Held by Luna Voss

2

Barion

I used to brood a lot. Especially during that period after I met Melyta, but before we were reunited. When all I knew was that she had rejected my mark.

I’m brooding again.

I’d stopped, mostly. After I found her. After I killed Gurt in the hospital, and we had that glorious moment of safety, of peace.

There’s nothing peaceful about this. About living under Dagor Agusto’s thumb, on a planet I don’t even like, doing jobs for him like some fucking no-name grunt.

I wanted to provide a life for us. For Melyta, and the family we were going to have. What kind of life is this? What the hell have I provided?

My mate is still with me, and that means the world. But somehow, even that feels tenuous. I’m not proud of the man she sees when she looks at me, and that shame burns inside me every minute of every day. The only time I really feel close to her, really feel like we understand each other, is when I pierce her with my knot.

I don’t know what to do. I feel stuck. Trapped. Trapped by my failure, by the fact that I couldn’t finish Sarizor when I had the chance.

Maybe I never really had a chance.

Maybe I’m exactly what I seem to be: just another Vostra thug who couldn’t cut it. One more unsuccessful scumbag, trying and failing to make his way in a world that’s too much for him.

Can I live with that?

For myself, maybe. I’ve lived with failure before. I survived an entire year after Melyta rejected me the first time. If I made it through that, I can make it through anything.

But can I face her, having accepted defeat? Can I look my mate in the eyes, knowing that I’ve let her down?

I don’t have answers to these questions, but they heavily weigh on my mind.

Melyta has been great. She isn’t putting any pressure on me. In fact, no one is. There isn’t any pressure. Not from the outside, anyway.

So why do I feel like I’m drowning?

The pressure that’s crushing me right now is all coming from myself. I want to be more than this. To provide more than this for my mate. To live a different life, one that means something, one I can be proud of.

One I can be proud to share with her.

She makes me happy. I’m not sure I deserve it, but she does.

I need to be the man she deserves.

“Damn, Barion, we’re just burning a building, not killing someone,” says Korva, sitting next to me as he drives. “You look like you’re getting ready to commit a murder.”

“Sorry,” I grunt, staring stonily out the window as the city lights pass by. “Just thinking.”

I appreciate that Korva doesn’t ask me what I’m thinking about. My best friend knows me well.

“How’s Melyta holding up?” he asks instead, turning the conversation to brighter topics. “It’s been fun giving her driving lessons. She’s a fast learner.”

This is snaps me out of my funk, at least a little bit. “Ha. You know I caught her driving by herself the other day? She’s lucky she didn’t get pulled over.”

Korva raises his eyebrows. “Hey, look at it this way. If she didn’t get pulled over, at least you know she’s doing something right.”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. You better believe she found herself over my knee when she got home.”

“I mean, obviously.”

I hesitate. “It felt… weird, though. Melyta doesn’t usually do stuff like that. She knows better.”

“You think it might be because she’s unsatisfied?”

Korva obviously sees the look on my face, because he hurries to amend himself. “Sorry, I just mean— this is a pretty big shift, is all. The way we’re living on Gerbbbexai IX. And it’s not like you’ve exactly been your old self.”

“What you mean I haven’t been my old self?”

“Oh, come on, Barion. Every time I see you, you’re this miserable, brooding black hole of emotion, glaring out the window like a hormonal teenager. You barely even laugh at my jokes anymore. I’m not the only one who notices that.”

“You’re talking about Melyta.”

“Yeah. Look, it isn’t my business, and I can drop the topic if you want. But maybe we’re… due for a change.”

“A change.”

“Mhm. A change. You know, those things you make happen when you want your life to be different?”

“I already tried to make a change,” I sigh, “and it ended with Sarizor beating the shit out of you and almost killing my wife.”

“Well, at least you don’t sound defeated.”

I glance at Korva and see that he’s smiling. He’s teasing me. I try to fake a laugh, but I can’t even manage it.

“Yeah,” says my friend. “That’s exactly what I mean. The Barion I used to know would have had something to say about that.”

My shoulders slump. “What is there to say? I tried and I failed. It didn’t work out. What, am I supposed to get Melyta killed trying to beat a guy who’s already kicked my ass?”

“Would you be happier spending the rest of your life burning down restaurants for the Agusto Family like some random two-bit thug?”

He stops the car, and I realize we’re parked on the other side of the street from the restaurant we’re meant to burn down. I sigh in frustration. I’m tired of this shit. Shaking down businesses, doing them damage when they don’t pay protection money. This is entry-level stuff. This is shit I shouldn’t be doing as a former underboss.

Not like Dagor Agusto cares. I’m no use to him now, except for in ways like this. With my influence in Dalax City gone, I’m now just like any other mobster, and he doesn’t trust me enough to give me any real responsibility.

I stare at the building in a haze as Korva fills bottles with fuel next to me.

“Here, you want to help with the fuses?”

Numbly, I insert fuses into the bottles Korva has filled, barely paying attention to what I’m doing. I don’t even know what the hell I’m thinking about. I just don’t want to be here. Don’t want to live this life.

“For fuck’s sake, Barion, how many fuses does one bottle need?”

I look down and see that I’ve inserted three different fuses into the same bottle of flammable liquid. Shaking my head, I pull out two of them and start to prepare the other bottles.

“You able to help with this, or am I on my own?”

Korva is looking at me, a bottle in each hand.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I grunt. “Let’s do this.”

Together, we start tossing bottles of fuel at the restaurant until the whole front of the building is engulfed in flames. Then we glance at each other, climb lazily back into the car, and drive away, content that our mission is complete. Even if the fire department shows up right away, our point has been made. Pay the Agusto Family’s protection money or else.

“You really don’t get tired of doing this shit?”

It’s Korva, interrupting my thoughts again. I turn to him, prying my eyes away from the city lights outside the passenger-side window.

“I really don’t... what?”

He gives me a look. “Get tired of this. Burning buildings, doing Dagor Agusto’s little errands. This sucks, right?”

I sigh. “Yeah, it sucks.”

“So do you ever think about doing something else?”

“Every fucking day.”

I glance at him and see that he’s still looking at me, his expression serious. Sighing again, I turn my body in his direction.

“It seems like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“Yeah, I do. You remember that job we talked about?”

“Which job?”

“You know, the big one. The one we were all excited about when we thought we’d be running the Dultaz Family together.”

“The planetary mining gig?”

“Yeah, that.”

“What about it?”

Korva scratches his nose. “I mean, what do you think? Who’s to say we can’t still pull it off? Beats the shit out of what we’re doing now.”

I dismiss this idea without even considering it. “Too dangerous. Besides, that was when we had an entire Vostra family’s resources at our disposal. Unless you want to cut Dagor in on this, I don’t see how we get it done.”

My friend has clearly put some thought into this. “Are you sure about that? We’d have to plan it a lot more carefully, but the basic idea is still there. I still know people. And didn’t you say you had a connection in Rangasta Logistics?”

I shake my head. “Look, I just can’t put Melyta through that. Not after everything we’ve been through. I’m trying to create some kind of stability here.”

Korva shrugs. “Hey, whatever you say. But think it over. I can tell you aren’t any happier than I am living like this.”

Melyta is waiting for me on the couch when I get back to our apartment.

“There you are,” she says, wrapped in a blanket. She clambers off the couch and gives me a hug.

I hug her back, feeling distant. I’m just listless, unable to get Korva’s suggestion out of my mind. It’s hard to be present as a husband when I feel like this.

“You want some food? I saved you leftovers.”

I nod. She leads me to the table and fixes me up with a plate, which I accept gratefully.

“This is good,” I murmur, tucking in.

She watches me eat, a funny expression on her face.

“What?” I ask.

Melyta shakes her head. “I just— something’s the matter, isn’t it?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I know you. Did something happen on your job with Korva?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing.”

“Can you just let me eat in peace?”

She looks hurt by that, and I don’t blame her. I’m being a dick. I soften my tone, getting up and standing behind her to rub her shoulders.

“Sorry. I guess I’m a little moody today.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You want to tell me what’s the matter?”

I feel my own shoulders sag. I don’t even know how to give words to the way I’ve been feeling lately. I rest my head on top of hers, thinking.

“I hate this,” I tell her finally. It’s blunt, and it’s true. I hate this.

She spins around in her seat so that she’s facing me, straddling the back. “You hate what?”

I gesture around me. “This. All of this. Zog, Gerbbbexai IX, Dagor fucking Agusto. You know what I did tonight? I burned down a restaurant like a fucking entry-level punk.”

“I hope it wasn’t that place on the corner of 9th and L,” she chuckles. “They have really good sandwiches.”

I close my eyes and lean forward, resting my forehead against hers. She strokes my cheeks affectionately, then gives my lips a peck.

“Hey,” she whispers. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know,” I say, cracking a smile.

But as we go to bed that night, it’s Melyta who seems restless.

“Vostra?” she says as I’m about to turn out the lights.

“Yes, vulta?” I reply.

“Why don’t we just... run away from here?”

I blink. “What?”

“You know. Just run away. Leave it all behind. No more Agusto Family, no more Vostra. Find a little corner of the galaxy, find a place to live, and just be together. Away from all of this.”

“We’d never be safe,” I grunt. “Not with Sarizor Dultaz out for our heads. We’re only safe right now because we have the Agusto Family’s protection.”

“Okay... but how much influence does Sarizor really have? What if we went to a whole different quadrant?”

“Now that he’s allied with the human mob? He has more influence than he’s ever had before. Sarizor is dangerous, Melyta. More dangerous than you know.”

“Okay but... Barion, I don’t want to keep seeing you like this. I know you’re not happy. I’m not happy. We have to change something.”

I shake my head, hating myself, hating the decision I have to make, but knowing there isn’t another choice.

“Melyta, I’m not going to risk your safety just because we got a little bored of things. We’re staying here on Gerbbbexai IX, where no one is trying to have us murdered. I’m sorry, but that’s final.”

She turns away from me in bed. The last look I see on her face isn’t anger, or even disappointment. It’s just sadness. Resignation. I start to reach out, to touch her shoulder, to tell her everything is going to be okay, but I don’t. I can’t.

It wouldn’t be honest.

Everything’s not going to be okay. It already isn’t okay. I feel trapped, absolutely fucking trapped on this planet, in this situation, in this life. It’s my fault. It’s what I created when I tried to kill Sarizor last year. We went from living under one mob boss to living under another. From Dultaz to Agusto.

At least Dagor isn’t trying to kill us.