CHAPTER 57
Evren
Help_Urself – Ezekiel / Ocean Eyes - Heaven, XO
My head slams into the wooden wall, splintering it around me. I hiss through my teeth at the pain, even with the pain dampeners.
Bracing my hands against the wall, I wrench my head free from the hole.
Blood trickles down from my eyebrow.
I grin, baring every tooth, and run a hand through my hair, slicking it back with my own blood.
I see the man's bionic fist driving toward my nose.
I don't think. I let my reflexes and adrenal boosters move my body, for me.
I raise my hands, pivot, and let my open palm brush his forearm for the briefest instant.
That's all it takes.
Instead of stopping the punch, I redirect it, using his own momentum to send him stumbling past me.
Amateur.
You can have all the mods you want, if you don’t know how to fight, you’ve lost before you even started.
“That's all you can do?” I taunt with a laugh. “And here I thought with all that chrome you could at least knock me out.”
I wink.
“Shut up!” He whirls around and drives a kick into my midsection.
I brace myself, bringing my forearms up to absorb the impact.
His shin slams into my guard, the force crashing through my arms and into my stomach, driving the air from my lungs.
The strength of his steel and synthetic muscles against my bones is crushing.
A sharp gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it.
My feet skid a few inches across the concrete before I roll and come up in a crouch.
I pant.
I glance down at my forearms. They're already bruised and split open. I can feel the pain.
It's intense, just dulled by the dampeners.
I steady my breathing and glance toward Neo and Varek.
Each of them is locked one-on-one with the biggest robots that bastard has.
I see him coming in for another punch and from his stance alone, I know he's putting everything into it.
He's trying to fracture my skull, I wait until the very last second then I duck beneath it.
I circle my leg behind me, putting every ounce of strength into the lunge.
My arms wrap around his waist for a tackle.
His fists hammer into my back, I grit my teeth and keep driving forward. As he stumbles back from the impact, I hook my leg behind his ankle.
He loses his balance, the moment his foot catches, I dump him onto the floor. His body crashes into the concrete with a metallic slam.
I roll away and spring back to my feet and settle into my stance.
I can't fucking be late, I need that device.
I can’t let her be alone tonight.
If I die, Riven will probably kill me a second time just because she can.
“You can't win against technology, Evren.” He pushes himself to his feet. “You're going to die, and then I'll go to the Upper Layers, find that... girl you seem so obsessed with, cut her open, and make her exactly like me.”
He smirks, his voice dropping into something disturbingly calm.
“Or,” he continues nonchalantly, “I can just beat her up until she can't speak or even fight back. Then I'll tell her that it's your fault before fucking her with my entire arm. My hand will pierce through all of her organs until it comes out through her throat.”
For a long moment, I just stare at him without moving.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Neo and Varek snap their heads toward us.
How does he know about Riven? He's a hacker so he probably hacked my comm through my number and went through my messages with her.
He's talking about her.
About my little troublemaker.
Like that.
He's threatening her with something so vile that even I wouldn't imagine doing it to someone who has nothing to do with this.
I slowly lower my hands, drop my head forward and take a deep breath.
“What?” I ask, deadly calm.
I lift my head, my hair falling over my eyes.
Before he can even open his mouth, I move.
One second I'm staring at him, the next, I'm behind him.
I drop into a crouch, drive my hand through the bundle of wires behind his knees, grip them, and rip them free.
He stumbles forward and crashes to his knees with a cry of pain.
I close the distance.
I turn, putting us back to back, and snake one arm around the wires and tubes that serve as his neck, just beneath his still-human head.
His hands fly to my forearm, but with my free hand I seize a fistful of his hair and yank his head back.
“S-Stop!” he gurgles.
I don't answer.
I lock eyes with Neo and Varek. They stare at me as if I've just unleashed a demon, satisfaction gleaming in both their faces.
Then I tighten my hold and keep pulling, every muscle in my body screams with the effort.
His head is anchored to that transparent metal body of his.
I keep pulling.
He kicks wildly, his bionic fists hammering into my forearm, trying to force me to let go.
The wires grind against my skin under the strain, then we all hear it as they begin to tear.
“You touch her,” I whisper. “You talk about her, you even dream about her... and you die.”
“I-I'm sorry!” he gasps, struggling to break my hold.
“Too late.”
“N-No!” he screams, his hands digging into my skin.
I don't feel it.
I pull harder, gritting my teeth.
The wires snap with a sharp whip crack, followed by a spray of glowing green fluid as the tubes rupture, splashing across my body.
With one final wrench, I feel the last connection give way.
His body collapses behind me with a heavy metallic thud.
His head hangs in my hand, dripping green fluid, his face frozen in a silent scream.
“Damn, Evren.” Neo lets out a long breath. “Cold. Even for you.”
I drop his head and head for the basement stairs without a word.
“Neo, find the device.” I pause. “Varek, take everything here that's worth something. Then bring me the device and deal with the rest.”
I glance toward the exit.
“I've got a fucking ball to get to.”
The device sits in the inside pocket of this stupid suit that cost a fucking arm.
My hair is slicked back.
The dress shirt is perfectly tucked under my waistband and wrinkle-free—just like the tailor promised—the jacket is fitted and buttoned at the waist.
The pants are surprisingly comfortable.
Loose enough to move in, not squeezing my balls until they can't fucking breathe.
Perfect, in a way but I still hate wearing the damn thing.
There was no fucking way I was wearing the tie. My collar is open just enough to show the tattoos on my collarbones and pectorals.
The sleeves are rolled up to my mid-forearms so my tattoos are on full display.
So are the bruises and cuts from the fight with that thing who dared threaten what was mine when she had nothing to do with any of it.
Except for the device.
I wasn't going to let him talk about her like that.
I couldn't, the moment I heard him, my mind locked up.
It felt like something inside me snapped and if he would have killed me…
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image of what he threatened to do to Riven.
Instead, it drags me right back to the memory of her ex wrapping his hands around her throat and her weakening and turning purple.
My jaw clenches so hard that the bruise from where my head smashed through the wooden wall earlier starts throbbing.
I managed to wash off all the green fluid, patch up my wounds, change into this damn suit, and park my Charger outside her building to wait for her.
Ren gave me a tiny earpiece so he could stay in contact with me.
It's not comfortable to wear, but at least it's practically invisible.
I can't believe I'm actually doing this shit.
I'm doing it for her and her brother.
Because I need the files, I need her to keep her promise—to stay and chase the silence away.
I glance down at my comm, then look back up.
She said seven and it's 7:05 p.m., and she's still not downstairs.
What the fuck is she doing?
I swear, if she's sleeping or just fucking with me, I'll drag her out of bed myself and shove her naked into the car.
She's the one who forced me into this shit.
Made me wear this damn suit, dragged me to some Upper Layers ball where I have no business being, just so I can smile and play nice with a bunch of rich, spoiled bastards.
I'm here to plug in the device and help her find out what happened to her brother—and piss off her parents.
And she's the one who's fucking late.
I could have better things to do.
In two weeks, the seasonal race—held once every three months—is coming up.
I'll be racing, obviously.
But before that, I need to decide who else from Crimson Velocity will compete, who'll stay behind as support, and who among the new recruits is ready to race—or at least ready to help.
My eyes harden as I take a step toward the entrance of her building, ready to throw her over my shoulder and drag her to that damn ball.
I freeze mid-step.
My brain just... Stops.
There she is, stepping out of the building. My mouth goes dry, my heart skips a beat, my chest tightening painfully.
I don’t like that, I don’t like this feeling, what the fuck is this?
Her long black hair is down, slicked back, looking like she just stepped out of the shower, a few loose strands framing her face.
Her lips are painted a deep red and those eyes.
Fuck me.
Her eyes are sharp, rimmed in black, making her mismatched gaze even more striking, as if she could cut someone in half with a single look.
Her dress is black, with each step she takes, it shines with the lights and neon, hugging every curve before flaring subtly at the floor. The sheer lace corset reveals intricate floral embroidery.
An asymmetrical velvet drape falls over one hip.
Around her collarbones rests a sculptural silver necklace, like twisted wire wrapped around her neck, matched with deep red gemstone earrings.
And those fucking black stilettos—Thin, razor-sharp heels carved like silver daggers.
Everything about her is lethal, fatal.
Enough to kill a man.
Enough to kill me.
She looks at me and my knees buckle.
What the fuck is wrong with my body? What is this? Did that bastard's green fluid poison me?
She's close enough now that I have to look down at her. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder now instead of brushing past it.
I can smell her perfume. It's not her natural scent, but she smells like vanilla and dark amber.
“Well,” she says, “you finally smell like a normal person.”
I don't—can't answer.
My gaze drops to her lips, hypnotized by the deep red. Slowly, I force myself to look back into her eyes.
They're so sharp, it feels like she's looking straight through my soul.
“Cat got your tongue, freak?” She smirks before giving me a slow once-over. “You got into a fight?”
I drop to one knee in front of her, then the other follows before I can even do something about it.
I can't even fucking stand.
It's the poison, I've been poisoned or the fight must've been too much.
That's all.
“What the fuck are you doing, Evren?”
“Shut up,” I murmur roughly. “Just shut the fuck up.”
I pant, staring at the ground, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I don't understand what the fuck is happening.
I reach up, grip her hips hard enough to make her hiss and use her to pull myself back to my feet.
“Hey! Watch the dress!” she snaps, punching the exact spot where that robot-man kicked me.
I grunt and look down at her fist before meeting her gaze again.
“You're fucking unbelievable.” I lean closer, my voice dropping into a low, intimate rumble. “I could throw you over my shoulder and rip that little dress right off you. Would you like that?”
I lift a hand and brush my bruised knuckles along her jawline.
“No.” She looks away from my gaze. “Try and I swear—”
“Mmh?” I lean in another inch, my knuckles continuing their slow descent from her neck to her collarbone, stopping at the top of her corset.
I feel my cock straining against my pants.
I slide my hand and brush my thumb against her nipple lightly, tracing the embroidery.
I watch a flush bloom across her cheeks, turning them pink, then red.
I chuckle and pull back, keeping one hand on her hip while the other slides to the side of her neck, my thumb brushing over the steady beat of her pulse.
“I got the device,” I say, straightening up. “Now, let's go before I really decide to tear that dress right off you.”
I turn, rest my hand against the small of her back, and guide her toward my Charger before opening the passenger door.
“After you, my lady.” I tease.
Her eyes widen before she instantly looks away.
“Tsk.” She scoffs and slides into the seat.
I smile, making sure the hem of her dress is safely inside before closing the door. Then I walk around to my side and slide behind the wheel.
“Tsk all you want.” I start the engine. “I'll tear that dress off once we're done with this shit.”
I pull away from the curb and drive off.
Fast.
But not the way I usually do, it feels like I'm crawling at ten miles an hour when the speedometer says sixty.
My hand moves from the gear lever to her thigh.
She tenses but doesn’t pull away or slap it.
My Charger looks completely out of place in the Upper Layers.
It is.
Its reinforced chassis can withstand repeated collisions, powered by an overclocked engine and a high-output boost system.
I stripped out most of the safety systems, while a partial signal-masking module reduces tracking at the cost of stability.
Finished in black and red, it has a wide stance, exposed mechanical components, and battle-scarred bodywork.
Compared to the sleek cars around here, it's a mountain surrounded by floating silver eggs.
“We’re here.” She points.