“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’.”