Destin's Hold (The Alliance #5)(32)

“I’ve had enough, Trig. If you and the others won’t tell me honestly what the fuck is going on, leave me alone or I’ll throw your ass in Chicago’s worst jail. Trust works both ways. Either you trust me and share the information you know, or you stay the fuck away from me. I don’t play games,” Destin stated in a blunt, measured tone.

Trig’s mouth tightened and for a second, Destin thought the other man would remain stubbornly silent. He didn’t look away. This was the moment of truth. All the rules changed once they were off the ship.

“What I tell you will sound unbelievable,” Trig warned, pausing again.

Destin’s jaw tightened. “Do you really think I haven’t dealt with some unbelievable shit in the last seven years?” he retorted.

Trig shook his head. “It isn’t that Razor doesn’t trust you, Destin,” he replied in a quiet voice. “It’s more like we are trying to figure out what is going on.”

Confusion swept through Destin. He could see the flicker of indecision in the other man’s eyes. Something told him this didn’t happen often for Trig. He swallowed the caustic retort that had risen, instead waiting for Trig to continue.

“I’m listening,” he finally said.

Trig nodded, glancing down at the console again and rested his arms on the top of it. “I’ll try to make this as brief as possible and if I’m lucky, without being too confusing. We don’t know much about the Kassisans. They came into the Alliance a few years ago, but have been more of an observer than a participant. It has only been recently that we, or I should say I, have found out much about their capabilities,” he stated.

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Destin observed.

“I’m not. I don’t like any species who could potentially rival the Trivators. The close relationship between the Kassisans and the Elpidiosians makes them a superpower,” Trig muttered with a shake of his head.

“Ajaska didn’t give me the impression he was interested in going to war against the Trivators or the Alliance,” Destin commented. “If anything, he appeared to want to help.”

Trig nodded. “Yes,” he said.

“So, what seems to be the issue? And… why all the melodrama?” Destin demanded with a wave of his hand. “If the threat with the Waxian and Drethulan turns out to be as bad as Razor and the others seem to think, then having a superpower on your side is a good thing. I know it would have made my fight back on Earth a helluva lot easier if I’d had the Trivators on my side,” he added bitterly before he broke off and pushed away from the console.

“Ajaska warned us that your life would be in danger and that it was of paramount importance that nothing happens to you. Razor assigned me to protect you.”

Destin frowned and stared back at Trig in disbelief. His life was in danger. Hell, when hadn’t it been? Kali and he had grown up on the streets, running them from the time they could walk until well after the Trivators had announced their arrival and the Earth had dissolved into a fiery pit of hell and destruction. Now the Trivators thought he needed a damn babysitter? Shaking his head, he crossed his arms and glared back at Trig.

“I hate to tell you this, but you are about twenty-four years too late on the babysitting job,” he replied sarcastically. “I’ll give my mom credit for the first two years of my life.”

“Razor thought this was different,” Trig replied with a shrug.

“Who am I supposed to be in danger from and what exactly did Ajaska say to make Razor think I might be in danger?” Destin asked with a skeptical expression.

“We don’t know,” Trig admitted, reaching up and running his hands through his hair in aggravation. “The damn Kassisan was pretty tight lipped. The only thing he would say was that you were in danger and we needed to keep you alive for the future sake of your planet.”

“For the future sake….” Destin shook his head.

“Yeah, well, we’ve been trying to anticipate how this or that factor might affect an outcome we don’t even know the details of. All we know is you’ve got to live through what’s coming,” Trig said with a frustrated sigh.

Destin released a dry, rough chortle, and dropped his arms to his side. “News flash… My life was already in danger. I killed the man who was trying to kill me, and Chicago is being rebuilt. Ajaska missed the memo, or forgot to send it out, before reality hit. Plus, I already have a team in place to watch my back. I trust them – as much as I can trust anyone. I like you, Trig. I think you are a good man, but I’ve learned that even those you know aren’t always what they appear to be. Go find someone else to piss off – that means to irritate in case you didn’t know. I’ve got enough going on without tripping over your ass all the time.”

“Tough shit.”

Destin heard Trig’s muttered reply, but ignored it. Once they were on the planet, he didn’t answer to anyone, including the Trivator he had come to respect. He turned on his heel and strode out the door of the Disposal Unit. He could feel the tension growing inside him the closer they got to Earth. He was looking forward to returning home, but he was also feeling the stress of what it could mean for Sula and him.

He had been putting off discussing what her position on Earth would be, deciding they had plenty of time before they arrived to do that. It was hard to believe that they were almost out of time. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. A lot had changed over the last two years on Earth. Unfortunately, the feelings toward the aliens wasn’t one of them. Many of the residents and those who had worked and fought with him didn’t believe that the Trivators were the good guys. They sure as hell weren’t going to open their arms to Sula – a Usoleum councilor who would remind them of Badrick.