My Cyborg Savior (Crimson Romance)
Page 3
“Computer, is the autopilot still set to the Haven District?”
“Affirmative.”
“Good. Shut down all access to the piloting array until I say otherwise.”
“Complete.”
Galen stomped into the ship and the doors automatically closed behind him. “Computer, get those back open.”
“Unable to comply, this shuttle is leaving the bay. The doors must stay closed. It is recommended that all occupants sit down and strap in.”
Jamila grinned at him. “I’d do what the lady says. Liftoff in these old shuttles can be a bit rocky, but I think they’re more reliable than the newer models. That old saying ‘They don’t make ’em like they used to’ definitely applies.”
“Computer, override the launch sequence.”
“Unable to comply. Autopilot is set. The piloting array is offline until Jamila Christianna Clearborne reinitializes it.”
Galen glared at Jamila like he was tempted to walk over and strangle her. “Dammit! Unlock the system, princess.”
“Nope. I have something I have to do, and I intend to do it. I don’t have a problem with you coming along for the ride. So sit down because — ”
“Liftoff.”
The force of the launch sent Galen tumbling to the back of the ship. He hit the doors with a loud clang and she flinched. If his boot could dent the hull, what could his whole body hitting the doors do? Luckily, they didn’t fly open.
He groaned and rubbed the back of his head and she smirked at him. “Aren’t you glad the doors close automatically for launch? You would have hit the floor of the bay awfully hard. Even your thick skull would have been damaged.”
He stood, and clenched and released his fists a few times before he stomped toward her. She realized she had one pissed off man on her hands a second too late. He hit the release on her harness, grabbed her upper arms, and hauled her out of the seat.
“Well, at least this gives us a chance to chat. From now on, you’re going to do as I say. I don’t want to die doing this job. I know you’re a little bitch, and you probably don’t care what happens to me, but I’d like to keep breathing.”
“I go out all the — ”
“Don’t interrupt me,” he shouted over her. “I don’t care what you normally do. I’m responsible for you now, and your father said to keep you out of trouble.”
“I’m twenty-four. I don’t need my daddy telling me what to do. I’m a grown woman.”
“Then get a fucking job and leave so he can’t boss you around anymore. Until then you’re my problem.”
He dropped her back into the chair and raked a hand through his hair. His words stung, even though they shouldn’t. She didn’t know him at all. It shouldn’t matter if he thought she was his obligation and a spoiled little bitch. She was always someone’s problem. Her father had just decided to pass his dilemma off to someone else.
She faced the console and checked the readouts for anything strange. He had kicked the shuttle and crashed into the doors, after all.
“Turn us around, Jamila.”
She rolled her eyes but refused to look at him. “Nope.”
• • •
Somehow Galen said something that upset her. He wasn’t sure what part. Probably the bitch part. He was sure no one had ever dared call her a bitch before. He sighed in frustration. Keeping one little slip of a woman out of trouble shouldn’t be this difficult. Didn’t she realize the danger she was in? Apparently not, since the computer silently told him they were headed for the Haven District and probably the Forbidden District next to it, where her father was incredibly disliked. There had been riots on the streets over his possible reelection. To top it off, that was a dangerous area for anyone ever. It was violent on a daily basis, and not just because of recent riots. There were gangs, thieves, rapists, and murderers. And then a normal class of people who were down on their luck, and had to steal to keep food in their families’ mouths.
He knew how dangerous it could be. He’d grown up in a place exactly like it. Everyone was doing something nefarious. There was a fine line between good and bad when your children were starving, and you couldn’t get medical care for them. Life was hard. And when you put the daughter of the people’s greatest enemy at their fingertips? Eventually Jamila’s luck would run out.
But why would she go to the Haven District? Was she even allowed entrance? Some people were, but that was usually workers who had to pass through to get to their jobs.
Unfortunately, he had no choice but to go along. The computer wasn’t recognizing his commands. He’d been silently trying to take the system back with his implants and it wasn’t working. Well, he could keep her alive for one evening out. Her father was crazy if he thought he could keep her indoors all the time. However, Galen would have to try and keep her in the districts she was allowed in. Shopping and upscale clubs, not the rank bars her file said she frequented in Forbidden.
Why did she like going there, anyway? The bars she went to were likely holes in the wall and dirtier than a sewer. Plus, you could only get poor people drugs there. Surely she stuck to the prescription stuff. That had been her mother’s downfall. But then, maybe she wanted to do anything to make her daddy crazy.
She still hadn’t glanced at him. He sighed again and sat down. He didn’t strap in quite yet. He’d been caught off guard when they’d taken off; he’d been too focused on her. This poor little ship wouldn’t knock him on his ass if he were paying attention.
He rolled his shoulders. The silence was uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant to upset her. He should have chosen his words more carefully. She already exhibited all the symptoms of depression. She lay in bed till all hours of the day, but she didn’t sleep — instead she stared blankly at the ceiling. It was how he’d found her this morning, probably how she’d been when her father had called her to him to inspect the slaves. And even though she’d read most of the afternoon, he had caught her staring into space a few times.
Her file said she’d found her mother after she’d committed suicide. That must have done something to her. Before that she’d supposedly been the model of the perfect daughter, on her way to a high powered government job. She’d had her pick of colleges if she’d chosen to go. But he noticed she never smiled. In those pictures before her mother’s suicide, she was as stoic as her father. After, at least she’d pretended to smile. Even if it never reached her eyes. In fact, he couldn’t recall a single picture in her file where her smile lit her face. It was all pretend. He felt sorry for her. In spite of having a shit life, at least he’d had some happiness, before the government took it all away. Since then, all he’d seen was blood and death and a corrupt system that now wanted him, and everyone like him — those cyborgs they couldn’t control — dead.
He took a deep breath. That’s right. Remember why you’re here. Don’t get sucked into this girl’s problems. You have your own. You’re trying to save lives. Ignore her.
But he couldn’t. Not entirely. “What did I say to upset you? I expected you to get pissed and even with me, not sulk.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. There was a flash of fire in her eyes and he couldn’t fight down a surge of triumph. He couldn’t stand it when he could cow people. He wanted her to fight back, even if it made his job that much harder. In spite of cyborgs being designed to subjugate people, they seemed to prefer it when people argued and fought back. Part of them always looked for a challenge — especially when it came to potential mate. Only people with fire would be any fun. It was probably more basic than that. Only tough women would create strong children. He restrained a growl. Dammit, he wasn’t looking for a mate. He wasn’t willing to risk his dick to possess her. She was needed to achieve their goals. That was all.
“I’m always an obligation for my father, but I don’t give a damn what you think of me, Galen. I’m your j
ob. It’s your job to protect me. I’m the only thing you have to worry about aside from dying if you fail. I happen to have a life, and I intend to keep on living it no matter what you say or think. I’m not your problem. You might even earn your freedom if you’ll stop bitching and keep me alive. Now shut up. I’d like to spend the rest of this journey in peace.” She spat at him.
He arched an eyebrow as she buckled her harness, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. So it hadn’t been the bitch comment. Her outburst brought half a dozen questions to his mind. “Has your father really called you a burden?”
She frowned, but didn’t open her eyes. “Yes. Many times. Me and Mother both. We weren’t proper enough. No matter what my mother did, she couldn’t please him. She had darker skin, and spoke with an accent she couldn’t shake. She was born on Earth, you know? In a place they used to call Turkey. War destroyed all governments on Earth, but she’d still point out her country on an old map. She always said she would love to show me the ancient architecture. Some ruins still stand from those times. Or at least they were standing last time she was there. But I’ll never see it. Earth is too dangerous now. And because of my father’s constant complaining, she’ll never see it again either.”
Galen examined her. She still hadn’t opened her eyes. In fact, they were squeezed tight. “You blame him for your mother’s suicide.” It was a statement, not a question. He could tell by her bitter tone.
“Of course I blame him. If she hadn’t been such a ‘burden’ to him, with her thick accent and her different ways, she might have wanted to keep living. If he’d stood by her while the media judged her, she might have felt wanted. Apparently, the love of a daughter isn’t enough. She needed her husband, and he failed her.”
And she’d failed Jamila. That was how Galen saw it, anyway. She’d been weak, and left her daughter to endure a man who would never think she was good enough.
“And what does your father think of you?”
“My grades were never good enough. I was the highest ranking student at my boarding school, in all fields of study. But because I wasn’t highest on the planet, he said I could still do better. I didn’t get accepted to the one school he wanted me to go to. He hated that I did art. I danced, and drew. My mother said I was the best painter she’d seen, after her own father, and that one day I would surpass even him. And of course there are my looks. I’m too tall, too curvy and I’m the image of my mother with the exception of his ice blue eyes. And now? I will never do anything right ever again. Oh, I could turn my behavior around, but it would never fix me in his eyes.”
Jamila was beautiful to him. How anyone could find her exotic appearance appalling was beyond him. “You said you did art? Past tense?”
“Yes. After I found her there was no beauty left in the world. I haven’t bothered since. I haven’t even felt the urge. When I go out to a club I go to drink, and have sex. I’ve danced a few times, but nothing like what I would do artistically.”
There was a twinge in his chest. He felt sorry for this gorgeous, spoiled creature. A gilded cage. That was what she lived in. She couldn’t be who her father wanted her to be. She couldn’t go on being who her mother had wanted her to be. So she did what she could to piss off the last parent she had. She was a twenty-four-year-old woman going through a sixteen-year-old’s rebellion. It should have sickened him, but she had her reasons.
“Oh, and Galen? That comment earlier about getting a job and moving away? I’m not allowed. The voters wouldn’t like their senator’s daughter working. Only the rich, well-bred families vote. My working would mean he doesn’t make enough money to keep me in luxury. Besides, I’m supposed to marry, and produce children. A mother can’t work. We’ve surpassed the age of space travel and gone right back to the fucking Dark Ages.”
She was right, of course. Most well-bred women, though educated, still didn’t have careers because everyone would assume their husbands couldn’t keep them. Society saw no personal fulfillment in a woman having a career. She would never get out from under her father’s thumb unless she married, and then she’d be oppressed by a husband. Some lily white dandy who was daintier than her. A man who wouldn’t be fit to spit polish her shoes. Maybe Galen was doing her a favor. He almost laughed. She certainly wouldn’t see it that way when all was said and done.
She finally opened her eyes and glanced his way. Her eyes were shiny, but no tears had escaped to spill down her cheeks. “Why am I telling you all this?”
He shrugged. “Maybe because I was the first person to ask.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, no one has ever wanted to know anything about me. Most of my friends like me for my money, and enjoy pissing off their parents at least as much as I enjoy annoying my father.”
He smiled. “Or maybe I made you so angry, you were willing to talk about anything to keep me quiet.” It was bullshit. If angering her had any effect, it got her to drop her guard. He had a lot of information on her now. Information he’d probably use to hurt her. He hoped he would never have to.
She batted her lashes at him. “Well, Galen, we’ve talked so much about me. What about you? What deep, dark, tortured past lurks behind those blue peepers? What are your secrets?”
Galen shook his head. If she knew all the things he kept from her, she’d have him executed, along with the rest of his people. But could he reveal a small part of his past without giving her enough to get himself killed? Maybe. He hadn’t shared it with many people. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about. He considered his options. Her gaze seemed to plead with him to share something. She was vulnerable right now. She needed to connect. Maybe if he gave her something small, she would feel closer to him. It might make his job easier. Both his slavery and his actual mission.
He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. In reality the wounds he was about to reveal were nowhere near healed. And every moment he spent on this mission made them that much more raw.
“There isn’t much to tell. I was in the military. When I came back, my wife claimed I’d changed, and it wasn’t for the better. She left me. Took our daughter with her. I abandoned my post to search for them, and later was taken captive by the slave trader when I was caught stealing food in a district a lot like Forbidden. He knew I would make him good money. Granted, he was only supposed to deal cyborgs the government was willing to part with. He broke the law by selling me.”
About eighty percent of that was a lie. She’d never notice. Cyborgs were the government’s dirty little secret. People knew they were created, but not for what purposes and against their will. He’d been trained to lie with almost no signs — only another one of his kind would have been able to tell that he was bullshitting. He hadn’t been in the military. He’d been trained by their government, and was better than your average soldier. He’d never looked for his wife until much later in life. He’d been kidnapped by people like him, and deprogrammed. He was a thief to be sure. Since his deprogramming, he’d stolen food, medical supplies, fuel, the government’s deep dark secrets they didn’t want anyone to know about … but it hadn’t landed him here. He’d deliberately placed himself with that slaver.
The only part he hadn’t twisted was his wife and daughter leaving him, and the reason why. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant when he’d been taken. She hadn’t gotten the nerve to tell him yet. Having a baby wasn’t a good thing. They couldn’t have gotten medical care for either of them, and it was another mouth to feed.
But it didn’t matter. He would never know his daughter and never had to take care of her. He hadn’t been worried about his wife once they’d fucked up his mind. He’d been changed, and when he was sent back to her, he’d been sickeningly loyal to the government. He’d also been aggressive, dominant, dangerous … He could see every little lie she told, and she’d held some pretty damning secrets of her own.
He shook himself. He didn’t want to dwell
on his wife leaving him. At the time, it hadn’t mattered. Nothing but serving the Federation of Planets had mattered. Now, thinking about it hurt. As soon as he’d been able to remember who he was, he’d been in physical pain from his loss. No matter how hard he’d tried, he never could find Amanda, or baby Charlise, who would be far from a child by now. At twenty-seven, she would look more like his sister than his daughter. He hadn’t aged since the government had accelerated his growth. None of them had. They didn’t know if it was a kind of immortality due to genetic alterations, or if one day their time would run out, and they were just being kept in fighting form.
“It sounds like you could add a lot more to that.” Jamila glanced at him.
“I’m sure you could add a lot more to the story of your mother’s suicide, but you aren’t going to. You can’t bear it. And I really don’t want to tell the story of how my shitty life managed to go down the toilet.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry about your wife and kid. I’ve only ever lost a mother. I can’t imagine losing a child, or the person I loved.”
He stared at her for a second. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was actually showing him compassion. It was sincere. It filled her eyes with a sad light, and the slight sheen of tears. Tears for him, a man she seemed to despise, and a woman and child she’d never met.
She laid her hand over his and squeezed.
He smiled politely, because he didn’t know what to do. “Thank you.”
Chapter Three
“Approaching destination.”
Jamila straightened and braced herself for the landing. “Strap in, Galen. I’d hate for you to hit that hard head of yours again.”
The little vessel dipped sharply as it came in for a landing. Nothing slow and controlled for this old beast. Maybe that was why she liked it. It was a little wild and dangerous. Something she admired in all things. Galen strapped himself in and gripped the arm rests until his knuckles turned white.