Текст книги "Wed To The Alien Prince"

Автор книги: January Bell

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CHAPTER TEN

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KANUZ

I do not wish to fall asleep. I could stare at this small golden female for hours on end. The way her lips part slightly in sleep, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyes move under her eyelids.

What does she dream of, I wonder?

I brush the tips of my fingers across my lips, marveling at her trust, still shocked that she put her mouth on mine. That she wanted me enough to act on her instinct.

She is fierce and prickly as the cactus flower she told me about, but every inch of her is soft and so fragile.

My eyes close, and my grip tightens on the small human warrior.

Perhaps my father was right about me. Perhaps I am impulsive and lack what it takes to truly rule Sueva as it should be ruled.

Because now, with my heart’s desire in my arms, I still want to find the many-faced goddesses’ treasure.

What kind of husband does that make me, to risk the wellbeing of my chosen mate?

But what kind of husband would it make me to not take a chance to create a better future for her, for all of Sueva, if we can find the symbol of the goddesses’ blessing and unite our people?

I cannot risk losing her; I cannot risk tearing my people apart any more than they already are.

A heavy sensation tightens my chest, and I watch Gen’s breathing even out more as she falls more deeply asleep.

I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.

And right now, that means finding the treasure and ensuring we can have the future I so desperately want, the future Sueva so desperately needs. I can prove to my ailing father that I am fit to rule. I can prove to my Gen that I will be a good husband, the best mate. And I will prove it to myself.

The treasure is the key.

It’s the only real chance at a future for any of us.

The fire still flickers when I wake, casting the same warm light. I blink a few times, confused about where I am, and it takes a moment for me to remember. In the ruined temple. The glossy wall and the pool both reflect the living flame in the wall, and it dances across Gen’s sumptuous fall of hair.

She’s so beautiful, so unlike any female I’ve ever seen, that I nearly stop breathing as I drink her in. My golden flower will be safe. I may not have been raised a warlord, but I am a prince, and I am confident in my ability to see us through the trials that the goddess and the ancients will have in store.

Her eyelashes flutter, and her eyes open wide, that crystalline blue piercing right through my heart as she gives me a long, sleepy look.

“Hi,” she finally says, stretching long and languid. My eyes follow the curve of her breasts, the taut muscles of her abs, before tracking the plump curve of her ass and muscled thighs. I ache with the need for release.

“How did you sleep?” I ask.

She yawns, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, everything about her so fragile in the dull morning light. “I slept fine. How did you? Did you… Did you hold me all night?” She scoots away from me, her eyes wide with mortification. “That could not have been comfortable. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I had to hold you all night. I could not have my wife, a princess of Sueva, sleep on the cold stone floor.” I shake my head, then tilt it, working out some of the knots that have, indeed, formed during the night. “It was my honor to hold you. It will always be my honor to hold you.”

She blinks at that, her mouth round with surprise. “Ah, okay. Well, thank you. For, uh, holding me. All night.” Her hands rub against her bare arms and she casts her gaze around until it lands on her shirt, dry on the rocks next to me.

I pick up the flimsy material and hold it out to her.

“You know, when we get back to Perzivor, I will have the finest garments made for you. Blue, I think, to match your pretty eyes.”

“That’s really not necessary,” she says, plucking the shirt out of my hands and tugging it over her head. She pulls her hair out of the neck hole.

I snort, incredulous. “You would wear that every day? If you insist, I can have our tailors make you more pants and shirts, I suppose. But I would like to see you in the clothes of our people.”

She pauses, tugging on the hem of her shirt, picking at a loose thread there, before narrowing her eyes at me.

I grin. I have grown to like that expression, like the challenge in it, and I ready myself for the barbed words I’m sure are on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m not a doll or a pet to be dressed up. I’m a First Officer of the Federation, and I’m here to…” She clears her throat. “I was here to make sure that Earth got the tech we need to protect ourselves from further Roth invasions, as you know.”

“You are here as my wife.” I stand up slowly, stalking toward her. She holds her ground, and my smile deepens further. “The tech is on the way to Earth. And what you wear has nothing to do with who you are to the Federation. You are also a Princess of Sueva now.” I tilt my head, studying her. “If you do not want to wear our garments, that is your choice. You are stunning no matter what you wear. Or what you don’t wear.” I flash some fang at her, and her throat bobs.

“I just…” She rakes her hand through her golden locks, and her fingers snag on the tangled ends. I frown. I should have combed it for her. I haven’t cared for another in a long time. Sure, I have been with my choice of females, but that was different.

I want to care for this prickly human.

I want her to look to me and see safety, see comfort.

To see her future. Our future.

And for that future to be safe, we have to keep moving. We have to solve the riddle of this place, and get to Edrobaz, then move on to Perzivor, where our home and future await.

And in the meantime, she will fall in love with me, and accept her place by my side.

I remember the way her lips felt on mine last night, and I take another step closer.

“Do you want to kiss me again, wife? Would that convince you that you might like being mine? I can think of other places to kiss, if you need even more convincing.”

She makes a strangled noise, pinching the bridge of her nose.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

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GEN

Why does he keep offering to eat me out?

The better question is, why in the world am I considering say yes?

I’m in a freaking pit, in a ruined temple, on an alien planet with angry dinosaurs outside, and part of me is like, sure, yeah, let’s get down and dirty with the alien prince who keeps offering oral like it’s a party favor at the universe’s worst party ever.

All I can do is stare at him.

The queen of comebacks is all out of witty repartee.

He laughs quietly, like he knows I’m thinking about it, goddammit, and he probably does know it, considering he can oh, I don’t know, scent my arousal?!

I would like to do a big scream, but I’m too afraid something gnarly and alien is going to pop out of the water behind me and chomp me like a mid-morning snack.

“No, thank you,” I say stiffly. Look at you, Genevieve Durand, making good choices, and so polite, too!

“Do humans not like that?” His tail lashes behind him.

I rub my face.

“You never did tell me about human mating rituals.”

“It’s too early for this conversation. I need coffee. Food.”

“I do not know this kaw-fee.” He shakes his head, forlorn, and it’s adorable.

I mentally smack myself. No. He is not adorable. I cannot think about him like that! I can’t catch feelings for this alien. I can kiss him, I can appreciate his ability to keep me safe, I can appreciate his ridiculously hot body, but I cannot catch feelings.

No. I cannot stay here. I cannot be a princess. I’m at least ninety-nine percent sure. I am one hundred percent sure that these are also problems for future Gen. Current Gen just needs to get the fuck to safety. I keep rubbing my face, trying to sort myself out.

“Are you all right, my flower? You are going to hurt your eyeballs if you continue to rip at them with your tiny claws.”

My hands fall away from my face, and I stare up at him. “Tiny claws?”

“Perhaps I was wrong,” he shrugs. “They do not look fearsome, after all.”

I frown, staring at my fingernails. I never thought I would feel insulted by someone saying my nails weren’t capable of savaging eyeballs, but here I am. Just chock-full of new experiences!

“I will catch you something to eat, my cactus flower. Then we will set off on our great adventure.”

“Ah—” Before I can finish whatever I was about to say, Kanuz strips his pants back off, diving into the pool.

Sudden fear trickles over me. What if something happens to him in there? What if there is an alien monster in there, and it chomps him for second breakfasts?

“Potatoes,” I moan, backing up from the pool. Why didn’t I disobey orders and bring a damn weapon to that stupid ass ceremony? The ceremony where I wound up married?!

Well, at least I know now why the Federation was so fucking weird about us participating in their ceremony fully.

My hands fist at my sides, a fresh wave of hot anger washing over me. Those slimy motherfuckers.

Kanuz pops up a second later, a whitish-translucent fish in either hand. “Look, my flower! We will have enough to bring some along.”

“Yay,” I manage. “Any chance of po-tay-toes down there, too?” I laugh at my own joke, but it’s a high, strained sound.

“I do not have kaw-fee, and I do not have po-tay-toes.” Kanuz sighs, shaking his head as he tosses the still-flopping fish near the fiery wall. “I only have the fish, my Gen.”

“It’s all good.” I nearly correct him on calling me his Gen, but I don’t. Why bother? It has nothing to do with the little warm fuzzies I have now.

Probably.

He beams at me, his tail swishing behind his powerfully sculpted butt, his thick thighs corded with muscle. I don’t even look at his dick. Much.

“Any chance you know where to start getting us out of here this morning?” I ask, watching as he easily cleans the fish with nothing but his scary ass talons. Geez. No wonder he was worried about me scratching my eyes out. Now I’m worried about him scratching my—

“You always have those talons?” I cringe at my own random question.

He looks up slowly from the gutted fish, that same self-satisfied smile tugging up the corners of the fish. “Why are you thinking about my talons?”

“Just curious.”

“I can rid myself of them, if you are worried, my flower.” He purrs.

I turn away, staring at the etchings in the glossy wall. “Anyway!” I nearly yell it, managing to startle myself as the sound echoes off the solid wall. “Where do we go after we eat? I don’t see a door, or a handle, or anything.” Now that I’m awake enough to think about it, my lips twist to the side.

God, I hope there wasn’t a damn door here all night. I slept really great, amazingly well, in Kanuz’s arms, but the thought of there being a door here, leading to who knows what… It freaks me out.

Why did I sleep so well last night? Exhaustion and a full stomach for once. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.

“There is no door. Not right now,” he says cheerfully. He’s standing right beside me, and I startle again.

The fish sizzles where he holds it against the flames still burning on the wall. It smells amazing, and my mouth waters.

“There is a riddle at the end of this wall. We have to solve it before the goddess will allow us to move on.” He hands me a skewer of fish.

“Thanks,” I tell him. Potatoes and second breakfasts aside, I’m beyond grateful for more food. “Before the goddess allows us? What does that mean?”

His tail thumps against the floor, and my gaze darts to it. Gah! He’s still pantsless. “It means that we have to solve the riddle before we can leave this chamber.”

Sure, why not? “Think we can be out of here today?”

“Perhaps,” he says slowly, heating his own skewer of fish. “Perhaps the goddess will smile down on us and decide we are worthy sooner than later.”

“So not likely, then.” I blow out a breath, making a frustrated raspberry sound.

He shakes his head, amusement sparking in his eyes. “My flower, I enjoy your company very much. You are like sunshine given life.”

I snort. “Yeah, right.” No one’s ever said I had a sunny disposition before, and I laugh some more, before quieting. Well, no one’s said it since the Roth attacked. Maybe I used to be.

I finish off the rest of the fish in silence. Kanuz doesn’t speak either, though it’s not an awkward quiet. No, it’s companionable, like the quiet a married couple who’s been together a very long time might have after breakfast.

Good grief. I am married. It doesn’t seem quite real, probably because we married in their Suevan tradition and I had no idea it was happening, but still! There’s the proof, all near seven scaled feet of him, grinning at me when he catches my eye.

Now that I can talk to him, really talk to him, that is, not play that terrible version of survivor charades, it’s easier to be in a good mood.

I guess communication is the key to a good marriage, after all.

I snort at myself, washing my hands off in the pool, before cupping them and drinking deeply.

“Take off your shirt,” Kanuz tells me, kneeling beside me and cleaning his own hands, using some of the gritty gravel to scrub his talons.

“What?”

“We can use your shirt to carry the cooked fish in. I will knot it into a little pouch for you.”

I sigh. I can’t fault the logic of it. It makes sense, considering the delicate flesh of the fish would get smashed to smithereens in the crappy pockets of my uniform pants.

“Fine.” I tug it overhead, and Kanuz makes quick work of it, depositing the chunks of cooked fish into the fabric before handing it back to me. “Do I just hold it?” It feels weird to hold my own shirt, full of fish, and for a second, I don’t know what to do with my hands.

“You are like a youngling.” He laughs. “Here.” Kanuz takes the makeshift pouch from me. “I will fasten it to you.”

His talons scrape gently across the waistband of my pants, and I shudder at his unexpected touch. Not a bad shudder, either, but an excited shake that sends goosebumps all over my skin.

“Why are you bumpy?”

“It’s just a thing human skin does sometimes. I have no idea.” I frown, his dick all too close for comfort. “Why are you bumpy?” He is, too, his rock-hard alien eggplant covered in texture. “That’s not, like, diseased, is it?”

“Diseased?!” His tone is offended, and I snort again, glancing up at him. “I am not diseased.”

“I don’t know! You keep bragging about how many women you’ve slept with.”

“Diseased,” he mutters to himself. “Diseased, me, the prince of Sueva. You humans have strange ideas.”

I resist the urge to poke his cock out of sheer curiosity, clenching my hands into fists. He’s too close. Too warm. Too muscled. I squeeze my eyes shut, because truly, that’s the only way I’m getting his bumpy dick out of my line of sight. Sure, I cuddled up with the jolly green giant last night, but this feels… different. Like my whole body is awake and aware of him.

“It is not a disease, my flower. Those are my pleasure bumps. If you were not holding your blue eyes closed, you would see how they are bigger for you the harder I get. They will make you feel good, so good, as I thrust inside you, filling you with my pleasure.” His voice is a husky whisper.

I bite my cheeks. It should be funny, right? This alien prince telling me about how he’s going to fuck me silly with his sex toy cock, bumped for my pleasure… but it is not. It is not funny, because my stupid body is clenching in anticipation.

Why does dirty talk have to be my thing and why does Kanuz have to keep TALKING DIRTY?!

“Riddle!” I yell out. “Let’s solve the riddle and put pants on! Pants and riddles! They go together like potatoes and coffee!”

“Why are you shouting at me, Gen? Is your translator failing again?” Worry creases his forehead. “Those damn symbionts. I told my scientists that they could be too untrustworthy. They have a mind of their own, you know.”

“Symbiont?” I tug at my earlobe. “I can’t. You know what? I really can’t with that. That’s one too many facts for me right now.”

“It is a perfectly safe creature, Gen, I promise you that, they are just a little temperamental. Which is why I told my scientists to look for another—”

“I really don’t want to hear anymore. I really don’t want to hear about it.” I shake my head again, trying to dislodge that extremely disgusting new information. Alas, my brain is not an etch-a-sketch.

“Do humans often argue and yell when they are aroused? You are a confusing female.”

“No. Yes.” I throw my hands in the air, narrowly missing slapping the still-too-close Kanuz. “Focus,” I yell again, mainly talking to myself. “Let’s get going so we can get out of here.”

“I, too, am eager to begin making our family together, my flower,” he says agreeably. Ugh. He’s so cute when he smiles at me like that, like I’m his whole world.

A woman could get used to that kind of thing. “That’s not… I want to see my crew,” I say faintly.

“Because you are a good leader.” He nods. “You must see to them before you can focus on swelling with our young.”

Ew. “That isn’t the most ideal description.”

“I long to see you heavy with my child, Gen, so that everyone knows the future of Sueva is secure, and so that everyone knows that you are mine. For our scents to mix all over your irresistible body…” He sighs, and I swear to god, his dick jerks.

“Then we better get started on this damn temple,” I tell him, caught somewhere between annoyance and unwilling affection.

It’s just so cute, how he wants a family. I have an IUD, so there’s no way I’m swelling with anyone’s young, least of all my accidental alien husband, but it’s cute all the same. He’d probably be a great dad. He’s funny and patient, and he’s taken good care of me, for all we were irritated at not being able to communicate for too long.

I cut off that line of thinking.

“Yes, the dam temple,” he says. “Let us begin.” He rubs his hands together, one eyebrow raising mischievously.

I laugh in spite of myself. “Pants.”

“Pants,” he agrees, pulling them on.

I should look away, really, I should. But it’s more fun to watch his muscles do muscly things as he tugs the tight fabric into place.

When he catches me watching, his smile is dazzling, and my heart skips a beat.

If I’m being honest with myself, he’s hot for an alien. He’s hot for a human.

I’m hot for the alien prince.

“If you look at me like that, I will not be able to focus, as you keep asking me to do.”

“I’m not looking.” Busted.

“You are looking, my sweet flower, and I am glad for it.”

“Temple,” I shout, as though I’m declaring sanctuary.

“Temple,” he agrees, turning to face the wall. His back is so thickly slabbed with muscle it’s a wonder he isn’t the illustration in anatomical studies. I tilt my head, taking in his massive tail. For all I know, he might be, here on Sueva.

“The riddle is here,” he says, walking to where the glossy wall butts up against the rough hewn stone the rest of the pit’s made from.

I follow him, the Federation tank/fish pouch swaying against my hip as I move.

His talon traces along the edges of a snake carved into the wall, the eye of it a glittering prism standing out even against the highly polished surface. The head and the eye rest in the center of the coils, where they fan out in an ever-wider pattern.

I frown. There’s something familiar about it, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“Here and here,” Kanuz murmurs, his voice low as he puzzles over it. He points to a sequence of characters next to it that make absolutely no sense to me.

“What do those say?”

“They’re numbers. There’s no rhyme or reason to them.” He shrugs one shoulder, and I lick my lips. “There is no sequence, no pattern that I can determine. And I was taught by the best scholars and mathematicians on the planet.” His frown deepens. “Just a random jumble.”

He moves his finger around, and I gape.

The numbers—the alien characters—move.

“The fuck?” I ask. “Is it a touchscreen? I feel like an idiot sandwich.” This whole time, I thought it was just shiny ass rock.

But no. The ancients of Sueva apparently figured out how to build a perma-touch screen that functions after years of disuse.

Ridiculous.

“Of course, it is. How else would we be able to solve the riddle?” Kanuz turns to me, clearly bewildered. “What is an idiot meal?”

“That’s a great question.” I’m not going to tell him I half imagined we were in a Wizard of Oz scenario, where some actual deity was hanging out behind a curtain, waiting to bless our shiny red slippers. Or combat boots, whichever. “This is cool.” I run the pads of my fingertips over the numbers, and they wave and flicker under my touch, moving when I reorganize them. I don’t have a clue what they mean, but it’s still fun.

“And, ah, it’s idiot sandwich. It’s just a silly saying. I don’t think I can explain it.” I shrug one shoulder.

“I would make a meal of you, but it would not be a stupid one.” His tail lashes back and forth. “I would—"

“So we have a snake, and a bunch of numbers,” I interrupt. “Is there some kind of myth with a snake and numbers in your religion?”

“Not that I recall. Perhaps…” He purses his lips, his fingers darting over the surface. “Perhaps if I use the numbers that correspond to the letter order and drop them in the snake…” he stops talking, dumping a sequence of numbers into the interior of the snake.

I stare at the characters in the coils, willing something to happen.

Nothing does. Instead, they flicker, then disappear before reappearing in the number pile again.

Numbers inside the snake. It triggers a memory in me, but when I grasp at it, the idea eludes me. I fucking hate when that shit happens. Why is it always when you need to remember something the most your brain just gives you the middle finger and goes back to sleep?

“Serpent?” I ask hopefully.

He shrugs. “Worth a try.” The numbers are added to the coils again. Nothing.

“Perhaps the name of the many-faced goddess’ snake avatar.” He tries a new combination, and I suck in a breath once I realize I’ve been holding mine.

The numbers disappear again.

“Maybe we should have started this last night.”

“I enjoyed what we did last night.”

“We slept,” I say, a low laugh coming out of me. “It was nice to be out of the rain for once, though.”

“I held my mate all night,” Kanuz growls, and this time, irritation and hurt flicker over his aggressively masculine features. “There is nothing in this temple that could top that.”

“Oh.” I blink. “That was nice, too.”

“Nice,” he rasps, turning back to the wall—touchscreen—and jabbing at it ferociously.

My nose wrinkles. Isn’t it too soon for him to get his feelings hurt in this… relationship? Marriage? I mean, we only just started communicating. Sure, I kissed him last night, but this is a whole new level of stage five clinger.

The weirdest part is… it’s kinda cute. Why do I think it’s so cute?!

I watch him poke at the wall, staring at the coiled snake and letting my mind drift over our weeks together.

And then it hits me.

“Fuck yeah,” I say, a bit breathless as the thought bowls through me. “Fibonacci.” The word bursts out of me, and I tilt my head, considering. “That’s it. It’s a Fibonacci spiral. The Fibonacci sequence.”

“The what?” Kanuz is watching me, his eyes narrowed, diamond-pupils fixed on my face.

“Oh.” I blow out a breath, deflated. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t call it that, huh? Uh, lemme try to explain.” Math wasn’t my strong suit. Am I terrible at it? No. Is it my favorite? Also no. “Uh, okay, so there was this dude named Fibonacci, and he figured out this sequence of numbers, where they, like… fit together. Each one is the sum of the previous two numbers, and if you…” I trail off, closing one eye, like that’s going to help me concentrate. “If you create a physical representation, it makes a perfect spiral.”

“The sunshine ratio,” he says, his eyes wide, an expression of awe on his face. “Of course, you would know that, my golden flower.”

Okay, so we’ve progressed to a golden flower. Still, I can’t help a little shiver of pleasure and pride at the starstruck look in his eyes. No one has ever looked at me like that, like life’s a puzzle and I hold all the answers.

Call me Fibonacci, I guess.

“I will try it,” he declares, his fingers whirring over the screen as he dumps characters into the spiral of the snake.

The numbers dissolve into nothing, and I exhale noisily. Damn. I was so sure I’d cracked it. Kanuz places a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“It was an excellent idea,” he says.

The snake collapses in on itself, the jewel of the eye falling out of the screen. Kanuz’s hand whips out, and he catches it before it can hit the stone and gravel ground.

“Holy shit, I did it! I feel like fucking Indiana Jones!” I’m screeching, way too excited about going deeper into this death trap of a temple.

When Kanuz straightens, his expression is dark, iciness replacing the warmth that breathed in his gaze only moments ago.

A seam appears in the wall, and an arched door swings open where the snake and numbers once hung out. Kanuz nods at me.

“Well done,” he says, but it’s cold. I stare up at him, utterly confused at his sudden tone change. Talk about whiplash.

“Thanks?”

His face softens briefly, but then he frowns. The interior of the newly opened chamber is dark, and I press myself closer to him.

“I can’t see in there,” I whisper. I’m not really sure why I’m whispering, but the need to keep quiet steals over me.

“Maybe you should ask your Indiana Jones for help,” he says stiffly.

My nose scrunches up, and I tilt my head in confusion, trying to get a read on him.

“What?”

“The Indiana Jones you want to fuck,” he says.

Realization dawns on me, and I choke back a laugh. It’s not funny, not really. I bite my cheeks. His feelings are hurt because I said I felt like fucking Indiana Jones. I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep the laugh inside.

“That’s not,” I finally gasp out, “that’s not what I meant. Indiana Jones isn’t real. It’s a character. From a story. A movie.”

His brow furrows. “You want to fuck a figment of your imagination?”

I can’t help it. A huge laugh barks out of me, and then I’m gasping for air. If Bex were here, she’d be having a field day with this. She would likewise be fucking the hot alien, that’s for damn sure. I hope my girl is getting hers.

The thought brings me up short, and I blow out a shaky, near-hysteric breath.

“No. Okay, let me back up.” I inhale slowly, forcing myself to calm down. “Indiana Jones is a cool explorer dude, a total badass, although the colonial appropriation is pretty problematic. But regardless! He was an archaeologist, and he went on all these dangerous adventures. I meant that I felt like him. Cool, and smart, and hot, and all that good stuff. The fucking was just… an adjective.”

My lips twist to the side, because I’m not sure how well I’ve conveyed my thought process or whether or not fucking is an adjective at all, and trying to explain my random statement makes me sound fairly unhinged.

“You feel cool and hot at the same time?” Worry tinges his voice now.

Exasperated, I slam a hand against my forehead. “No. It’s figurative. Cool is good. Hot is like… sexy.”

“You are scorching hot, my flower. An inferno.”

“Right.”

“So you do not want to fuck this imaginary explorer?”

My eyebrows go up. He’s jealous. He’s envious of Indiana Jones, which somehow makes him seem more human than ever.

“I cannot stand the thought of you with another male, my golden flower.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, which is probably a good thing, considering the question and my propensity for blunt honesty. He tugs me closer to him, his huge hand bracketing my shoulder.

Together, we trudge through the archway and deeper into the temple of gloom and doom.

The door slams shut behind us, and a grinding reverberates through the room, rattling my teeth.

I sway as the ground rumbles, and Kanuz sweeps me up into his arms a second later, snarling at nothing I can see.

“What is it?” I whisper. I wish I had my gun.

Light cascades through the chamber, the line of fire igniting in thick whorls and swirls along the stone walls, and I see what it is that has Kanuz’s hackles raised. Literal and figurative hackles.

The walls are covered in spikes. A white ribcage hangs from one, a skull on another.

And they’re pressing closer.

Towards where Kanuz holds me tight against him.

How the hell are we going to get out of this?

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