us. More projectiles follow. I pull Olivia against me, sheltering her from the barrage. Her safety matters more than her approval.

The thought hits harder than any debris. If she joins Veritas, she'll face far worse than angry protestors. She'll be a target for the Grolgath, forever marked as my ally in this secret war.

The police finally clear a path. I guide Olivia through the doors, my hand protective on her lower back. She doesn't pull away, but the distance between us has grown far wider than physical space.

The elevator doors close with a soft ding. My heart pounds, but not from exertion. Olivia's disappointment cuts deeper than any weapon could.

"Olivia, allow me to explain?—"

"Explain that you're a hypocrite who only pretends to care about the environment?" The venom in her voice makes me flinch.

Words fail me. How can I justify my actions without revealing everything? The weight of secrets presses down, threatening to crush what's building between us.

The elevator jerks to a stop. Wrong floor. I didn't press?—

Doors slide open. A man in a black ski mask levels a gun at us.

"The planet can't fight back, but I can!"

Time slows. The gun barrel aims at Olivia's chest. No choice. I dive in front of her as the shot cracks through the air.

The bullet strikes my chest with familiar pressure. Like a finger poking through fabric. My scales deflect it easily.

Pure instinct takes over. I launch forward, wrapping my arms around the gunman's waist. We crash to the floor together, his weapon skittering across polished tile.

Red haze clouds my vision. This worthless human dared to put Olivia in danger. My claws itch to emerge, to tear his fragile flesh. To rip his head clean off his shoulders for threatening what's mine.

No. Control. I can't reveal myself. Can't kill him.

I backhand him with the barest fraction of my strength. His head snaps to the side. Teeth scatter across the floor like bloody dice. He slumps unconscious, jaw already swelling.

The rage subsides as I turn to Olivia. Her safety is all that matters.

"Are you all right?"

She rushes toward me. My arms open, expecting an embrace. Instead, her fingers fumble with my shirt buttons.

"Darwin, you were shot!"

"I'm fine, Olivia. Stop." I grasp her wrists gently, but she twists free.

"You took a bullet for me. Let me see!"

Her fingers work faster than I can safely stop her without risking injury. The holographic emitters need a fraction of a second to compensate for newly exposed skin. If she opens my shirt too quickly...

"Please, I just need to make sure you're-"

My shirt falls open. A gasp escapes her lips and my hearts stop. This is it. She's seen what I really am. Everything we've built together ends now in horror and rejection.

"I don't believe it."

I brace myself for her scream. For her to recoil in terror at the sight of my scales.

But instead, she holds something between her fingers. The flattened bullet that bounced off my armored hide, compressed into a disk of lead and copper.

"It's still warm," she whispers, eyes wide with wonder rather than fear. "How are you alive?"

Relief floods through me as I glance down at my still-concealed chest. The holographic emitters held. But now Olivia stares at me, waiting for an explanation about the bullet.

"Must have hit my tie clip." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

"You're not wearing a tie clip." Her eyes narrow, studying my exposed shirt.

Before she can press further, boots thunder down the hallway. Security rounds the corner, weapons drawn.

"Mr. Rook! We got reports of-" The guard's eyes lock onto the unconscious gunman. "Holy shit."

"Call the police," I order, grateful for the interruption. "And get medical attention for this waste of oxygen."

The next hours blur into a parade of uniforms and questions. Detectives document the scene while paramedics cart away our would-be assassin. Olivia and I give separate statements, never getting a moment alone to finish our conversation.

I watch her from across the room as she describes the attack to an officer. The bullet sits in an evidence bag, along with the gun. Her fingers keep drifting to her throat, a nervous tell I've noticed before.

When she finishes her statement, Olivia glances my way. Questions burn in her eyes - about the rainforest, about the bullet, about everything. I should go to her, try to explain. But what could I possibly say that wouldn't make things worse?

She gathers her purse and coat. My feet stay rooted to the floor as she walks to the elevator. Tomorrow. I'll figure out what to tell her tomorrow.

The doors close, taking her away. Taking with her all the warmth and light from my day.