Free Blighted Star by Tom Parkinson Page A

off her and stood at the side of the bed.
    “Don’t
be silly, come back to bed…” she regarded him through those long lashes, hand
outstretched, beckoning impatiently. Her hair was pulled into a severe looking
bun and pinned to the top of her head, and now it nodded back and forth as she
gestured. He felt an overwhelming urge to grip that hair in his hand, feeling
its strands crushed against his palm, and to shake it until the truth came out
of her, until the hair tore in his fingers.
    A
weird feeling was sweeping over him. He had suspected her so many times that
now that he had  proof positive he couldn’t quite believe that he had
heard correctly. He felt that he must hold onto his belief and not let her
steal it away as he knew she would try to. He fixed his eyes on hers, feeling
them going dry, fighting back an incipient twitch, she would see that, she
would know it for a sign of weakness.
    “Stop
it Christel. Stop the lying. You’ve just blown it.”
    Christel’s
hand stopped circling in the air between them. “Blown what? You’re being
stupid.”
    “Christel,
I heard you. You called me “Grad”. . Stop lying to me.” he felt
his face reddening, Even he had heard a slight note of doubt in his voice.
    “Now,
Hugo, I don’t know what you think you heard but I did not say ‘Grad’ or
anything else. I may have grunted. Just a little. It’s unladylike I know, but
there you are. Now come back to bed at once and finish what you began.” the
hand was there again, jerking imperiously. For a moment he was paralysed with
indecision. Even his cock seemed undecided. It jumped once, then continued to
deflate, shrivelling to nothing.  Someone passed down the corridor beyond
their door, feet clinking a little on the metal surface. The footsteps sounded
like those of a child. Jackson’s next words came out as a hissed whisper.
    “No
Christel. Fuck you, you’ve blown it because you are a liar and you can’t
help yourself. Well fuck you, I’ve had it. Get out! There are some free
quarters at the other side of the ship, I suggest you go and set up in there.”
he put his hands on his hips, felt slightly ridiculous in that pose and took
them off, folding them across his chest. Christel glared at him.
    “You’re
mad. I’ve done nothing. Nothing. It’s you who’s blown it. You. Don’t come
crawling to me when you come to your senses.” Now she was out of bed and
scrambling into her clothes. “How dare you accuse me of anything! I’ve been so
good to you, far better than you deserve you little prick. I made you look
good. Now everyone will see what a sad little shit you really are.” She had
finished pulling on her long boots and stood up face burning with hatred. “And
if I had fucked Grad, I bet he would have been a million times better than
you.”
    The
door slammed and he was on his own. He tried to assess how he felt, tried to
run a damage report. He’d been right, hadn’t he? He hadn’t misheard? Her
reaction had been that of a cornered animal surely, all that venom spitting.
Even if he had been wrong her reaction showed their relationship for
what it had been; if he so much as stepped out of line she whirled round on
him, all piss and vinegar. Good riddance. Anyway, he was pretty sure he’d heard
right in the first place. He felt strangely lightheaded, as if some part of his
mind had suddenly been taken away. He got a glimpse, just a foretaste, of the
loneliness that was to come.
    He
wondered where she would go, then forced back the thought, reaching for his uniform.
She would probably go to him . Well, good luck to her there, he’d already got a woman, one much better than Christel. He would like to be a fly
on the wall when that conversation took place - Grad would soon tell her to
fuck off. She’d see then what it felt like to have someone grind you down. She
couldn’t take that, no way. It would destroy her. She was far too used to
getting her own way in everything, but there was no way