“Let me go,” she snarled, spittle
dribbling down her chin.
“Not until you calm down.”
She started to settle, just for a
moment, when her eyes flicked at something behind him. She redoubled her efforts, screaming, “Stop,
you’re hurting me!”
“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!”
Leo’s hands
sprang open, and he jerked away from Geraldine, whirling to confront the three
men behind him. They stood just inside
the doorway, hands clenching into fists as shock gave way to anger. Geraldine ran past him to hide behind them,
her smaller body disappearing behind the farmhand bulk of Zach, Willie, and
Tom. Leo couldn’t recall their last
names.
Nevermind their names.
You’re in a world of trouble.
“I don’t know what happens on the
reservation you came from, but you don’t put your hands on women in the real
world,” Willie growled. His sunbleached
eyebrows beetled across a sunburned brow.
He and the other two advanced on Leo.
Leo searched for something to say,
but nothing helpful came to mind. Given
the size difference between himself and Geraldine, claiming self defense
sounded laughable. Fuck.
“Let’s see how he likes it, and then
we’ll toss what’s left out for the aliens.”
Tom offered a not-nice smile. He
pounded a fist into his palm for emphasis.
Leo’s stomach executed a slow
somersault. ‘Out’ was a death
sentence. The aliens might not find you
for months, hell, years, but eventually they found you. Leo caught a glimpse of Geraldine behind the
men. Her smile was one of cold
satisfaction.
“Hold on, boys.” The smoky voice of Blythe Butler, former
movie star, stopped everyone in their tracks.
The striking redhead, an elegant beauty to rival any starlet of the
Golden Age of Hollywood, glided with practiced grace into the room from the
adjoining kitchen. “To cop an old
saying, ‘this isn’t what it looks like’.”
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