Project Mothership by Ash Gray

Author:Ash Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: lgbt, humor, alien princess, aliens, alien invasion, space marine, alien romance, robots, science fiction, lgbt science fiction, black protagonist, black female protagonist, space opera
Publisher: Ash Gray
Published: 2017-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The slapping flip-flop of Rose’s own footsteps seemed loud to her as she stepped into the dark, silent air outside the hotel room. The neon sign sounded lonely in its buzzing, and the trash that blew across the parking lot seemed as desolate as the desert land beyond.

Oliver was staring bitterly at Rose, his lip curled in a sneer as he sat behind the wheel of his dark spherical car. As Rose approached, she could see he was unshaven, his eyes bleary with whatever alcohol he keep guzzling from his paper sack. When Rose drew near the door, his head wobbled to the side as he pushed the button to unlock it for her. Rose opened the round door but didn’t get inside. She simply stood there, looking in pity at her ex-husband.

Oliver waved his paper sack, sloshing liquor on himself. “Hello, Rosie! Well, look at you! Don’t tell me your new girlfriend beats you. Jesus,” he muttered and took a long swig.

Rose frowned. “What are you doing here, Ollie? You shouldn’t be—”

“Don’t!” he said over her, pointing a bitter finger. “Don’t you dare call me Ollie anymore!”

Rose swallowed unhappily. “Please, go home. It isn’t safe.”

“Nuh uh,” said her ex-husband, shaking his head. She saw him fumble in the glove compartment and pull out a photo. He threw it at Rose, and it spiraled through the air before landing upside-down on the seat. Rose picked up the photo and looked at it sadly. It was a picture of her and Quinn coming out of the laundry mat. She was pushing Quinn in a laundry cart, and Quinn’s arms were open in joyous excitement. Their hair was whipping back and they were bright-eyed and laughing.

“I could handle it when you left me—” Oliver slurred. He halted and shook his head. “Alright, no, no, I couldn’t handle it,” he admitted, waving his hand. “I been following you since you left. Anything to see my little girl.”

Rose swallowed hard, looking at Oliver through a sudden veil of tears and wondering how she was going to tell him that Quinn was not his child. He would not take it well and would likely assume she had cheated on him with another man. If she brought up aliens, he would accuse her of making up stories just to send him away. She stood there indecisively as he took yet another bitter swig, glaring at her steadily.

“Oliver,” said Rose slowly, uncertainly. “Quinn isn’t . . . um.”

Oliver blinked sadly. “Is that what you named her? Is that what you named my little girl?”

“Oliver . . .”

“Or did she name my daughter?” Oliver said, nodding darkly at the hotel room window, in which Zita was still standing like a dour guardian.

Seeing Oliver’s glare, Zita folded her arms and lifted her chin.

“Damn, Rosie,” Oliver said with a hoarse laugh. “You could’ve told me you were a dyke. You know, instead of making up that story about the bartender? It woulda hurt less, anyway. Like maybe I could believe it wasn’t my fault when you left.

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