Lysa wasn’t sure what he meant.
He tipped up her chin. “When I fuck you, I come alive, energised, not like the mine, which takes a piece of my soul every day. You put it back again. However, you are a head-strong woman, proud and stubborn when you have to be. I worry what will become of you back on Earth. If the powerful corporations find out how you cheated on them… they will punish you. You must keep quiet about your opinions.”
She closed her eyes, willing herself not to argue with him. She was a product of her upbringing. Her grandmother had tutored her at home, instilled in her the values that were at odds with those about them—that women should be free to choose their own paths in life, unhindered by the rules of dictatorial companies and quasi governments. Her grandmother, and deceased mother, came from a long line of ancestors who preached a different view of society. A secret group of women who kept their opinions fettered until the day came when they would rise up and declare their rebellion.
If Lysa stayed married to Blake, would he support her? “I don’t know if I can.” She opened her eyes and saw his expression fill with sorrow, his head bowing. Seeing his disappointment hurt. She rallied, determined to honour her marital vows. “No, Blake, please don’t turn away from me. I love you. I will stay with you, but I can’t promise anything, not until I know what I want to do back on Earth.”
He squeezed her hand. “For now, that will be enough for me. You said you love me. That makes me a happy man.” He grinned. “Very happy. Nothing will change, though, Lysa. I will insist on keeping you safe and under my protection, and if that means disciplining you, I will. Do you understand?” He leant forward and kissed her lips. “Please, Lysa, don’t fight me anymore. I’m not your enemy here.”
She embraced his warm kiss, adding her tongue, darting it around his mouth. The heat returned to her belly and his cock stiffened, filling with blood. She broke free of his lips. “All right, mister farmer, you’re on.”
* * *
There was a commotion on the other side of the plant house involving two small groups of wives. Jen was jabbing her finger at somebody, while Sym tugged on her arm, trying to haul her away.
Lysa drove the shovel into the soil, trying to ignore it all. However, it wasn’t in her nature to stand by and see her friends dragged into a brawl. She brushed the dirt off her pants and headed over to where the others stood around the chicken coop.
As Lysa came closer to the gathering, she heard what they the subject of their argument. It didn’t come as a surprise—eggs.
“Everyone knows, Millipede, what you did,” shouted Jen.
The woman in question, whose name Lysa knew to be Millicent, laughed. Standing with her hands on her hips, she cocked her head at her friends. “Hear that? These sluts will say anything to get a thrashing. They lap it up. Bet you she would snitch on her own friend just to watch too.”
Jen clenched a fist. “It’s you who did the snitching, telling the constable about the eggs.”
Millicent pointed at Sym. “Because I saw her take the
m.”
“Two witnesses—that is what Harkess stated. If it was just you, it would be Sym’s word against yours, but you had to twist one of your so called friends into lying too, didn’t you.” Jen turned to face Millicent’s companion, Oona, who blushed bright red and looked at her feet.
“I most certainly did not. Nobody lied.”
Jen threw her arms up in the air. “So the eggs just jumped into her satchel?”
“Not if she put them there. Her fingerprints were all over the shells.”
Sym grabbed at Jen. A tear trickled down her face. “Please, Jen—”
“Of course they bloody were,” Jen shook her arm free. “She took them out and then tried to work out where the hell they came from. You conniving bitch.” Jen lurched forward.
Lysa leapt between the two women, facing her friend and shoved Jen away. “Enough!” She held out her arms, keeping the space between the two occupied. “Jen, what’s the point of this? It’s too late, it happened weeks ago. Sym was unfairly punished and if you don’t calm down, you’ll get a beating too.”
“Come on, Jen. Let’s go.” Sym gestured towards the exit.
Jen lingered, her red cheeks puffed up with anger. Lysa looped her arm around her waist and propelled her away from the sniggering women. “Leave it. She’s not worth it.”
Outside the Green Dome, they caught up with Sym. She walked slowly, head bowed and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Come on, Sym. Come back to my place,” Lysa cajoled, determined to cheer her up.
The three of them sat around the kitchen table in Lysa’s pod. Sym perched on the edge of her seat.
“How do you think those eggs got in your bag?” Lysa asked.
Sym shrugged.
“Oh, it’s obvious,” Jen piped up. “Sym left the bag by the coop and while she was working on the other side of the dome, they planted the eggs. The next thing Sym knows, she comes over to get it, heads out the door and lo and behold, the constable is there ready to pounce.”
“He asked to look in my bag,” confirmed Sym. “I denied stealing them, but when he went into the Dome, Millicent was chomping to tell him how she’d seen me put them there, along with that other witch.”