Authors: Stormy Glenn Lynn Hagen
He didn’t have warm fuzzy feelings when he thought of family, and Gigi only cemented his belief that family sucked. His crew was different. They were a different breed that would fight by his side and die for each other.
That
was what family was all about.
“I’m sorry that your family members were such assholes,” Remy offered.
Gigi stiffened and then raised his head up and glared at Remy. “You don’t know them well enough to call them that,” he bit out with a spark of anger in his eyes.
Remy was floored. “How can you stick up for them if they sold you? Put two and two together, Gigi, and I can’t even see four. Right now all I see is zero, which is how your family ranks with me.”
“You don’t know what could have made them do it. So how can you lie there and judge them?” Gigi rolled from the bed and got to his feet, his hands fisting at his sides. “Try a little empathy.”
“Empathy?” Remy asked as his mouth hung slightly open in utter disbelief. “I’ll show empathy to you, not your family members who made a few credits off of you.” He got up from the bed and walked over to his cupboards, yanking a pair of jeans out and then on.
“You know what?”
“What?” Remy rounded on Gigi and glared at his mate.
“I…you…never mind.”
Gigi stomped from the room, leaving Remy standing there seething.
How the hell do you defend a family that sold one of their own?
Remy couldn’t and wouldn’t see the logic behind it. Gigi needed to wake up and smell the bullshit his family had fed to him.
Remy stormed from the room after his mate. He wanted to know why his mate could defend those monsters. He walked through the mess hall and noticed how everyone was staring at each other in disbelief.
He ignored his crew as he pushed past the double doors and into the kitchen. His mate was slamming pots around, his little nostrils flaring. If he wasn’t so pissed off, it would have been sexy.
No, not sexy, he was mad.
Focus.
“If you come into
my
kitchen spouting crap, I’m going to knock you over the head with a frying pan,” Gigi warned as he grabbed a set of tongs.
Remy backed away from the tongs. Somehow he knew his angel could turn them into a lethal weapon. “Tell me the truth, angel. You don’t know why they did it, and that’s what this is all about.”
Gigi slammed another pot onto the stove and then became as still as a statue, his back to Remy. He waited, giving his mate time to gather his thoughts. His heart hurt when a slight shrug lifted Gigi’s shoulders.
“They had to have their reasons,” Gigi said to the stove. “It wasn’t because they didn’t love me, right?”
Remy’s heart ached as he crossed the room and pressed his chest into his angel’s back. He wrapped an arm around Gigi’s shoulders as his mate relaxed back against him. A hand settled on Remy’s hip as he held his mate.
“To be honest, I can’t tell you why they did it. But I love you. Remember that, angel.”
Gigi sniffled for a moment then lifted his arm and used his hand to wipe at his face. “Drake is ruthless. He’s egotistical and looked at me like the possession he bought. He called me his toy and said that if I ever tried to run, he’d make me pay dearly. If he’s tracked me down, then he’ll stop at nothing to get me back. He doesn’t like to lose.”
“Neither do I, angel. I’m not losing my mate, so Drake can kiss the crew’s collective ass. He’ll have to go through all of us to get to you.”
Gigi bit his bottom lip as he glanced up at Remy. “Can we change the subject? For now at least. We’re away from the planet, so we have time to relax, right? I can cook everyone dinner, and Pax can help me.”
Remy bent and kissed his angel on his temple. “I’ll go get him.” Remy patted Gigi’s ass as he turned on his heel and entered the mess hall. His crew was still standing there looking stunned. “Relax, it was just a small misunderstanding,” he explained to his men.
When no one moved, Remy took a closer notice of everyone. Crank and Blade were looking between Colt and Pax. Pax was standing off to one side shaking like a leaf, and Colt had his talons unsheathed. What the hell was going on here?
“Pax, Gigi needs you in the kitchen.” He watched the blue-skinned man nod his head. His eyes were rounder than dinner plates as he scooted along the wall toward the kitchen. Colt snarled and took one step for every one Pax took, not letting distance come between them.
“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Remy asked as he watched Colt and Pax do a dance routine until Pax reached the kitchen door and scurried through it.
“I think Colt picked up a disease on End of the Line. You see those little feathers sticking out of him.” Crank pointed out as his fingers did a little whirl in front of him. “Maybe we should put him down and save Pax the headache.”
“What does Pax have to…oh shit.” Remy groaned.
Just what he didn’t need. The little assistant jumped at his own shadow from what Remy could see, and Colt was his mate? Colt? The hawk shifter that had once said that mates were like a Paktillian’s disease. If you caught it, you died. That Colt?
Now he got to see Pax run, Colt chase, and Gigi stand between the two of them with a spatula and a set of tongs. If this shit kept up, he was going to stop docking on planets and save them all a headache.
* * * *
Gigi sat buckled in his seat as the ship docked. This was a whole new planet that he’d never seen before. Excitement buzzed through him at the prospect of getting out and exploring Paktil. He knew Drake was on the hunt for him, but there was no possible way he figured out where they were right now.
“Are you going?” Gigi asked Pax excitedly.
“Depends. Have I done a fairly decent job for you?”
Gigi wasn’t sure what Pax was getting at. The man was quirky as hell and didn’t make sense half the time. But he was going to give him his dues. “Are you kidding? You’ve done an amazing job helping me feed these Neanderthals.”
“Hey!” Tank called out to him.
“No offense,” Gigi called back.
“None taken.”
Gigi looked back at Pax. “So, are you coming? You gotta come, please,” he begged as he dragged out the last word. The blue-skinned man seemed to live in his quarters if he wasn’t helping in the kitchen, and Gigi wanted him to get out for a while.
“Okay.” Pax closed one eye slightly. “But you better not leave me behind.”
Yeah, the man was strange as hell, but Gigi liked him. “Promise, now come on.” He unbuckled his seat belt when the thrusters became silent. He had been looking over a Paktillian catalogue and was dying for this cool set of frying pans he had seen. They could cook a cow and a chicken at the same time! Okay, maybe not at the same time, but they were nice and Remy promised to buy the set for him.
Gigi was practically running for the retractable ramp when a hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him to a stop.
“Slow down, angel. The pans aren’t going anywhere, and you need to be a little more cautious.”
Gigi rolled his eyes as his body slumped. “Fine,” he blew out. “I’ll be cautious and slow down,” he tacked on in exasperation. Remy was being a mood-killer right now. He didn’t want to slow down. Gigi wanted those pans.
Remy leaned down and laid a blazing kiss on his lips, leaving Gigi dizzy as he followed behind his mate. The cloud of lust lifted as they exited the ship. Gigi shouted and danced around his mate as the music floated to his ears. It looked to be some kind of festival going on, and Gigi started doing the Cha-Cha.
Pax walked next to him giggling. The man looked like he wanted to dance as well, but he didn’t. Too bad, Gigi was having the time of his life. The crew had to meet someone for a buy, so Tank was their official guard.
Gigi watched Remy walk off with his crew as he and Pax ran through the crowd, Tank yelling at them to slow down or he was going to haul them back to the ship. Not in this lifetime.
They came to a stand that sold Orillian skewers. He bought one for himself and one for Pax. They smelled delicious. The meat fell from the skewer as Gigi picked away at it.
Gigi came to a stop when a man shot in front of him, blocking his way.
“I saw you come off of that ship. You got any screws loose, I’m your man. Crossed wires? I can uncross them. Let me show you what I can do.”
“Back the fuck up.” Tank growled as he positioned his body between the nut job and Gigi. Pax stood slightly behind him, looking around Gigi with big, curious eyes.
“Hey, dude, I meant no harm. I just asked the guy if he had any screws loose. By the way, are any of your screws loose? I can fix them.” He wiggled his brows at Tank. “What’s your lady’s name?”
“The only screws loose around here are yours. Now back the fuck up,” Tank warned the guy again. This time, Gigi heard venom in Tank’s warning.
“They call me Livewire. If there is a live wire exposed…not really…sorta…anyway, I can fix her. If she has a kink in her back.” Livewire thrust his hips forward. “I can knock the dust off of her.”
Gigi and Pax giggled as they watched the animated man. Tank, apparently, didn’t think it was funny. He wasn’t smiling.
“I know how to stroke my Lady Blue,” the pilot bragged as the three walked away.
Gigi looked over his shoulder. The man was racing to someone else, obviously running the same line from the way his hips were moving. He turned to Pax.
“Got any screws loose?” he thrust his hips.
Pax laughed at Gigi, his vivid blue eyes sparkling. He tried not to stare, but Pax looked good when he laughed. The man needed to do it more often. The scared look didn’t fit his face like this smile did.
“He’s harmless.”
“How do you know?” Gigi asked as he continued to giggle.
“Because he was blue,” Pax stated matter-of-factly.
Gigi knew the guy was strange, but he didn’t think he was color-blind. Pax was the one with blue skin. “Uh, no he wasn’t.”
“Yes, he was. The mist around him was blue. That means he was nice or honorable. I still can’t figure out which,” Pax said like Gigi was supposed to know what the hell he was talking about.
Gigi laid a gentle hand on Pax’s arm, stopping him from walking. “What mist?”
Pax shrugged as his eyes darted around the festival. Gigi could tell Pax had become uncomfortable, but he needed to know. This man was around his guys, and he needed to make sure his crew was safe.
“What mist, Pax?” he pushed further.
Pax bounced from foot to foot as he wrung his hands. “Everyone has one. I’m not a freak. Don’t look at me like that. You have one as well. It’s pink. That tells me that you’re safe, if a little odd.”
“Does the crew have a…mist?”
Pax nodded. “Remy has a dark blue one that tells me he’s honorable, or nice. Tank has an orange one that tells me he’s playful. Crank is yellow, so he’s mischievous, and Blade is green, which means he’s friendly.”
“What about Colt?”
“Hey, balloons.” Pax took off to a stand close by, dodging Gigi’s question.
“Uh, okay.” Obviously Pax didn’t want to talk about Colt right now. Gigi would let it go for now, but he was going to find out what color Colt was. From what Remy told him, Colt and Pax were mates. If the hawk shifter didn’t have a good mist, then the crew, or at least Remy, needed to know.
“You ready to get your pans, angel?” Remy asked as he walked up behind Gigi. He glanced at Pax, but the man was engrossed in the balloons.