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“And I could have if he’d stayed within the compound.” Patrick didn’t blink at Garin’s aggressive tone. “But he left of his own accord two days ago.”
Garin recoiled, his brows pulling down and his face shuttering.
Sazahk saw the beginnings of panic behind Garin’s green eyes and found his own hand on Garin’s shoulder before he realized he’d left Bar’in to stand beside the human. He looked at Patrick and Fal’ran and squeezed Garin’s shoulder. “Did he say where he was going or give any indication of his likely destination?”
Patrick shook his head. “He said he’d detected evidence of a severe security breach in the Turner Corporation systems, and that he needed to contain the damage as quickly as possible.”
“By himself? In person?” Garin’s hand went to the gun at his hip. Sazahk interpreted it as a subconscious response to stress, but Fal’ran’s orange eyes tracked the motion and the big klah’eel shifted in front of Patrick. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I agree that it was odd.” Patrick gently pulled Fal’ran aside.
“He was acting weird as fuck when he said it, too,” Bar’in added, nose scrunching and full lips pursing. “And he smelled off, but I think he’d applied a little scent cream to block us from smelling too much.”
“Define ‘weird as fuck’ for me.” Garin didn’t shake off Sazahk’s hand. He even shifted his body closer, though his eyes fixed on Bar’in.
“Cagey, rushed, secretive.”
Garin frowned. “Why was that weird? That sounds like Dominic.”
Tar shook his head, but, as usual, Bar’in spoke. “Not when he’s with us.”
Patrick nodded when Garin glanced at him. “He’d become much more open and relaxed during his time here.”
Tar finally rumbled his own agreement. “He smelled afraid.”
Garin shuddered under Sazahk’s palm but breathed out a slow breath and spoke calmly. “Alright. I assume he took the ship we arrived in?”
Fal’ran nodded and crossed his arms. “That’s right. Said you could stay with us until he sent one back to pick you up.”
Garin’s eyes flashed. “He did what?”
Patrick raised a hand and gave Garin a half smile. “But I thought that might not work for you.” He jerked his thumb toward the sky port. “We’ve packed all your things and loaded them up onto a spare ship. You can leave immediately.”
Garin’s shoulders sagged in relief, but Sazahk’s heart plummeted into the dry, dead soil.
“Thank you.” Garin stepped out from under Sazahk’s limp grip and reached a hand out to Patrick. “I really appreciate that.”
“Not a problem.” Patrick shook Garin’s hand and nodded in the direction of the sky port. “Shall we?”
No!
Sazahk’s throat closed up.
Except, yes. Of course, yes. If Dom was in trouble, as Garin clearly thought he was, then Garin should leave immediately. But Sazahk hadn’t anticipated losing him so soon. He’d planned on at least a week. He’d planned on enough time for their hormones to cycle back into normal levels and for his own feelings to abate so that when the time came, the parting would be easy.
But this wasn’t easy!
“Yeah, just…” Garin turned back to Sazahk and trailed off, his eyes flicking across every scrap of Sazahk’s bare skin.
Goddess, he must be a mess. Sazahk willed the colors away and forced a controlled shade of pale red into his cheeks, a fearful, but not panicked color, appropriate for receiving concerning news about a friend.
“Um, you’re safe now, so…” Garin swallowed.
“So, you can leave,” Sazahk finished for him in the calmest and least brittle voice he could manage. He battled his colors down under his collar and out of Garin’s sight. “You should leave, really. You should find Dom.”
That was what mattered. That was real. More real than these feelings they had.
“Yeah, I…” Garin nodded a few times and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say it was a pleasure working with you and that I’m, um, glad we had this time together.”
