Claimed by the Alien Warlord: A Science Fiction Alien Mail-Order Bride Romance (TerraMates Book 14)

by Lisa Lace

  The commute to work, an early morning meeting, and the first few appointments for the day dragged by interminably. Natasha wanted to go home and check on Fury. She felt compelled to make sure he hadn’t burned down the house or gone hungry. Natasha had already taken several days off. The administrators would put her on probation if she turned around and asked for vacation days on top of her bereavement leave. Her only choice was to muddle through her day and wait. She kept checking her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a call.

  While she was staring off into space in the lunch room, imagining Fury ripping all of her kitchen cabinets off the walls, the clunk of a full soda can landing on the table next to her brought her back to reality. Blinking, Natasha realized that John had come to sit next to her.

  “Oh, hey,” she said weakly. Someone who had helped her out so much deserved a warmer greeting, but she was too tired to give it.

  “How are things going?” It was a simple question, but it was loaded with more than an eavesdropper might guess.

  “Quite well, actually.” The nurse smiled for the first time since she had arrived at work. “You’d be surprised.”

  John nodded and began pulling his lunch out of a small cooler. “Good. Listen, I’m sorry to bother you here. I know you probably don’t want to be seen with me.”

  “Don’t say that, John. It’s not true.”

  He shrugged. “I know that rumors are going around. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I just wanted to make sure you were okay after that go-round with your husband a few nights ago. He’s a real piece of work.”

  Natasha realized she had been an ass. John had stood up for her and even taken a punch. She had barely spoken to him since then. Rehabilitating a cyborg in her spare time was taking a lot out of her. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t come here for apologies,” the tech insisted. “You know that I’m here for you, right? If that means being a person to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, as friends, I’m glad to do it. If you ever decide I’m worth something more, I’m ready for that, too. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

  John certainly knew how to make her feel bad. “I’m not in a place for that right now. You’re a wonderful guy, but I just don’t think it’s going to work.”

  Surprisingly, he smiled at her. “That’s okay. I would still love to take you out for a drink tonight. No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

  Natasha laughed. It was only a small laugh, but it was huge compared to how she was feeling that day. He was right. She needed a drink. “Yes, I think I could. Why don’t you come to my place tonight? I have something I’d like to show you.” It probably sounded like an innuendo to anyone else in the break room, but she didn’t care what other people thought.

  “I’d love to.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Knowing that John was coming over to share in the victory put Natasha in a distinctly better mood. Even if Fury had had a rough day while she was gone, it was still a huge step toward bringing him back to humanity. The process was similar to assisting a person who had gone through a traumatic accident and had to learn to live again...and had their emotions and memories removed, replaced with a biochip.

  She rushed home as soon as her last patient left the exam room. She didn’t bother to say anything to the other employees in her department. Natasha was in her car and on the freeway before most of the other workers left the building.

  Natasha shoved her key in the lock eagerly but opened the door slowly. She didn’t want to scare Fury if he was in the living room. A quick peek showed that she didn’t have to worry. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The remote control looked tiny in his hands. The overhead lights were off, but the glow of the screen illuminated his face.

  Fury slowly realized Natasha was standing next to him. “Look. I know this.”

  She wanted to jump up and down and scream for joy. The cyborg didn’t realize that he was experiencing a great victory by calmly remembering the past.

  He glanced at her briefly before turning back to the television. It was an old sitcom about a blended family. Fury didn’t laugh at the funny parts. He continued to watch with concentration.

  Natasha remembered watching the show as a child, but she couldn’t imagine what it meant for Fury to have it in his life now. His biochip had completely blocked everything from his human life, and though the update allowed him access to old memories, they were mostly a jumbled mess. This show was something that represented a forgotten part of him.

  “Did you watch this as a child?” she whispered, not wanting to interrupt but intensely curious. What was Fury thinking?

  “Yes, all the time.” The cyborg’s body bobbed up and down as he nodded. “With my family.”

  The word echoed in the living room and her heart. Fury used to have a family somewhere. Maybe he still did. Where were they? Did they know that he was still alive, or had they accepted that he was dead to them when he donated his body to Cyborg Sector? Was there a wife out there looking for him, who would be enraged to find out about Natasha?

  Natasha didn’t ask any of those questions. What she asked was, “Did you get enough to eat?”

  He nodded again without breaking the trance the television held over him. “A sandwich and fish sticks. I remember tartar sauce.”

  “You weren’t supposed to open the freezer.” Natasha rushed into the kitchen, expecting to see a disaster area. She hadn’t thought he would take initiative and open every compartment in the refrigerator. She found a baking pan on top of the stove, covered in tiny brown crumbs from the frozen fish sticks. Fury had even turned off the oven and returned the bottle of tartar sauce.

  “How did you do that?” Natasha demanded as she came back into the living room. “You barely knew how to use a fork in the morning!”

  Fury’s mouth raised in the corner, a look that was becoming familiar to her by now. “Directions on the...” He wildly gestured as he tried to come up with the right word. “My head hurts.”

  Mildly relieved but still shocked, Natasha retrieved some ibuprofen from the bathroom. “Swallow these. We have company coming over. Do you remember John? He’s been down in the laboratory with us before.”

  The cyborg nodded and swallowed the pills, making a face as he swallowed.

  A knock came from the door, and Natasha let John in. “Check this out,” she said eagerly. “He’s been out of the basement all day. Fury’s been watching TV, and he even made some fish sticks! I’ve only been home a few minutes myself, so I don’t know what else he’s done, but isn’t it exciting?” She knew she was gushing, but she couldn’t help it.

  John stood in the living room watching Fury, who glanced at the newcomer for a moment before returning to his show. “That was fast. I’ve heard that it can take weeks for them to start acting like this. A lot of them spend some time going a little nutty.”

  Natasha explained that she had been forced to drug the cyborg when he started tearing apart the basement. Once Fury was under control, she had him convert the laboratory into makeshift sleeping quarters. There were bedrooms upstairs, but she hadn’t wanted to make the transition too quickly. “After the way he’s been today, I think it’s safe to say that he’s about ready to sleep up here.”

  John rubbed his chin, where stubble was starting to come in. “How about we step into the kitchen and get that drink?” He shared his private thoughts when a celebratory shot of whiskey was in his hands, and he was out of Fury’s hearing. “I’m not sure about your idea. I know this is what you thought you wanted to happen. But even if we think a cyborg killing machine won’t kill anymore, will we be able to convince anyone? You can’t turn him out into society. He has no paperwork that he can use to live.”

  Natasha was too excited to let any worries bring her down. “We can deal with that when we get there.”

  “But how long will that be?” John pressed. “What happens when he’s no longer content to
eat fish sticks and watch TV? If he’s doing that on the first day he’s been allowed to be on his own, what will happen tomorrow or the next day?”

  Peeking into the living room at the project, Natasha smiled as she thought about the things Fury still needed to understand. It would take weeks at the least, but possibly months or a year. “Everything will work out fine,” she insisted.

  CHAPTER 19

  A few weeks before, Natasha would have thought it impossible to fall into a nightly routine with a cyborg, but apparently anything could happen. Their dinners usually consisted of something frozen that could be heated up in the oven. The convenience helped alleviate Natasha’s exhaustion from working as well as Fury’s strange desire to cook. Although he couldn’t exactly make gourmet cuisine, he enjoyed putting food on the table for her. Other than fish sticks, he had now made frozen pizza, a small lasagna, and Chinese dishes in little boxes that looked like takeout. He had even begun enhancing the foods before putting them in the oven, taking steps like adding extra cheese to a pizza or a dash of sauce to a rice dish.

  Natasha wondered if he had often cooked in his previous life. Perhaps he felt he was paying her back for the meals she had brought to him, or maybe he got a sense of accomplishment. Either way, she didn’t want to ask and ruin it. It was nice to have hot food waiting when she kicked off her sneakers and collapsed into a dining chair.

  After they ate and threw their plates in the dishwasher (a small task that Natasha was glad to take on since he always did the cooking), they moved to the living room and relaxed. Natasha had never cared much for television, so she usually settled in on the loveseat with a good book or played on her phone. She propped her feet up on the opposite arm of the small couch and ignored the crime shows Fury had been hooked on. She didn’t care to add any more drama to her life, especially when it dealt with husbands who murdered their wives or other television episodes that felt far too familiar to her.

  When Fury first discovered the shows, he watched them from the couch. After a few episodes, he couldn’t sit through them. Mostly, Fury stood up for the duration of the show. When standing was unsatisfactory, he began to pace back and forth.

  This night was a pacing night, and it was starting to worry Natasha. He stared at the screen like he could burn a hole through it with eyes, and he pressed his hand against his lips. “Is everything ok?” she asked, putting her phone away for the moment.

  “No,” he answered quickly. “I need to get out.” The television had been prompting his memories of speaking, and his sentences were complete without any effort at all. In rare instances, he took a moment to think about the right word or phrase. When Fury had a delay, Natasha had to force herself to not help him. He was doing well on his own, and if she started feeding him words, it would inhibit his development.

  Natasha sighed and picked up her phone again. They had talked about leaving the house, and she didn’t think it was a good idea. He had grown angry with her about the topic, and his rage could make him swell up and look larger than usual. She shook inside when she saw his anger, but she refused to budge from her position. It wasn’t worth arguing about again. “You know that can’t happen,” she casually said as she added a new yoga mat to her shopping cart.

  “I can’t stay here. Everything’s the same. I need to see something new.”

  Natasha hadn’t heard that type of urgency in his voice before, and it made her look up. She could see veins standing out under the skin of his neck as though he were about to burst. “Where do you think you’re going to go?” Natasha didn’t want him to leave, not after everything they had been through together.

  Fury crossed the room and put his eye against the split in the curtain panels, staring down the driveway and wondering where it led. “Wherever I need to be.”

  “I know it’s frustrating, but what choice do we have? What if one of the former employees from the Cyborg Sector recognizes you? Some of those scientists get to know their projects a little too well. You’d be dead before I went to bed.” Perhaps John had been right when he predicted there would be more difficulty as Fury’s memories returned. She hadn’t thought the cyborg would move along so quickly, but he was beginning to feel more like a roommate than a science experiment.

  The soldier flexed his muscles. He had kept himself occupied during the day with rigorous workouts and practicing exercises prescribed by Natasha. But he was already fit as hell and capable of doing almost anything he would need to do to be able to live on his own. Natasha wasn’t surprised he was bored and restless.

  “It doesn’t matter. I need to do something. It’s too much to make me look at the same walls every day. Do you think you can stop me, Natasha?” Her name sounded less awkward on his lips than before. She enjoyed hearing Fury say her name even when he wasn’t pleased with her.

  Natasha prepared to grab a tranquilizer so she could immobilize Fury, if necessary. It didn’t seem fair to use the syringe on him; but he was right, she couldn’t possibly overpower him if he decided to leave.

  A knock on the door stopped both of their plans. “Go into the kitchen,” Natasha whispered. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  A peek through the curtains revealed Nick on her porch again. He swatted at the bugs gathering around the porch light, and he staggered slightly on the concrete. Natasha opened the door with a sigh. “What do you want?” She had no energy left for polite greetings.

  “That’s no way to say hello to the love of your life,” he responded with a lopsided grin. The stench of old whiskey washed over her as he spoke. “How are you doing, beautiful?”

  “I was doing pretty well until your sorry ass showed up. Go home, Nick.” The nurse kept her body in the doorway to block his entry.

  “I can’t. You have to listen to me. I need you, Natasha. You mean the world to me. I messed up.” Tears glistened in his eyes as he pleaded. A moth landed in his hair, but he didn’t notice.

  “I don’t have time for this. I’m tired.” She started to shut the door.

  He reached out and grabbed the door handle, stopping her with an unexpected amount of force considering his inebriation. “You do have time, and you have to listen to me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I threw it away because I thought I needed more. But nobody could be worth more to me than you.”

  Natasha felt sorry for the miserable wretch, but she had a feeling there was more to the story than he was sharing. “Sharla left you, didn’t she?” No doubt the skinny blonde bitch had gotten enough free drinks out of him and had moved on to something better.

  “Of course not,” he insisted. “I left her. I told her I couldn’t see her anymore. You’re my wife, and I need you.”

  “Can we talk about this in the morning?” Natasha asked, mentally adding, when you aren’t drunk anymore. Her eyes felt tired, and she had enough things to handle without Nick adding to them.

  “No, I need to see you right now.” Her husband didn’t seem to be able to stay still. He moved restlessly, losing his balance before he barely regained it.

  “There’s nothing more to say, Nick.”

  The cyborg’s voice came booming out of the house. “She told you to leave.”

  The voice behind her made Natasha freeze on the spot. She had never been good at hiding her emotions. Anyone could read her feelings just by looking at her face. She couldn’t stop her eyes from widening or shoulders from stiffening. The nurse could feel the presence of the cyborg behind her, and Nick couldn’t help but see him.

  “Who the fuck is this, Natasha?” He said her name like he was spitting. Nick’s attitude had completely changed in the fraction of a second it took him to notice the man standing behind his wife. “I come over here to apologize, and you’ve got another man at your house? I never realized you were such a whore.”

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Fury boomed. He picked Natasha up by the waist, swung her around, and planted her on the floor behind him. The cyborg filled the doorway as he confronted Natasha�
��s husband face-to-face.

  “I’ll talk to her any way that I want to, asshole.” Nick’s alcohol level didn’t let him see what a formidable opponent the cyborg was. “She’s my wife, and I can do whatever the fuck I want to with her.”

  Even though Nick’s words infuriated her, Natasha didn’t want him to die. She leaped up to grab Fury’s arm as he pulled it back to strike a blow. She didn’t need blood on her front steps or anyone to call the cops when the cyborg knocked her husband’s arrogant head off. Natasha knew he could do it easily. “Stop!”

  Fury didn’t punch Nick, but kept his arm cocked. “Is he going?” The question sounded like a threat.

  Nick leaned over in an attempt to look around the bulky man and speak to his wife. “Who is this clown? Are you into bodybuilding cave men these days? Last week I thought your type was computer nerds. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

  A metallic taste of nausea filled Natasha’s mouth. There was no reasonable explanation for the man currently sharing her house. “He’s a handyman, sent over from the Cyborg Rehabilitation Center. It’s a work release program.” The lie came quickly to her tongue and was close enough to the truth. The CRC organized paid internships for cyborgs who had progressed enough to enter the real world and practice for the job market.

  “At ten o’clock at night? What the hell kind of handyman has any work to do that late? You’re fucking him, just like you fuck whoever you can get your hands on. Hell, you’ve probably been doing this behind my back all along. Do you want to talk about all the things I did wrong? You need to take a look in the mirror, bitch.”

  Natasha tried to hide behind the soldier. Nick was right, unfortunately. Not about her cheating - she had always been faithful. But Natasha had been an idiot to lie. Should she have come up with a plausible cover story in case anyone came snooping around? Why hadn’t she ignored the accusations like she did when John was there?

  In her heart, she knew the reason. Natasha wasn’t sleeping with John, but she had slept with the cyborg. There was more to hide, and she felt like there was far more at stake.