by Pearl Foxx
To think she had eluded herself once again threatened to break her.
She climbed out of bed, that pleasant ache now verging on being a cruel reminder, and threw her handmade nightgown over her head. She crept out into the hall, glancing toward the bathroom door in the hopes Enver would appear and wrap her back up in his arms, but the door gaped open, unoccupied.
At the door of her room, she hesitated. Should she dress and pretend nothing ever happened between them or search for the man who had left her alone in bed?
She put off the decision. Either way, she needed more clothing on before going downstairs.
Imogen entered her room and slipped on a loose-fitting skirt and blouse. She didn’t spend a lot of extra time worrying about under skirts or whether or not the shape of her breasts could be seen through the clothes, her usual concerns about modesty. At least she was semi-respectable. She chuckled to herself. Pseudo-Respectable was all she'd ever been anyway. After slipping into her sturdy boots, she swept a hand through her unruly hair and ventured back out into the hall.
Thump.
The sound came from the floor below.
Imogen ran out into the hall and pushed open the doors to the stairwell.
Thump...
It came again. This time followed by a moan. Enver's moan. When she heard a low unfamiliar voice, her mind stopped processing rational thoughts, and she hurled herself down the stairs, running toward the danger, toward Enver.
She yanked open the door to the Ward, and she practically ran into the hulking shape of muscle standing between her and Enver's voice.
"Imogen, no." Enver's face appeared from around the man blocking her view, his eye swollen and blood smeared across his cheek.
Three men turned to face her once. Two large intimidating cyborgs and one smaller man, barely taller than Imogen herself, with oily skin and a twisted smile.
"So, if the medic here didn't repair our friend, perhaps it was the lady."
"It was me. Leave her alone." Enver gasped, and the cyborg closest to him delivered a blow to the stomach that would've knocked the air out of even the strongest cage fighter. Enver doubled over, falling to the floor with a grunt.
Imogen rush towards him, hands reached out, but before she could reach him, the smaller man stepped in her path.
"I've known our medic friend for quite some time. You'll have to forgive our unfortunate treatment of him, but it's so unusual for someone who knows the rules to suddenly start breaking them." The little man shook his head in a mock display of concern. "My only guess is that either he's truly come to betray us, or he's protecting someone else." His eyes trailed over Imogen, and she became uncomfortably aware of her lack of proper dress. His gaze moved over her body like the slimy trail of a slug and shivered.
"Leave him alone —"
"Don't listen to her. It was me."
Imogen glanced to the bed where the cyborg she had repaired lay, his eyes were open, deep brown and full of sorrow. "How could you?" she asked.
The cyborg turned away his eyes betraying his shame.
"It's amazing the things people will do when properly incentivized." The little man offered. "You see, what's happened here is a violation of cynker guild law. And short of any other law in the slums, our rules are sacrosanct. So either, the medic knowingly broke our laws—putting his life and his entire little project out here in the deadlands were he's permitted a certain degree of freedom – or someone else did so. Perhaps someone who didn't know better, who didn't realize the importance of playing well with others. Something like that the guild might be able to overlook."
Imogen looked around her, wishing she were more like Verity, able to fight and defend herself. She wished she were strong enough to defend Enver. She owed him everything, her newfound confidence, her freedom, her heart were all thanks to his kindness. The least she could do was defend the one thing he loved most in this world.
"I confess, I fixed the cyborg. I didn't even realize there was a guild of cynkers until afterwards. I just wanted to help him."
Enver's shoulders slumped as he stared at her.
"I see, so we have a little cynker in training. Now the proper channels should have been used, however, the repair work is quite impressive. Perhaps I will take you in as an intern, that way you can work off the fines you now owe for working as an unlicensed cynker in Cyn City limits." The man's smirk grew wider, and Imogen shivered.
"I'll pay the fines. Even if it means closing down the Ward, I'll pay them before I'll let you take her." Enver pushed himself up, struggling to stand, and before he made it all the way to his feet, one of the bodyguards delivered a punch to the face that sent him reeling back, crashing against their cyborg patient.
"Oh no, my friend," the cynker said. “This is not a debt that can be paid off on another's behalf. It's essential that my new intern learns the consequences of her actions."
Imogen shook, her body unable to stop the tremors that ran through her limbs. The two muscle packed bodyguards approached her and in the distance she heard Enver scream for her to run.
Her feet were frozen in place, the intensity of her fear blocking out all rational thought. When the men had her in their grasp, the cynker slithered up in front of her and reached out to touch her face. Animal instinct took over, and she snapped him with her teeth biting his finger and breaking the skin.
"Bitch!" he reared back and slapped her across the face, sending her careening into the side of one of the men holding her. Black dots flashed in her eyes, and her brain rattled around in her skull bouncing off the bone with agony.
"That's enough," a loud voice boomed from the door of the Ward.
The cynker backed up and sneered, but when his face fell, the bodyguards gripping her released their hold.
She rushed to Enver’s side not sure whether she intended to comfort him or seek reassurance for herself.
At the entrance to the Ward stood a dark-haired cyborg with a stubble of beard and jade green eyes that pierced through the dim morning light. His shoulders were broad, and he stood almost as tall as the door’s opening.
"Roland, we discussed the shit before. I shouldn't be showing up places to check on a friend only to find you here threatening women." The intimidating cyborg said.
Roland’s neck moved like a snake searching for an exit, and even the bodyguards took on a more submissive posture. "Taking care of some guild business. Got nothing to do with Cyn City PD." Roland’s eyes shifted back and forth.
"Hey, nice to see you Mason. Thanks for stopping by," Enver called out in his friendliest voice before spitting blood on the floor.
"Sounds like good timing," Mason replied.
"We'll just be on our way," Roland said slinking to the side and approaching Mason.
Before he could get away, Mason placed a hand on the small man's shoulder.
"I assume this is the end of this conversation and whatever guild business you had here is settled."
Roland sneered up at him. "Unguilded cynkers are not permitted."
"Then maybe someone needs an application," Mason said, the gears in his cybernetic arm whirling, as he tightened his grip on the smaller man.
Roland winced and glanced over his shoulder at Imogen.
"Yeah, we’ll take care of that. I'll let you know the dues."
Mason narrowed his eyes at the slimy man. "Monetary dues I presume, with a discount for her trouble."
Roland nodded and scurried away, his bodyguards following close behind.
"Now what's this Chance was telling me about the lady who might be in need of a little assistance. You know the Cyn City PD motto, serve and protect, baby." Mason broke out a bright smile full of white teeth.
Imogen relaxed, comforted to know Enver had powerful friends, as he and Enver chatted about Amanda’s situation.
Enver led Mason over to meet Amanda, and Imogen approached the cyborg who had betrayed her. She stared down at him, waiting until he gathered the courage to meet her eyes.
"Why?" It was all she could think to say. He knew exactly what she meant, and there could be no mistake of the betrayal his behavior had been.
The cyborg closed his eyes, worry lines appearing at the corners. "I couldn't pay them. With the layoffs at the deluge, I couldn't meet my quota. They threatened to take my legs, strip me for parts to make up the difference." He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I have people who rely on me. I had to do something, and they told me someone out here was breaking the law, that they were just trying to find a criminal. I had no idea this would happen. I swear."
"You mean you let them do that to your leg?"
The cyborg's face sank with shame. "I had no choice, please believe me."
Imogen’s heart went cold. "There's always a choice."
If anyone knew that, it was her.
Chapter 16
Enver
After promising to help Amanda find some place to stay away from the ex who had put her in the Ward in the first place, Mason turned his sights on Enver.
"You gonna tell me what I just walked into?"
Enver glanced over at Imogen who appeared to be deep in discussion with the cyborg who had clearly set them up with the cynkers. "The girl has been working here as a nurse and seems to have a natural bent toward cybernetics. She’s got no training other than as a midwife, but she's a natural cynker. Seems the guild was trying to set me up, get proof I wasn't reporting all the cyborgs I treated to them." He shook his head. “Just bad timing and bad luck. She just wanted to help."
Mason followed Enver's gaze. "She's not hard on the eyes either, is she?"
Ever beheld the large cyborg standing next to him. Mason was more the kind of man people expected to encounter when they heard the word cyborg. Large, muscled, and intimidating. He had a few inches on Enver vertically and even more horizontally. An instinctual growl burst from Enver's chest. After the night he and Imogen had shared together, he didn't want Mason moving in.
Mason eyes widened, and he chuckled. "Now that's the closest thing to an emotional response I've ever seen come out of you, Enver. Don't worry, I'll keep my distance."
Enver tried to shrug it off but in the end simply nodded.
"I’ve got to ask though, if you care about the girl, why didn't you fight back?"
"Nothing good ever comes from fighting."
"Says the cyborg with the military background. You know as well as I do sometimes fighting is the only option."
Enver shook his head. "Not for me."
Mason shrugged and clapped Enver on the shoulder. “Well, I better get this girl out of here. Sounds to me like you’ve been taking a lot of unnecessary risks, but gotta do what you think is right, brother."
Enver winced even from the relatively gentle touch.
"You might want to have your girl take care of any injuries you got. Maybe play a game of doctor." Mason chuckled and strode away, back to business.
Enver sat and stared as Imogen gave the cyborg an earful for having set them up. She presented as so easy going and compliant, but over the last few days, he’d learned there was a ferocity to her he wasn't sure even she had expected. It stirred something in his chest— something unfamiliar but not completely unwelcome.
Imogen left the cyborg defeated and dejected. When she reached Enver, her expression was inscrutable.
"Are you okay?" they asked the same time.
Enver waved off her question and stared until she spoke.
"What is wrong with you?" She demanded. Her pale cheeks flushed, as words spilled from her lips. “Are you out of your cyber-charged mind? What were you thinking taking the blame for something I did?"
Enver shrugged and leaned against the door to his office.
Imogen placed her hands on her hips, the thin shirt she wore hiding no secrets.
He remembered the soft skin of her breasts beneath his hands and desire stirred within him.
When she stared at him, clearly refusing to take his non-answer, Enver forced himself to speak. "There's no fighting with the guild. And if you fight, there’s certainly no winning. I might have been able to take on that set, but others would come back. They know me, and for the most part, they need me. All they’re trained to do is take things apart and put them back together. Sometimes even cynkers need a real doctor. They wouldn't have hurt me much."
"That’s not the point.” Imogen glared at him, and tears rose to her eyes.
A pang of remorse shot through him as he read at the sorrow on her face. But what else could he have done? Let them take her?
"They were here for me. I could've shown him I’m good at this. I could have trained with them, and proven I hadn't done anything wrong."
Enver shook his head. "You don't understand, when Roland said he was going to take you as an intern, that wasn't some kind of nicety. If you were really lucky, he’d strip you for parts. Super lucky and he might even replace them with cybernetics, so you owed him until they were paid off. But more than likely, you wouldn’t even get that far. If you’d gone with them, you would have been dead before you got out of the badlands. Best case scenario, they’d kill you before they raped you."
Imogen recoiled, fear disgust and anger warred across her face. "What kind of people—"
"Remember all those horror stories you heard about cyborgs growing up? Some of them are true. Some of the fear you came here with is warranted. I couldn't let anything happen to you." He reached out a hand and ran it down the side of her face. She turned her head into the caress, as tears came up to her eyes.
"But why didn't you fight back?”
Enver stared at her for a moment, debating how much he wanted to reveal. Standing here in the Ward, rows of beds either housing patients or waiting to be filled wasn’t the right place to explain what happened when he fought back. "There were two of them, one of me."
Imogen glared. "You still could have fought back. I know how strong you are. You think you hide it, but even without the cybernetics, you're stronger than anyone else I've seen here. I've seen Chance, and I saw the fights the other night. I know that if you fought you could win, but you'd rather just give up."
Her compassion turned to fury, and before he knew it, she pulled away. Her hands bunched into the tiny little fists that made Enver want to laugh and pull her against his chest. He had a feeling that making her angrier wasn't going to solve anything.
He took a step forward, and as he did, he stumbled slightly, barely catching himself on the edge of the closest cot before falling.
Imogen frowned and took his elbow.
"See, you’re hurt. This is ridiculous. Come with me." She took his metal arm in her firm grip and dragged him through the Ward.
Everyone's eyes were on him, but he ignored them for the moment, enjoying the warmth of her touch even if the fire came from her anger.
Enver allowed himself to be dragged out of the Ward, passed the row of staring eyes. He could only imagine how ridiculous he appeared to the patients who had come to see him as very much the one in charge. Instead, now an angry petite blonde with hair sticking out in every direction dragged him forcibly out of the room. It would've been funny if he weren’t so sick with the words swirling in his stomach.
Upstairs, Imogen sat him on his bed and pointed a finger in his face with a scowl, telling him to stay put before leaving him alone in his room.
The temptation to laugh at her bossiness grew with each passing moment, but getting her angrier would only make this entire situation worse for him. Imogen was a force to be reckoned with when she was happy. He wasn't particularly excited about being in the position of having her displeasure focused in his direction.
When she returned, she had a damp washcloth in her hand and a determined expression on her face. Without a word, she stripped his shirt up over his head, sending a shiver across his flesh. She wiped away the blood that had dried on his cheek and then inspected his chest and stomach for injuries.
Her hands glancing across his skin was almost more than he
could bear. He wanted to grab her and roll her beneath him on the bed that still smelled like passion from the night they'd spent together, but one look at her face stopped him.
When Imogen was satisfied with her inspection, she sighed and sat next to him on the bed, the washcloth still clutched between her hands. "You seem to have survived mostly intact," she said staring at the wall in front of them.
"I survived completely intact. You need to stop worrying." He reached for her, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and tried to pull her against his side but she resisted, her body refusing to yield. "I'm fine." He insisted.
"That's not the point," she whispered turning to him.
She blinked away the tears that rose in her eyes, and Enver's chest crushed inwardly threatening to implode and reduce his hearts to the size of pebble.
"That's not the point. Why do you have to be so difficult?" She said in a rush.
"Me? Difficult? I'm fine. You checked me yourself. I'm not that injured. A day or two and I won't even have a bruise. I can take a worse beating then Roland can dish out, trust me."
She gazed up at him, her light eyelashes sparkling with tears. "I do, I do trust you. That's the problem. Do you have any idea what it would do to me to lose you? How could you let them hurt you? how could you not fight back when you know how much I need you?"
Enver sucked in a breath. She needed him. Not she worried about him, not she didn't like the idea of anyone getting hurt, but she needed him. And in that moment, he knew exactly how unworthy he was of those words. He pulled away slightly, willing his heart to shutter against her words. But before he could get far, she lunged forward, wrapping both arms around his middle, a sob breaking from her chest.
"I have seen horrible things. I have suffered horrible things. And it wasn't until I came here that I realized those things didn't matter. The person I thought I was never existed, and I could have never become the real me without meeting you.” She squeezed tighter, and Enver held in a groan as she crushed his middle where Roland 's thugs had delivered their blows. “I don't know why you can't see it,” she whispered against his skin.