A Dangerous Connection – Chapter 4

Another new day, another strange place to wake up.

Also, another day in the same place with a man who didn’t take advantage of me.

Tiago appears to be a keeper.

I blink into the golden sunlight streaming through the crack in the curtains. The love hotel room is small but clean, with just enough space for a bed, a tiny bathroom, and a chair crammed in the corner. But, unfortunately, the bright pink and red decor is garish in the morning. Not at all sexy.

I sit up on the edge of the bed and check on the alien creature. Her breathing seems less labored now, her eyes brighter as she gazes up at me. I smile down at her as I stroke her head and feel her relief through my fingertips, up my arms, and into my chest.

The medicine and rest helped overnight.

I have nothing new or clean to change into, but a shower sounds like a great idea. The bathroom is sparkling with big fluffy towels, so I might as well take advantage of it. The hot shower is a blessing after being on the run the previous day. As I look down at my naked body, I kind of wish I hadn’t denied Tiago last night. We obviously have a strong, almost dangerous connection. It reminds me of when I met Adrian for the first time. We clicked immediately, and he joined my network after only two weeks together.

I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the tile wall of the shower. How would Tiago fit in with my network, the one I ran away from? Is that something I should even think about? Too late. I can see him laughing with Raif, going to football games with Adrian, having a drink with Yoseph. He would like them. They would like him.

But is that even a possibility? I just met this man, but we already have feelings for each other. And I’m on the outs with my network. The guys needed me to be the strong one, the moneymaker, the successful partner. I… I’m none of those things. I’m no one special. I’m not powerful and I have no talent.

I rub at my eyes. Stop crying, Sora. Be stronger.

I’m far from strong.

Finishing up in the shower, I dry off and put my clothes back on. At least my hair is clean.

On the bed next to the alien creature, Tiago is awake, bleary-eyed, hair a mess, and a beard shadow so strong, it looks like ten days of growth, not one. My heart aches for him. He didn’t ask for any of this chaos. If I hadn’t shown up at his art gallery, his life would have proceeded as normal.

Guilt gnaws at my insides. I should tell him the truth about who I am, why I’m on the run. But the words lodge in my throat. What if he turns from me in disgust? Or worse, turns me in and calls my network?

No. I can’t take that risk yet. Not until I’m sure we can trust each other.

I join him on the bed and stroke the creature’s soft fur. Its eyes drift closed, comforted.

“We should give it a name,” he says quietly.

I glance up at him. “You’re right. Calling it ‘the creature’ seems so impersonal. And I think she’s a she.”

We’re both silent for a moment, contemplating.

“What about Stella?” I suggest finally.

Tiago smiles a little. “Stella. I like that. It’s perfect.”

He reaches out to scritch under her chin. Stella lets out a rusty purr, nuzzling into his touch. Another wave of relief hits me. She seems to be bonding with Tiago too.

“So what do you think she is, exactly? Some kind of Rio native species?”

Tiago shrugs. “I’ve never seen anything quite like her before.” His brow furrows. “But the way Athens is hunting her… they must know something about Stella that we don’t.”

Yeah. A multi-system corporation doesn’t send agents after just any random animal. Stella is special somehow. And I suspect her ability to form emotional connections has something to do with it.

We lapse into thoughtful silence again. My limbs are leaden, the adrenaline crash from being on the run weighing me down. I only slept a little overnight. I was worried about Stella, worried about Tiago, worried to the point of distraction.

“I’m going to wash up,” Tiago says, standing and stretching. “There are some protein bars and nutrient packs in my bag when you’re ready for breakfast.”

While he’s in the bathroom, I rummage through our meager food supplies. My appetite vanished during the chaos of the last day, but now hunger gnaws at my belly. I peel open a protein bar and take a bite as I sit down on the bed. The fake chocolate taste is cloyingly sweet, but I force myself to eat. We’ll need energy for whatever comes next.

Stella wakes and stretches her wings with a twittering chirp. I break off a piece of protein bar and offer it to her. She sniffs it, then gobbles it down. At least her appetite has returned. I breathe a silent prayer of thanks that she seems to be on the mend.

Tiago returns, looking fresher. He drops a kiss on top of Stella’s fuzzy head, smiling as she trills, and my heart squeezes. She’s bonded so quickly with both of us.

I pass Tiago a protein bar and we eat side by side in companionable silence. But there’s an undercurrent now, a new intimacy in the air between us. I’m intensely aware of his shoulder brushing mine, his warmth, his steady breathing.

I clear my throat, pulse quickening. “So… what’s our next move?”

Tiago crumples up his wrapper, his head bobbing side to side. “We should lie low for a few days, scope things out. See if Athens is still searching for us.” He pauses. “But we can’t hide out in love hotels forever. We’ll need a more permanent place to stay.”

Hmmm. A more permanent place means commitment, establishing identities…

Establishing trust.

Do I trust him? I think I do.

I take a shaky breath. “You’re right. If we’re going to do this… I need to tell you the truth. About me.”

Tiago turns to face me. His eyes are intent but kind. “You don’t have to —”

“No, I do.” My hands twist together in my lap. “You’ve been so open with me, and I haven’t given you the same trust in return. I want to.”

He stays quiet, his eyes meeting mine with confidence. He knows something is up with me.

I clasp my hands together and press them until my knuckles turn white. “My name isn’t really Angela. It’s Sora. Sora Monteiro.”

Tiago chuckles. “I know. You gave me your real name first, remember?”

“Right.” Despite his obvious amusement at my inability to keep a secret identity, tears prickle behind my eyes. “I haven’t always been honest about who I am or where I come from. I’m not used to trusting people.” I take a shaky breath. “But I want to trust you.”

“You can,” he says, his tone simple and matter-of-fact.

And looking at the steadfastness in his eyes, I believe it’s true. Tiago won’t judge me or think less of me, no matter what ugliness from my past I reveal.

I start slowly and tell him everything — about running away from my former relationship network in another city, on another planet, burning bridges, abandoning my old identity and credits. About stowing away on transport ships under false credentials until I ended up here on Rio. How I’ve been squatting in abandoned buildings and dumpster diving, trying to hide from my past.

And all for what? To get away from men who loved me and cherished me because I was sure I was a failure? I couldn’t find a source of income for us. I couldn’t support them.

I’m a failure because I ran.

I should have stayed. I should have committed. I should have been braver.

I’m a coward, and I know it.

When my words run dry, Tiago lifts from his chair and gathers me close, tucking my head under his chin. I cling to him, grasping his shirt between my fingers and squeezing my teary eyes shut. I hate crying and being vulnerable. I hate it. But the relief of confessing is so good it drains me, leaving me limp.

“I’m so sorry you went through all that alone,” he murmurs against my hair. “But you don’t have to hide anymore.”

He rocks me back and forth for a moment. “Do you miss them? Do you want to go back?”

I break into a sob, the kind that shakes your whole body. Tears fly from my lips. “Yes. I miss them.”

He squeezes me. “Let me help you start again.” I tip my chin up to look at him. “Let’s stay here another night and leave tomorrow morning. Okay?”

I nod, throat tight. “I have enough for another night.”

But my network is probably already looking for me because I accessed my bank account. They’ll find me quickly, and then they might be in danger, too. I chew on my lip as Tiago stands up and brushes himself off. We should move hotels, but I just don’t want to.

“I’ll go get us food and supplies and pay for another night.” He leans forward and kisses me on the head. “You should rest.”

When the door closes behind him, the worry in my chest increases. What if he never comes back? What if I’m found before he returns? What if something happens to Stella?

But nothing happens. In less than an hour, Tiago returns with two bags of food, a modest dress and underwear for me, and a smile on his face.

Over the next few hours, we stay holed up in the hotel room, keeping a low profile. We while away the time talking and sharing stories from our pasts. I learn that Tiago once dreamed of being a chef until discovering his artistic talent. He tells me of his close relationship with his two sisters, who still live on Palo Alto in the Californikus System.

In return I reveal parts of myself I’ve kept locked away for years — my dream of one day owning an animal sanctuary, my favorite foods and songs, the time I broke my ankle trying to surf the waves on Laguna as a teenager. With each new story we share, we laugh and cry.

We grow closer and closer.

In the evening, I check on Stella, and she’s healing well, her injured wing less swollen. She grooms her coat and stretches her wings, chirping happily, before curling up in my lap for a nap. Her warm little body against mine is a comfort.

That night, as we’re lying in bed with Stella snuggled between us, Tiago reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers trailing down to cup my cheek.

“You know I’m falling for you, right?” His voice is husky, tired.

My heart flutters. “Yeah?”

He smiles, his thumb stroking my skin. “Hard not to. You’re pretty amazing.”

I shouldn’t be happy about this, but I am. I press closer, nudging my nose against his.

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

He huffs a soft laugh. Then his mouth finds mine. The kiss is slow and searching at first, then builds until we’re both breathless. My body aches for him, to feel his skin against mine, his hands on my hips, my legs wrapped around his waist. I’d give anything to get back to my normal life with my network and him. I didn’t realize how much I needed the personal connection until it was gone.

When we draw back, lips kiss-swollen and pulses racing, Tiago rests his forehead against mine. “I’d love to strip you naked right now,” he whispers.

My lower body clenches and I sigh. “Me too.” Our eyes meet, and I can tell right now that when we finally have sex, it’s going to blow my mind.

I cannot wait.

But then Stella wakes, stretches, circles three times, and plops her butt right between our faces.

Nice, Stella. What a way to ruin the sexual tension.

“Obviously, another time,” Tiago says with a chuckle. He lays his hand on Stella and she purrs.

I fall asleep to the sounds of the two of them snoring away.

Maybe tomorrow?