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“OH SHIT.” HANK, ONE of the night shift miners, jumped out of his chair and nearly collided with Libby. She managed to swerve out of his way without spilling the last drink on her tray.
Shaking her head, she walked around one of the three occupied tables at the Nexus. She set a tall glass of ale imported from Earth in front of another miner, then glanced at the long translucent gray bar on the opposite side of the room.
Hank fisted a handful of his drunk friend’s shirt and hauled him off the counter. After saying something to Ricka, the bartender and her roommate, he helped Jimmy stagger to the door. He’d almost made it out of the building when Jimmy swayed to the left and banged his head against the synthetic metal frame. The thud was so loud, Libby winced.
Her heart went out to the poor guy. Other than a handful of families, the colony was predominantly populated by men. The majority of them worked for the mining corporation. Excavating and supplying the dryterron ore to other planets was Rivean’s main source of business.
Poor Jimmy hadn’t even been on the planet six months before the lonely existence got to him. She’d seen him drink excessively night after night until he worked up the courage to propose to Ricka.
She understood better than most the loneliness he felt. She’d arrived on the planet via the colony’s bride program, filled with the promise of a better future. Within months of her marriage, she’d lost her husband in a freak mining accident. Trey had always been good to her. She hadn’t loved him, not in the way a man and woman committed to each other should. He’d been her best friend, and she’d cared a great deal for him. Given time, she’d believed she might have fallen in love with him.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t get any offers. She did, plenty of them. Avoiding another relationship had been by choice. Most of the men here weren’t interested in anything substantial. They wanted someone to share their bed until their three-year contract with the mining corporation terminated and they returned to Earth.
A slap on her left butt cheek startled her, and she spun around. Carl flashed crooked teeth through his wide grin. Unlike the rest of the miners, he hadn’t bothered to remove his work coveralls before coming to the bar. Flecks of yellow ore clung to the blue fabric and speckled his stringy hair. He smugly grabbed for her again. “Hey, baby. Why don’t you come home with me tonight?”
So not going to happen. Glowering, she quickly moved out of his reach. She curled her fingers around the rim of the tray, and fought the impulse to tell him to go screw himself. Aware of his obsession with her backside, she’d gotten good at avoiding his roaming hands. She silently cursed herself for being so preoccupied, she’d forgotten to stay clear of the table.
His buddy, Boyd, leered at her and chuckled, irritating her even more. The man towered a good six inches over the other miners in the room. Everything about him, from his manicured nails to the designer clothes imported from Earth, spoke of wealth and power. Not a single strand of his chestnut-colored hair was ever out of place. Heck, he probably used more hair products in a week than she could afford in a year.
She avoided him more than she did Carl. She’d heard rumors that he’d roughed up a girl or two at the pleasure house a few blocks away. Whether it was true or not, she had no idea. There was just something sinister in the way he looked at her, and it majorly creeped her out.
The asshole was the nephew of Dale Keagan, the mining company’s owner. The last thing she wanted, or needed, was a problem with either one of them. The elder Keagan pretty much ran the planet, and had the power to make her life hell. It was the only reason she continued to put up with the constant ogling and ass grabbing from the two men.
She’d hoped if they’d heard the word “no” often enough they’d finally get the message and lose interest. No such luck. If anything, her negative responses seemed to encourage their persistence.
Boyd licked his lips. “Maybe she’d prefer a real man between her legs.”
Carl flipped him off. “Fuck you, Keagan.”
Can he be any more of an asshole? Libby could feel the heat rising on her cheeks. It had already been a long week, and she didn’t need any more of their crap. She wished to heck that everyone would leave, especially these two, so they could close up and go home.
Ignoring the men’s grating laughter, she headed for the bar. After setting the serving tray on the counter, she slid onto one of the empty stools across from Ricka. “I know we need the tips to get off this forsaken planet, but if the new guy on Marty’s crew smacks my ass one more time, I swear I’m going to hit him over the head with my tray.” She scowled at the jerk over her shoulder.
Ricka smiled, picked up a discarded glass, then swiped a damp cloth over the counter. “You want me to talk to him?”
Libby appreciated that her friend was always willing to stand up for her, but as tempting as it sounded, she wasn’t willing to have Ricka end up on Keagan’s radar either. “No. They’re done ordering, and I’ll wait until they leave to clear away the glasses.” Libby tapped the counter. “I almost forgot. The guy in the back wants another dreva.”
“Damn, that’s his third one tonight. I’m surprised he hasn’t toppled over yet.”
Libby was thinking the same thing. She’d seen some big guys, capable of holding large quantities of liquor, drop to their knees after a few sips of the potent drink.
Ricka turned toward the mirrored wall behind her and snatched a tall square black bottle off the shelf. After pouring the dark blue liquid into a tall glass, she set it on the serving tray.
“I know. It doesn’t seem to bother him.” Libby shrugged and tucked a loose blonde curl behind her ear. “Maybe he comes from a planet where they have a higher tolerance.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Ricka glanced at the man.
Libby leaned on the counter and lowered her voice. “Well, wherever he’s from, they sure know how to put a guy together in all the right places. And those unusual eyes, they’re so...”
“Intoxicating,” Ricka finished.
“So you have been looking.” Libby could definitely see the man’s appeal. He was impressively large, and his dark hair draped across a set of broad shoulders. His blue-green eyes were catlike, and he had interesting black markings starting along the left side of his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.
“I might be avoiding men at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I don’t take notice when someone so amazingly attractive comes in here,” Ricka said.
Libby glimpsed over her shoulder. “There’s definitely some interest there. He hasn’t stopped staring at you since he got here.
“I say you go for it. He’s an off-worlder, so technically you wouldn’t be breaking any of your rules. One night with him and you’d probably be good for another year. And you got your shots last month, so you don’t have to worry about picking up any strange diseases or getting an unwanted surprise in nine months.” The colony had a strict “no children unless authorized” policy, and getting the mandatory annual birth control injections was heavily enforced. All women, including those who didn’t work for the pleasure houses—the colony’s way of helping the miners cope— were required to get the shot.
“Heck, I might even be tempted to go for it myself if he showed me any interest,” Libby teased. She worried about Ricka. Her friend hadn’t gotten involved with a man in over a year, not since her father’s death. She’d lost her home, courtesy of some stupid rule implemented by the colony. Since Libby had dealt with the same problem the previous year, she’d invited her to share her living unit, then helped her get the bartending job. Not a great place to work, but it sure beat the heck out of the prospect of being a pleasure worker.
Shortly afterward, they’d devised a pact to purchase a one-way flight on a ship bound for Earth. The darned things were extremely expensive, and it was taking longer than they’d hoped to save up the necessary funds. It was almost as if the Keagans wanted to keep the women from leaving the planet.
“Jeez. Stop already.” Ricka laughed and snapped the cloth at her. “I appreciate you intervening on behalf of my sex life, but I’m good.”
“Sure you are.”
The heavy wooden door at the front of the building banged against the wall. Libby jumped, nearly falling off her seat. A Klorthon stood in the doorway, a warrior breed of alien and one she knew was meaner than hell.
