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I nodded jerkily, like something was suddenly wrong with one of my mechanisms. “I know. I meant she … she left me behind.”
Mom’s broken body appeared behind my eyes. I saw her sinking into the depths of the Potomac, and her voice echoed in my ears.
Find Richard Grady … he knows …
Her last words, right before one of Holland’s bullets killed her.
Holland. Just the name ignited a fiery, churning hatred within my core.
My fingertips had been sliding down the smooth glass, but now they pushed harder, full of pent-up frustration. The window creaked in protest, and I hastily yanked my hand away.
“So does this Grady guy live in Virginia?” Hunter asked. “Is that why you’re here?”
“I thought he was. I’d found some information, but it turned out to be a dead end.”
Please don’t ask me any more questions. I don’t know how many more lies I can tell you.
My back still to him, I said, “Anyway, thank you so much for coming. The thought of continuing to do this on my own … it just … thank you.”
I heard the bed creak, heard his soft footfalls. I spun around to face Hunter. His soulful eyes, filled with compassion and understanding, nearly had me confessing everything. In this moment, I wanted to believe he could accept what I was, but in the likelihood that he couldn’t, the dangers to me would increase. Again I tried to reassure myself that my lies offered him a shield of protection as well. He couldn’t reveal what he didn’t know.
“Any time,” he said gently. “I could tell when you called that something bad had happened. I can’t believe she went to Germany without you. Who does that?”
“Well, I can meet her there, if I want to, but I’m not sure if I do,” I said, hoping to salvage some sliver of Hunter’s respect for my mom. “I know being adopted isn’t the end of the world, but I have a right to meet my real father, and she just didn’t see it that way.”
“I don’t blame you for wanting to find him. It sucks that your mom never told you the truth.” Then he cocked his head, like he was noticing something strange.
“What?” I demanded, inwardly panicking. Had he seen me crack the windowsill?
“Nothing. It’s just—don’t be mad, but based on how jumpy you’ve been, I was sort of expecting something a little crazier. Like your mom was abducted by aliens.”
I stared at him incredulously for a moment, before losing it. “I can’t even—” I gasped, trying to talk through the laughter and failing.
“What can I say? I had a crush on Scully from The X-Files growing up.”
The ball of tension that hadn’t left my gut since I’d been on the run was beginning to disintegrate. “You hide it well, Hunter Lowe, but you are a total nerd.”
His eyes suddenly filled with shock, and he glanced toward the window. I was on instant alert again. “What?” I said, listening intently, pulse starting to pound in my ears.
No human threat detected.
A car, a group of kids in the distance, the faint rumble of the ocean. Nothing of concern.
“Shhh, be careful how loud you say that. I don’t want my secret getting out.”
I groaned. “Hate to tell you, but it’s too late for that.”
“Those are fighting words.” With a mischievous smile, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me toward him, whirling me around at the last second until my back was pressed firmly against his chest. One of his arms wrapped loosely around my neck, the other around my waist.
I stiffened at first—hello, there was a cute boy pressed against me—but then the sensation of belonging coursed through me, too potent to resist. I closed my eyes, savoring the solid feel of his body. This … this was exactly what I needed. Hunter was exactly what I needed.
“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t leave you behind. I’ll be with you every step of the way, if you let me.”
Hearing him say that, I didn’t think I could ever feel so amazing and awful at the same time.
“We should probably get some sleep, since we’ll be on the road tomorrow,” I said.
I slipped under the covers of my bed and despite everything, I was completely conscious that he was climbing into the next bed over. Heat fanned itself through my arms and legs, a feeling that I was pretty sure had nothing to do with the slight weight of the frayed blue comforter.
“Good night, Mila.”
“Good night.”
I clicked off the light and willed my body to relax in the darkened room.
Night vision: Activated.
With the help of one of my android functions, everything blazed back into view. Ugh, so not helping. Meanwhile, Hunter’s breathing turned rhythmic and slow and for the first time I could remember, I envied him.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Take that, stupid night vision. But the blackness only sent my tension skyrocketing. Because instead of seeing our motel room, now I was remembering a different one. The last time I’d stayed in a motel, Mom and I had been woken in the middle of the night by scouts from the Vita Obscura, an organization that wanted to gut me like a fish to see how I worked—and then sell my technology to the highest bidder. We escaped, but who was to say it couldn’t happen again?
A perfect image burst into my head. Mom tackling one of the men, binding his hands with a zip tie. Mom, back at Clearwater Ranch, her long blond hair pulled back into a practical ponytail as she headed to the barn.
Mom, staring at me as the light in her blue eyes faded.
A sob unfurled and I put a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle it. No good. The other bed creaked. I heard Hunter’s bare feet pad onto the carpet, and then a moment later his arms surrounded me.
I went rigid at first—I’d never been in bed with a boy or been held this tightly before—but as he whispered, “Shhhh, it’s going to be okay,” I gradually snuggled against him.
My back fit against his chest so perfectly, and oh god, he was so warm. I could feel his breath ruffling my hair. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to turn over and be face-to-face, to feel his lips graze mine.
I lay silently for a moment, summoning up the courage to do just that. Minutes passed and after a while, his body felt heavy against mine. Had he fallen asleep again?
A whirring in my brain, and then the red lights flashed:
Pulse: 48 bpm.
Breathing rate: 8 bpm.
Sleep state: Likely.
Leave it to my android functions to remind me that really, truly being with Hunter was something that would never be possible.
After ten minutes of lying there, motionless, I eased myself out from under his right arm, my body freezing when his breathing altered. But it evened out again, so I slipped to my feet, feeling his fingertips slide against my arm before falling away, the loss of physical contact both freeing and terrifying at the same time. A sharp pang almost made me climb back in and nestle up against him.
But the strange room, the noises, even Hunter’s presence—everything was foreign and the ghost of the past still hung over me. Sadness, anger, fear … a whirlwind of emotions threatened to consume me, and a giant android self-implosion was about the last thing I wanted to foist onto Hunter right now.
Grabbing the key from the bureau, I put on my shoes and crept to the door.
Sometimes, when my feelings overwhelmed me, I wondered if I shouldn’t try to emulate Three, just a little. My android twin never struggled with terror—or fear—or the heartbreaking pain that made your phantom heart feel like it might crumble to pieces.
Sometimes, when the agony of Mom’s loss felt like someone had picked up a saw and excised the most important part of me, I wondered if maybe Three was onto something.
Then I pictured Hunter’s sleeping face and the thought slowly disappeared.
(#ulink_bbbf4244-9c93-55d5-9d47-cf6dd830e2fd)
Where are you going?”
My hand was on the doorknob when I heard Hunter’s voice, a little roughened by the bit of rest he’d had. A part of me wanted to stay here with him, but everything was closing in on me. I needed to get out of this motel room.
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d take a walk, tire myself out.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Mila, it’s late. I’m not letting you go out there by yourself.”
His protectiveness touched something deep inside me. If there were any dangers out there, I was better equipped to handle them, but he didn’t know that.
“Besides,” he added, “you still owe me a date.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Our little trip to the carnival a few weeks ago had been met with continual interruptions, including horrific memories of a past I didn’t know existed. As much as I wanted to be alone, I also hoped maybe this time our date would be normal.
I heard him tying his shoes, tugging at the laces hard, and then his soft footfalls as he approached. I opened the door and stepped out.
I gulped down huge breaths of salty humid air—useless, since my lungs weren’t really lungs, though I seemed to have a hard time remembering that. Not many pedestrians were out at this hour. Weeknight, off-season.
Hunter shut the door behind us and tested to make sure it was locked. Then he stepped up beside me and threaded his fingers through mine. “Let’s head down to the boardwalk.”
As we walked along, a little orange dot blinked on a map before me, showing my trajectory and every street option nearby. I was thankful that my internal GPS system had finally kicked in again after conking out for a while post-escape. Not that I needed the GPS right now. Hunter was guiding me.
We reached the boardwalk. The fragrance of the salt air seemed heavier, and a cool breeze surged off the ocean, whipping my hair in periodic bursts. An almost-full moon dominated the sky, lighting patches of inky water with a soft, silvery glow.
“Thank you for coming out here with me.”
Turning his head slightly, he met my gaze. “That’s why I’m here.”
As if summoned by his sincerity, the truth bubbled up in my throat. Right here, right now. I could end the subterfuge. I wanted to. Desperately.
I glanced back out at the ocean, at the secrets churning underwater, and the moment passed.
“What about school?” I asked.
He tipped his head to the side. “Fall break. We have a week before we have to be back. Not a lot of time to find your dad, but enough maybe.”
Maybe, and if not, I couldn’t ask him to flunk out because of me. But the thought of moving forward with no one to turn to—
“Hey, you’re shivering,” he said.
“Little cooler than I expected it to be out here.” Another lie.
In a gesture as natural as breathing, he slipped his arm around my shoulders, brought me in against his side. I put one arm around his back.
Suddenly, everything seemed so very … effortless.
We continued on down the boardwalk, the planks reverberating and echoing our footsteps. I could see the stationary Ferris wheel again.
“Shame the amusement park is closed,” he said.
“I don’t know. Our last date at the carnival didn’t turn out so good.” It had been going well—up until I recalled torture inflicted at General Holland’s hands.
A devious grin crawled across his face. All of a sudden, he removed his arm from around my shoulder, closed his hand tightly around mine, and started jogging down the boardwalk toward the amusement park. I was able to keep up easily, could have outraced him, but all I wanted was to stay near him.
It seemed there were even fewer people now than when we first stepped out of the hotel. Only an occasional straggler. Hunter slowed down, glanced around, then walked past the entrance and continued on down the street, taking a turn down a dark path that seemed meant for special personnel.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“Finishing our date from before.”
We stopped. I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Just hold on.” He released his hold on me and began examining the wire fence in front of us. “Here,” he finally said. “I think we can get in here.”
“We’re going to break in?”
He shrugged.
“It’s illegal.”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen? They’ll kick us out. It’s not like we’re stealing, or damaging property.”
True. At least, that was the worst thing that could happen to him. He didn’t have my baggage with the law.
I chewed my lip. Even so, he had a point. If we were caught, surely they wouldn’t haul us in. But I didn’t know how far of a reach General Holland might have right now. Had he alerted authorities? Or had he hired some sketchy PI to track me down?
This seemed too risky. Until my sensors proved otherwise.
Search radius: 100 yards.
Human targets: Zero.
No threat detected.
Even so, I felt nervous.
“Look, if someone comes, you can tell them I coerced you.” Hunter bent down and intertwined his hands, providing me with a stepping place so he could vault me over the fence.
