CHAPTER12

CHAPTER 12

She still slept with one of his dirty shirts. It smelled of him, his sweat, his strength, his own personal aroma. The scent triggered the dreams she had of him at night. Welcome dreams. At least there she could touch him, taste him, love him.
In the seven months since Zarifa Cholena had last seen Richard Riddick his hold on her heart had not lessened at all. It had grown stronger in fact. This despite the fact that she had had no contact with him whatsoever.
She knew he was still on the station.
She caught glimpses of him watching her. She’d be working or on everyday errands when the hair on the back of her neck would rise. That’s when she knew he was around.
The first few times she tried to run him to ground, but he always slipped away.
She stopped chasing him then, and just settled for looking at him, saving the memory of him to help her get through the long and lonely nights. So badly she wanted to ask him why he never came home. Why he had rejected her and Jack and the new life they could give him.
She still kept a piece of hope in her heart that he would step through her door one day. That’s why she never changed the authorization on the apartments voice activated lock.
But as far as she could tell, he’d only been home once. To retrieve some of his clothing and other personal items. That had been two months after the attack and she still remembered walking through the door and smelling his scent. She had raced through the apartment with joy. Sure that he had conquered whatever demons that kept him away. But she had felt the desolation of disappointment when she found the place empty of Riddick.
She knew then that he wouldn’t be coming back. Ever.
Awaking in a hospital bed a day after the attack by Elson Brenner, the first words out of her mouth had been inquiries about Riddick.
Jack had kept a bedside vigil and was there when she came to. But she couldn’t give Zar any answers other than to say that he was alive. He hadn’t been by to see her or Zar. Which mightily confused Jack because of how she’d found him with Zar.
She explained that he seemed almost broken apart holding, what he thought was a dead Zar’s head in his lap. His joy, the first Jack had ever seen from him, at the realization that Zar was still alive. Jack thought for sure that Riddick would’ve been glued to Zar’s bedside. There’d been no answer at the apartment when she tried to call him. Yeah, it might’ve taken him a few hours to clean – up so as not to attract undo attention, but she didn’t think anything could’ve kept him away from making sure Zar was okay.
Zar had tried to reassure Jack that Riddick must’ve thought it safer to wait for them at home. But she knew from the dread that was fast spreading through her that something was wrong. The ultra sensitive connection she had with Riddick was being overwhelmed with a fast approaching panic. Panic at the truth that something was irrevocably broken.
She had held her breath as three days later Jack helped her through the door of the apartment. An empty apartment.
Jack nervously stalked all the rooms, all the time mumbling something about he’d be home by night.
But he wasn’t.
And Zar had to handle her own tears as well as Jacks.
The poor thing had gone from extreme grief to terror of being abandoned to finally anger. All within a space of a few days.
Zar had only been able to help with the abandonment issue. Reassuring her that Jack would always be welcome to stay. In fact she needed Jack to stay. She didn’t think she could take losing the both of them.
Jack had tearfully hugged her, careful of her still sore body.
A new bond had been forged between the experienced woman and the woman-child.
They became the sisters in spirit that neither had had in blood.
They helped each cope with a life without Riddick.
Zar had turned her emotions inward. After all she’d been through tragedy and loss before.
Jack had acted out her anger and grief by being a royal pain in the ass at school. Zar had been called down to the administrators office six times in one month. The offenses had ranged from being disrespectful to the teacher (no...not Jack!), to starting food fights, to not doing assignments to finally skipping classes altogether.
Zar had sat Jack down and gave her a strong talking to. But the whole time she was lambasting her, she kept cursing Riddick in the back of her mind. For not being there when Jack so needed him and for being the reason that Jack was acting out.
It scared her when she found out Jack was out exploring the station while Zar was at work. The kid had a horrible track record of being on her own. She had been lucky to find Riddick and Imam, and later Zar, when the chips were down before. But Zar didn’t know how long that luck would last.
But she knew what the girl was doing. Or at least she thought she did. She went looking for Riddick. Not that she blamed her. Zar was tempted to do the same thing.
But once she accepted the fact that Riddick was gone, she swore to herself that she’d be damned if went begging after him like some puppy. She sure as hell didn’t want any man who didn’t want her.
But that didn’t stop her from running her eyes over him greedily whenever he made his sneaky visit’s. In her quieter moments she even knew that she’d take him back, no questions asked.
It felt like she’d been living on half–air for the last seven months. Never really taking a full breath. Afraid to for fear of the tears starting again.
She thought she’d convinced Jack to stop the useless questing for Riddick, if for no other reason than to reinstate Zar’s peace of mind.
But she had the sensation that Jack had agreed to her face, and just got smarter about the prowling around. She knew she had to let her find her own course. The only other option open to her would’ve been tying her up. And that was impractical as well as a guarantee of automatic failure.
Zar almost hoped Jack found Riddick. Found and confronted him about his quittance of them. Maybe when he rejected her to her face she would accept it for the permanent state of life he obviously wanted it to be. It would kill whatever dreams that still kept Jack loving Riddick, but it would make her move on in her life. Maybe even allow her to think of something other that Riddick.
The one thing that totally confused Zar were Riddick’s continued surreptitious visits.
What was he doing? Why was he watching her?
Riddick himself couldn’t have answered the questions.
He just knew the urge to see her would become so overwhelming that he found his legs moving toward her work area or apartment of their own volition.
He also slept with a piece of Zar’s clothing. A bra he’d taken (stolen) when he’d gone back for his things. It bore the marks of her sweat and perfume and so many memories that he would find hours had passed as he sat holding the bra to his nose.
He knew he was a giant coward for leaving without telling them.
But he also knew that leaving the best thing for them. And he wouldn’t have been able to do it with them there. There wasn’t that much spiritual strength in the world.
He knew as he had made his way out of that alley that held the bodies of the dead Brenner, the seriously wounded Zar and the scared Jack, that Zar had been right. Killing Brenner had brought all of the killing instincts back out in him. A condition he was beginning to accept as his natural state.
He didn’t know how safe it would be to be around people he cared about. He suspected that if the situation was do or die, he would sacrifice them to save his own skin. Before coming to Polaris he wouldn’t have worried about it. If Riddick had to kill someone, even someone he liked, to save his hide, then that was just the rule of the jungle. It wouldn’t have even have merited a second thought.
But now it mattered. It mattered a lot. For better or worse, it mattered more than his own happiness.
Maybe that was why he still kept an eye on Zar and Jack. He still wanted to protect them, even if it was only from himself.
It was just past six in the morning and the lights were just beginning to lighten the room.
He rested his weight on his palms as he leaned them on the dresser-mirror combo in his room. Actually it was Elson Brenner’s room. He’d just taken it over. It was in the seediest part of Polaris Station and he figured, rightly, that the landlord wouldn’t care who occupied it, as long as the rent kept coming.
He hadn’t originally planned on taking over Brenner’s digs. He’d gone just to go through his stuff to make sure there were no messages or contingencies if Brenner didn’t make it back to his bosses.
But sitting on the bed, rifling through the pathetic mess that was Brenner’s life, he had come to the realization that he himself could not go home. Ever.
Since the killer was loose in him again, he might as well take over the living space of a killer. It served a more deeper purpose than just practicality. Every time he came back to the one room, squalid piece of shit that he called home, he remembered why he couldn’t go back to Zar and Jack. It kept the wound fresh. Better he bleed than them.
But looking at himself in the mirror, goggles off, bare chest a pale slab in the dim light, milky eyes balefully staring back, he let himself wonder what his life would be like if he had stayed with Zar.
He could almost feel her in their bed, spread out and tangled in the covers. Smelling of her own personal woman’s scent. Soft skin and comforting plumpness wrapping around his own hardened body and long limbs in sleep. Putting her faith in him to keep the demons of sleep from her vulnerable heart.
A soft smile spread across his face as he let the fantasy rule the moment. But it was ruined quickly by the sound of snores coming from his own bed. The whore he had picked up the previous night was going at it like she’d never slept before.
He wanted to kill her for ruining the fantasy. But he restrained himself...barely.
It didn’t mean he had to put up with her presence any more than he had. He hadn’t even meant to let her sleep there with him. But she looked vaguely like Zar, and he’d been exhausted from working a double at the Paradise. In the end, he just hadn’t been able to kick her out.
This morning he wished he had. She was too glaring a reminder at what he had lost, what he would never have again.
Putting on his goggles as he walked over to the side of the bed, he bent down and roughly shook her awake.
“Come on! You gotta get out of here. It’s morning.”
The whore, he thought her name was Lossa, stirred slowly.
“Mmmm...come on love, let me sleep a little longer.”
“No! Get up and get out! NOW!”
Raising his voice didn’t seem to have any effect on her.
Fuck it! He wasn’t in the mood to play nice.
Grabbing her arm he hauled her out of the bed.
“Hey! What’s the fucking idea?!”
“You’re leaving, that’s what the fucking idea is! Get dressed and be outta here by the time I get out of the bathroom.”
He hadn’t raised his voice this time. Just said in his deep, menacing prison voice that always let whoever he was talking too know that now was not the time to fuck with him.
The message got through to Lossa. She knew when to let it go. She wouldn’t have been able to survive this long otherwise. Disappointment still found it’s way through her mind. She worked with Riddick, whom she knew as Richard Carolyn, in the Paradise. He was a bouncer, she a barmaid that made extra money on the side with prostitution.
She’d been eyeing him for the last four months. She had always been attracted to the rough and dangerous type. Probably why she was in the life she was in.
She’d ignored all the warnings the other girls at the bar had given her. That Riddick was a loose cannon, a death-wisher. That he a nasty habit of settling bar room brawls with a shiv and some fancy cutting. All the while never breaking a sweat, a smile or a sneer. She’d thrown her best lines his way, and up until last night, he’d never even given her a “hello.”
Then suddenly, as the bar was closing, he came up behind her, threw some credits on the bar in front of her and told her to “let’s go.”
He hadn’t even waited to see if she followed him as he turned to leave the bar. It had kind of irritated her, but not so much that she was going to turn him down.
Once they made it to his rooms, she didn’t know what to expect. She figured they would maybe have a few drinks, then get cozy in bed.
Instead, as soon as the door had closed, he told her to strip and get into bed. He was already in the process of taking off his own clothes and hadn’t even bothered to put on the light.
“Can we have some light please?! I can’t see my ass from a whole in the ground.”
“Whatever.” He hadn’t seemed to interested in making this a long experience. But he did call out “Low lights.”
Jeeesh! What a romantic!
As she continued with undressing, slow and sexy like she thought, she saw him pull the top sheet to the bottom of the bed. He hadn’t taken the goggles off. For some reason, that had bothered her more than any of the other callous actions he had so far committed. She might be a whore, but she also deserved to be treated like a human being.
“Take the goggles off. I like to see who’s screwing me.”
His back still to her as he fixed the sheets, he only slightly turned his head in her direction. His outline was sexy but scary at the same time.
She knew she had pissed him off, but she couldn’t decide whether to be more scared or more aroused as she gazed at his naked back.
He had long legs and broad shoulders, both well muscled. Just like his back. And his skin was smooth, even his rounded, tight ass. Well it was smooth in the places not marred by white scars. It looked like Riddick was as good at receiving wounds as he was at giving them. The one on his left shoulder looked new, less than a year old from her guess. She gained a little more respect for a man who could survive such wounds. The fear gained over the arousal just a bit.
“Fine, then get out. And leave the credits.”
She hadn’t expected that! Let him keep his fucking goggles if they were that important. She just wanted to get it over with at this point.
“Okay! Okay! Never mind then. Whatever you want love.”
“I’m not your love. Just get into bed.”
Lossa had quickly shed the remainder of her clothing and did as he asked.
She wasn’t sure what to expect from that point on. She hoped he wasn’t into S&M. That just wasn’t her thing. Plain old screwing was all she ever got into.
She realized quick enough that she needn’t have worried. Riddick knelt between her thighs, spreading them and placing himself at her entrance.
He knew it wouldn’t take long. There had only been one other time after Zar. When the need had been too great and the offer too easy to take. But it had left a bad taste in his mouth. Zar was still too much in his mind. That had been three months ago.
Since then he’d been satisfied with do it yourselfers, usually after waking up from a dream about him and Zar making love. But that night he’d been strung too tight, and he knew what he needed. A quick fuck, no talking or any other niceties. So he figured Lossa would be the one to get it from. He knew she tricked on the side, and had the hots for him. And she looked a little like Zar with her plumpish figure and the same shade of blue eyes.
The coupling was rough and brutal. Just the way Lossa liked it. He pounded into her time after time. Too involved in attaining his own pleasure for the first moans to penetrated his thoughts.
When they finally did, he immediately stopped. He figured some of Zar’s Richard was still in there somewhere, because he found he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of hurting Lossa.
“NO! Don’t stop...for fuck sake don’t stop!”
Well so much for being considerate. Seemed Lossa gal liked hard and rough just fine. He’d be happy to oblige her. Not that he cared whether she got off or not, but if she came along with him, good for her.
He redoubled his thrusting. Even reaching down and grabbing her legs to rest on his shoulders. His dick going even deeper into her soaked womanhood. When he first came to live with Zar he had fantasized about doing her this way. But when they finally had become lovers, he been afraid of being too rough with her. Maybe even disgusting her.
There were no such qualms with Lossa.
In fact, if she wasn’t acting, trying to get a better tip, he would swear she was going to break the bed. Her nails dug into his back while she growled and moaned her pleasure. Soon she was screaming as her climax overtook her, arching her neck back, slamming her pelvis against his.
Riddick followed her seconds later. Though his crisis was less spectacular. He just felt a few lashes of pleasure and a large amount of relief. And an overwhelming exhaustion. So strong he barely made it out of Lossa and onto the bed next to her before falling asleep.
This morning he wished he had stayed awake a little longer. At least long enough to have made Lossa get out. He just didn’t have it in him this morning to deal with her or the whining.
As he made his way into the bathroom, feeling her eyes on his naked back, he hoped she’d be wise enough to take his warning. Because Zar look alike or not, her ass would be forcibly removed if it still occupied his rooms.
Unfortunately, Lossa wasn’t that smart. Because a half hour later he saw her sitting fully dressed on the made bed.
Stopping stock still, hoping to get a handle of his fast rising anger, he stared at her through the goggles.
She just sat there smiling at him. Blithely unaware of how close she was to pushing him beyond his normal code of not hitting women. Not unless it served his purpose. Hitting Lossa out of anger did not serve a purpose, though he guessed it would reinforce his self-loathing. Something he needed to do to keep himself from going back to Zar and Jack.
“What part of ‘Get Out’ didn’t you get?”
“Ah come on love, take me out to breakfast. I was good to you last night wasn’t I? I can’t help it if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed can I?”
Lossa was obviously hoping to turn a one night bang into a long term affair, or at least an understanding.
Riddick couldn’t help it. A derisive laugh boomed from his chest.
Lossa stopped smiling at that laugh. She knew what it meant. Time to cut her losses and get out.
“Fine! Just don’t think I’ll let you have a piece of my tail ever again. Ungrateful bastard.”
He watched as she huffily gathered her purse and keys and made for the front door.
Figuring he had finally got rid of her he turned toward the small kitchenette.
“Oh so that’s how it is huh? Go for the little girls do ya? Save the rough stuff for the women who can handle it and save the sick stuff for the teeny boppers. Ungrateful, sick, bastard! I’m outta here! You should be too honey! Something’s just not right with him!”
Now what the hell was she blabbering about?
Turning around with every intention of physically forcing her out of the room, he stopped dead at the sight that met him.
Lossa was gone. But in her place stood someone else.
She slowly moved into the room, the door automatically closing behind her.
Her face showed her emotions completely. Fear, anger, pain and uncertainty mixed with a little joy at seeing his beloved face once again.
She looked thinner, paler. And he wondered if Zar fared the same.
He didn’t have the faintest idea of where to start. Her being here was not a good idea. For either of them. It just dredged up bad memories, and lost hopes.
“Jack, you need to leave. Right now!”
“I will in a minute Riddick. Just answer one thing for me. What did Zar and me do that was so bad you had to leave us like that?”