Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As per her usual evening routine, Lara showered—it was addicting, and she struggled to keep from doing it more than once a day—and walked downstairs. Ronin had already covered his part of the routine, having laid a variety of food out on the table for her to choose from.
Normally, they talked as she ate, but conversation didn’t come easily tonight. It wasn’t because of her dreams or their earlier argument. Her mind kept going back to what she’d seen in the mirror. To what she saw now, when she looked at her hands.
They were soft. Clean. Her skin had a healthy glow she’d never seen before, and her bones were a less prominent. The changes were subtle, but she couldn’t help noticing them. She ate two, sometimes three meals a day, and there were no more hunger pains.
Was Tabitha experiencing the same thing? Was that why she’d agreed to live with a bot? She deserved comfort, especially after all her years of selflessly caring for Lara.
I really was just a burden…
Guilt gnawed at Lara. No matter how hard she’d tried, it had never been enough.
Scavenging, bartering, dancing…she never earned her share.
How many times had she lied to Tabitha, claiming she wasn’t hungry, just so her sister had the extra portion?
And the one time Lara had stepped up, had broken out of her rut to provide for Tabitha…
“You’re quiet tonight,” Ronin said, his deep voice jarring Lara from her thoughts before they could take that dark turn. She looked up at him. He was sitting across from her, staring at the uneaten food on the table.
“Just thinking,” Lara said, picking at a piece of meat. She took a small bite.
“You normally verbalize your thoughts without restraint. Why is tonight different?”
Because she felt…subdued, useless, weak. And he’d hammered her reality home earlier.
But we both know there’s nothing waiting for you back there. No one to go home to.
Ronin had been right. She had nothing, had no one. Even Gary and Kate had turned her away. Lara wouldn’t be surprised if someone had already taken over her shack, if there was a stranger sleeping on her pallet, living in the space she and Tabitha had called home.
There was nothing to return to.
“Because I feel,” she said. “And, right now, I don’t feel like talking.”
“Are you implying that I don’t feel?”
“You’re smart. Figure it out.”
While she stared at the food in front of her, chewing slowly and tasting little, he was quiet. What the hell would a bot know about any of it, anyway? They lived in luxury, with conveniences they didn’t even need, oblivious to the squalor of everyday human life.
“We’ll find Tabitha, Lara.”
Lara looked up at Ronin with wide eyes. Was he…comforting her? She’d accused him of not feeling, but she knew that was wrong. How many times had he expressed some form of emotion to her? Anger, joy, curiosity, and now concern.
But how could bots feel? They were machines. Hunks of metal and parts. They didn’t have brains, or hearts, or any organs at all.
“You promise?” Lara asked, despite herself.
“I…give you my word that I will do everything I can.”
She sighed, dropping her gaze. “Guess that’s all I can ask for.”
The silence that settled between them was as big and imposing as the wall around the bot district. Growing up, she’d never thought it was possible for a person to lose their appetite—how could you, when there was never enough to eat?—but the food in front of her had suddenly lost its appeal.
Lara wrapped the leftovers and stood, walking to the refrigerator to place them inside. Another wonder of life amongst bots. Food could be stored in this big box, and it would keep fresh for days.
“Guess I’ll get to it…” Gripping the fridge handle, she looked at Ronin over her shoulder. “Since you’re going to be gone for a few days and all.”
His face went blank, and it seemed he was about to say something. Maybe that it was all right, that she didn’t have to dance for him tonight because she was distressed and tired. Or that, since he’d touched her and broken his word, it was okay for Lara to break hers tonight.
Instead, he pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded.
So Lara danced, as she had every night after her first in this house. Her movements were stiff, her limbs heavy, her steps clumsy. She was numb, her mind elsewhere.
To make it worse, Ronin sat motionless as he watched, conveying no enjoyment. He looked bored or disinterested, no different than the other times.
As she neared the table, Lara spun and slammed her fists atop it.
“What is the fucking point of this?” she screamed, breath ragged.
He kept his eyes locked with hers, moving only to angle his head up slightly. “We made an arrangement.”
“Who cares about the arrangement? I want to know why. You watch and watch, and for what? It’s like I’m dancing for a freaking wall!”
“Because I want to understand. I watch you dance, and it fascinates me because I’ve never seen anything like it.
I know all the muscles and bones that enable your movement, understand the scientific laws that dictate your momentum and balance.
There should be no mystery. But when you dance, when you truly dance, I can’t look away. ”
“You wanna know the big fucking secret?” She leaned over the table, closing the distance between them until their faces were but a few inches apart. “It’s called being alive.”
His eyebrows angled down, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw bulged, all so subtly that she might have imagined it. But those tiny changes in his expression warned her.
She backed away from the table.
When Ronin moved, it was fast. His chair fell backward as he stood, and with an almost casual sweep of his arm, he batted the table away, knocking it onto its side with a crash. The gap between them shrank with his relentless advance.
Warlord’s scarred face flashed in her mind. This was close to the way he’d moved that night.
Lara’s heart stuttered. She scurried around the counter, desperate to put something solid between them.
For a terrifying moment, she was convinced he’d smash his way straight through it.
She turned away, dropped into a crouch, and raised her arms over her head to shield herself from the coming punishment.
Hadn’t she learned anything? Why couldn’t she just shut her mouth and dance? It didn’t matter if he enjoyed it. As long as he fed her, why should she care?
“Does a thing have to be flesh and blood to be alive?” Ronin demanded, voice low and brimming with anger. “Do humans own that term, that they get to define it?”
She risked a peek at him right as his fist came down on the countertop. The crack of breaking marble was thunderous. Lara stumbled back against the cabinet behind her, a small, frightened whimper escaping her throat as she covered her head once more.
“I think, I reason, I react to the world around me. I question what I know and see, and I wonder what the future might bring, though I know it won’t likely be different than the past. I hope!” His voice dwindled, becoming something raw. “I yearn.”
The aching loneliness in his voice made her breath catch and her chest constrict. His words echoed in her mind during the silence that followed them.
Slowly, Lara lowered her arms and peered up at him.
His back was to her, his head angled down as he stared at his hands.
He looked and had sounded more human than she ever would’ve thought possible.
No matter how many times she tried to convince herself he was just another bot, she knew, at heart, he was different from the gearheads. Different from Warlord.
Different from them all.
It would’ve been easy for Ronin to use his fists on her, to batter her flesh and break her bones. Warlord had. But Ronin didn’t so much as touch her. No, it had been her who’d hurt him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Such simple words, with such deep impact. He’d used them when he thought he’d hurt her.
How could I think he’s unfeeling?
Ronin turned his head toward her, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “I must depart tomorrow.”
Her stomach twisted, and a heavy weight dragged it down. Lara had caused this rift between them. She’d driven him away when he had tried so hard to please her.
“I…” He fell silent.
Lara’s heart pounded, and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears. Curling her fingers around the hem of her shirt, she clutched the fabric.
“I don’t want to leave with this between us,” Ronin said.
Everything stopped. His words hung in the air, and Lara couldn’t think. She stared at him as he turned fully toward her.
“The fault is mine. I thought your needs would be simple. That mine would be, too.” He shook his head, letting out a sound very close to a sorrowful sigh. “I’m learning. Forgive me, Lara Brooks.”
Placing a hand on the counter, Lara pulled herself to her feet. Her fear had vanished, leaving awe in its place. Learning. He was learning.
“I forgive you,” she said, taking a tentative step closer to him. “I…hope you can forgive me, too.”
“We both assumed understanding of one another, without considering what that really means.” He tipped his head down and ran a finger over a deep crack in the stone countertop. “I guess we really are made in the image of the Creators, if we share some of the same flaws.”
“I…I need you to understand.” Lara timidly eased around the counter. “My experiences with bots don’t put them in a good light for me, Ronin. Many of the ones I’ve dealt with wouldn’t have thought twice about doing that”—she pointed to the crack—”to me.”
She stopped in front of him, looking up at his face. “And no bot’s ever apologized to me. For anything.”
His eyes ran over her body, engulfing her in their depths. “You’ve known so few of us. The ones you’ve encountered are…an anomaly.”
“They were my reality. All the same…or worse.”
His gaze locked with hers. “What can I do, Lara, to make you happy tonight? To see you smile before I leave?”
Though his words caught her by surprise, they brought a smile to her lips. Tears filled her eyes. Ronin wanted her happy. Not just comfortable, not simply in good health so she could dance for him, but happy. No one besides Tabitha had ever cared about Lara’s feelings. No one until Ronin.
When her tears spilled down her cheeks, she released a small, embarrassed laugh.
“You’re turning me into such a sap,” she said, throat tight as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Ronin closed the short distance between them. Slowly, he raised a hand and cradled her jaw, brushing the moisture from her cheek with his thumb. Her heart quickened. His touch was so light, so gentle, that she couldn’t believe it was the same hand that shattered the counter.
Lara stood utterly still. Such tenderhearted contact was foreign to her, and yet, it felt…right. She knew he’d stop if she asked, knew that she could pull away and he wouldn’t pursue her. Instead, she smiled and leaned into his touch, pressing her cheek into his palm. It was warm.
It was real.
Ronin’s gaze softened. “I’ll come back as quickly as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”