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Grav’s bulk took up the space in the bathroom, but, rather than being oppressive, it eased her jumpiness and tension. Only that morning, she’d had him chained to the bed. However, she hadn’t viewed him as a physical threat for a while.

She hated feeling weak and vulnerable. She shuddered to think of what would have happened if he hadn’t appeared. The sexual assault served as a brutal wake-up call to keep her guard up and not take safety and security for granted. She’d left the house wide open. Never even thought to lock up.

Irony drummed a repetitive beat in her brain.

A fellow human had tried to rape and murder her—and a Progg had saved her.

Grav’s arrival still stunned her. He’d had a chance to escape but had chosen to help her instead.

Impressions and feelings had shifted. Sure, he was still silver, had bristles for hair, and hands with two thumbs, but he didn’t seem quite as alien as he had before. And those blue-blue eyes held compassion and concern.

“I’m all right,” she said to reassure him. Better with you here. Amazing really, how much she trusted him . He could have left at any time—or killed her and the rapist, scoring two humans for the campaign. She recalled him saying he’d never killed anyone before. Now he had. In defense of her.

“Let me show you how to use the shower.” She pointed out the hot and the cold and the knob that switched the stream from the faucet to the showerhead. “Turn the water on first before you get in—let it heat up a bit,” she said. From the cabinet, she got a clean towel, which she set on the vanity. Then she lowered the toilet lid and sat down, averting her head so he could undress with a modicum of privacy. She felt a little silly and awkward, but gawking as he dropped trou seemed like a violation. There’d been enough violations today.

Clothing rustled and hit the floor. The shower curtain scraped across the rod. Water came on. Ten seconds later, the curtain closed.

He groaned.

“Feels good, huh?” She looked forward again.

“Zok, yes!”

She fingered the sore bump on her forehead. The injury could have been so much worse. If not for the towel-turban, the scumbag would have cracked her head open when he slammed her face-first into the floor. She didn’t regret his death even a little. The world, especially now, was better off without human predators. Unfortunately, there were probably more like him, and law and order had been relegated to the past. Everyone would have to protect themselves.

And there were still the colluders to worry about. Maybe her attacker had been one.

She couldn’t just sashay up to a settlement and assume she’d be among friends or be welcomed. Every interaction would be fraught with apprehension, but unless she became a hermit, she had to try to reach out. People were not meant to live alone. She hadn’t realized how much she’d craved contact with other people until Grav came along.

She assumed when they parted, he would try to find his people and wait for an extraction.

The idea of Grav and her joining forces flitted through her mind, but she discarded it as unworkable. Teaming up would create more problems than it solved and guarantee they got rejected everywhere—if not killed outright. No human community would take him in; no Progg would accept her. Even if they did, she would never live among the aliens who’d murdered her people. She could not, would not forgive. Grav was an exception.

Serendipity had caused their paths to cross, and an unlikely bond had forged.

She would miss him and would never forget him, but they would have to continue on their respective paths alone.

The shower curtain ripped back, and a naked Grav stood there flashing an impressive ridged male member. Her hand shot up to cover her eyes, and she averted her head. “Geez! Give me some warning—like shut off the water!”

Well, that answers that. He’s not that different from human men. Except…is he missing testicles? She resisted the urge to peek.

“I didn’t realize there was a proper order. Sorry.” The water shut off. She heard him step out.

“Are you decent?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes.”

She looked at him. He was drying his face with the towel. “For god’s sake! You’re still naked!”

“I didn’t know decent meant clothed.” He wrapped the towel around his middle.

Nope, no testicles. Did Progg not have any? Had Grav been turned into a eunuch? Or were his gonads internal rather than external?

Testes were outside the body because sperm production required a lower temperature. Maybe his normal core body temp was cooler than a human’s. That might explain why hypothermia hadn’t killed him when he lay injured outside during the ice storm.

Perhaps males weren’t needed for reproduction; maybe his race reproduced some way other than sexually. What if his penis was just for urination? That would be a shame. Her preoccupation with his male anatomy surprised her. He was an alien! And she’d almost been raped. She doubted many sexual assault victims wanted to think about male sexual organs, human or alien.

Except, fresh out of the shower, stark naked, Grav still made her feel protected and comfortable. He wasn’t deliberately flashing. “Your people don’t have any inhibitions about nudity, do they?” she asked.

“No, why would we?” He shrugged.

Questions swirled, but now was not the time to carry on a discussion. “Tell me when you have your pants on.” She turned her face away.

The room went so silent she could hear the water dripping from the showerhead.

She risked a glance. His posture had stiffened.

“What?” she said.

“The sight of me offends you.”

“What? No!”

“You seem to be unable to bear looking at me.” He swallowed. “I do not look human.”

“No, no. It’s not that. I was a little embarrassed, not offended. We’re modest about our bodies. We don’t generally show ourselves unclothed to someone unless we have a sexual relationship with that person. I was trying to give you some privacy.”

And some asshole tried to rape me.

“Oh.” His vegan smile looked sweet. “I will try not to embarrass you, then.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

“Your head was injured.” He eyed the bump.

“I have a knot. It’s sore, but it’s okay.”

Still draped in the towel, he donned the jockey shorts and sweatpants. They were a little short, but not bad. “Okay now?” he asked.

“Okay.” Her discomfort made her feel silly. She was a nurse! She saw a lot of naked people. Maintaining a professional detachment had never been a problem.

He dropped the towel and donned the undershirt then the sweatshirt. The latter stretched taut across his torso, the sleeves hitting above his wrists. Grav was broader in shoulder and chest than Brent.

Once, she would never have given her brother’s clothing to a Progg. Never.

Grav didn’t count.

“I’m sorry about cutting up your shirt,” she said. “We can wash your pants if you’d like.”

“That would be nice,” he said.

She collected their used towels, the clothing she’d been wearing, and his pants, and, pulling her suitcase, went to the laundry room. He seemed fascinated by how the washer worked, gazing rapt as she dropped in a cleaning pod and started up the machine.

“How do your people clean clothes?” she asked.

Rolling his shoulders, he averted his gaze.

“Did I ask a forbidden question? Is laundry top secret?”

“No. I didn’t wish to make you uncomfortable.” He sighed. “I doubt secrets matter anymore. The CCU—clothing cleansing unit—is basically a vaporizer. In fact, the CCU was invented first, and then the General Ministry recognized its weapon potential.”

Her mouth twisted. “And the rest is history.”

“Something like that.” He didn’t deny it.

She eyed the harmless washing machine chugging away. I’m sorry I asked. Don’t dwell. Don’t dwell. She bent and removed her clothes from the dryer. “I’ll fold these and put them in my suitcase. Oh, there’s a tote bag in the rear of the gray car in the garage. Would you bring it in?”

He trotted off to do her bidding and returned with the bag. “What’s all this?”

“Drugs. I need to add the pills we found in the asshole’s pack.”

“I’ll get them.” He left and brought back an armload of pill bottles.

She transferred her folded clothes to the gray suitcase and stashed the pills in the tote. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” She couldn’t send him on his way on an empty stomach—she’d only left him a few power bars this morning.

“Yes!” he said. “I would.”

“Let’s see what I can rustle up.”

In the kitchen pantry, she perused the cans, boxes, and jars. “I got spoiled living in a house with a walk-in pantry,” she said. “My apartment has an efficiency kitchen. The pantry is a single cupboard.” She lifted her shoulder. “Not that I needed more. I worked such crazy hours I didn’t cook often.”

I got spoiled having a normal life.

“So, you didn’t live in this house?” he asked.

“Not in years, but I grew up here. My parents bought it when I started kindergarten—when I was five.” She brought out a jar of peanut butter, strawberry jelly, a packet of Club crackers, canned peaches, a can of tuna, a jar of mayo, and a box of saltines.

His eyes widened. “We’re going to eat all that?”

“Not all of it, and some of it will have to be thrown out after it’s opened, but there’s nothing I can do about that.” There was little waste with survival rations; they came individually portioned into meals.

He moved toward the refrigerator. “Why is this humming?”

“Don’t open that!”

He froze. “I wasn’t going to.”

“That’s a refrigerator. It keeps perishable food cold or frozen—but the power has been off for a year. It’s one giant mold culture right now. Your sensitive nose wouldn’t be able to handle it—I don’t think mine could either.

“By the way, would you help me move it away from the wall? I should unplug it to save the draw on the generator. I could turn it off, but I’d have to open the door.”

He helped her roll it out from the wall, and she pulled the plug. Humming ceased. They pushed it back in.

She got out utensils, a plate, and a bowl.

“Here’s the deal.” She held up the peanut butter jar. “You spread this on Club crackers.” She set the jar, the crackers, and the preserves by his plate. “Then you put jelly on top of it. If you prefer—I won’t judge—you can eat the peanut butter straight from the jar. Peanut is a legume with a lot of protein. The jelly comes from fruit. It’s sweet.

“We have peaches for dessert. Go ahead, eat.”

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m having tuna. I have to mix it up.”

“I’ll wait for you.” He took a seat at the bar.

She hated opening a whole jar for a single meal but even sealed, mayonnaise had a limited shelf life. Wasting it would be not using it at all. Conscious of his scrutiny, she drained the tuna and emptied it into a small bowl then added mayo, dried diced onion, and lemon pepper and mixed it all together. She’d eat it with the saltines.

She got water for them both and joined him at the kitchen bar.

His nose wrinkled. “Your food has a…pungent odor.”

“Fishy,” she said. “Because it’s fish.” She scooped some tuna salad onto a cracker and took a bite. Tuna had never tasted so good. She made a note to get more from the store before she left town. She’d probably get sick of eating it, but tuna offered a great source of protein, and it would last a while. She could pick up some little packets of mayo from the diner in town.

He opened the jar of peanut butter and made a face.

“Oh—you need to stir it up. The oil separates.” She mixed it for him then scooped out a spoonful and offered it to him. The way his mouth worked reminded her of a dog eating peanut butter, lapping, lapping, lapping. She laughed.

He swallowed. “Sticky.”

“Jelly will help it slide down easier. Try the peanut butter on a cracker with jelly.”

She ate another tuna-topped saltine and watched as he prepared a cracker. He took a hesitant bite. Blue-blue eyes lit up with pleasure.

She grinned.

“This is good!”

“PB&J—the staple of children everywhere until allergies became a thing.” Shit, what if he’s allergic? She hadn’t given any consideration to food allergies. All food would be by-guess-and-by-golly with him. At least she had Benadryl in her pharmaceutical stash—assuming a human drug wouldn’t harm him.

But he’d be on his way soon, and his health and well-being wouldn’t be her problem. His impending departure depressed her more than it should. “Before you leave, we should go back to the cave. I can give you survival rations to take with you.” She knew which ones he could eat.

“I can’t carry much. I can’t use the pack I had.” He wrinkled his nose.

“I can give you a knapsack.”

“Okay, thank you, then.” He smeared more peanut butter and jelly on a cracker.

“You can take the peanut butter, too.”

“I would like that.”

She considered suggesting he stop at the diner in Big Creek and get some packets of jelly but doubted he’d know what to look for and probably couldn’t tell the diner from the bank. If he found a restaurant, he could end up with mayo, mustard, or rancid butter.

“Can you read my language?”

“No.”

“Take the jelly, too.” She hesitated to load him up with a bunch of heavy jars, but two wouldn’t be too bad. “How have you been getting food? How can you tell what’s safe for you to eat?”

“By scent, mostly. I can smell if it has meat in it.” He glanced at her empty tuna salad bowl and grimaced.

“Ready for dessert?” As she divided the canned peaches into two bowls, she heard the washing machine shut off. “The clothes are done. Can your pants go in the dryer?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You could end up with pants to fit a Ken doll.” She glanced at the battery-operated clock on the living room wall. She was shocked it was already after five o’clock. “Your pants won’t be dry for a while—and not tonight if we air-dry them. It will be dark in a few hours.” Outside the kitchen window, the shadows were long under the partially sunny sky. “Do you want to stay another night? You can get a bright-and-early start in the morning.”

“That depends.” Blue-blue eyes twinkled. “Are you going to chain me to the bed?”

Only if you like it that way.

She couldn’t believe the flirty retort that popped into her head. Bondage wasn’t her thing, and she could not, would not contemplate any sexual activity—even in jest—with a Progg, no matter how much she enjoyed his company or how attractive she found his physique. She scrubbed her eyelids to erase the image of him stepping out of the shower, water sparkling on his silvery skin. His magnificent—

“What would be the point? You’d only get loose.” She followed his quip with one of her own. It still blew her away that he’d found a means to free himself. Thank god he did.

“Then yes, I’d like to stay,” he said, and she let out a silent sigh of relief. I’m still jumpy. He’s protection. The reluctance to see him leave had nothing to do with enjoying his company and their fledging friendship.

“Let me take care of the clothes.” She took a breather by hanging his pants on a rod in the laundry room. Good grief, I’m doing my prisoner’s laundry. She shoved the rest of the stuff in the dryer, realizing she’d need to add fuel to the generator if they spent the night in the house.

Reentering the kitchen, she took her seat at the bar again. “Eat.” She motioned.

He dug into the peaches with an expression of bliss. She wondered what kind of food he’d been eating that made canned peaches such a treat. Maybe it was only the novelty of human food. Most everything she’d given him had met with his approval, except for the cardboard power bars, although he’d eaten them. Did anybody really like those?

“Will we spend the night here? Or go back to the cave?” he asked.

“Funny, I was thinking about that. The cave is hidden. The house is better defended,” she analyzed aloud. “With the doors locked, someone would have to break in, which would cause a racket, so we’d have warning. And there are multiple escape exits.”

The scumbag had just walked in—but that was her fault for leaving the garage door up.

“The cave has one way in and out, and we could be cornered. On the other hand, to my knowledge, nobody knows it exists. It’s not invisible, but it’s not eye-catching, either.” It wasn’t on topological maps. She’d checked when she’d first presented to her parents the idea of using it.

“The house is in plain sight. Anybody on the road can see it.” She felt like a fish in a fishbowl even with the blinds drawn. “Plus, if we keep the generator running—and that would be the primary reason for staying in the house—it can be seen and heard.”

In addition, the house had been desecrated. She’d almost been violated here. She felt the attacker’s presence like an evil aura. “We’ll spend the night in the cave,” she decided.