Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Lara was pissed by the time they reached her home.
She didn’t wait for the bot to stop before leaping out of its arms, splashing fresh mud all over her legs when she landed.
Her bare foot sank in the muck, but she marched on, refusing to acknowledge her discomfort.
The water pouring over the edge of the roof landed on her already drenched head when she stopped at the door.
Swearing under her breath, she shoved the door aside and stomped into the shack. She threw her broken boot into a corner, dropped her bag beside her pallet, and spun toward the bot, thrusting a finger at it before it could enter. “Don’t you ever do that again, you son of a bitch.”
It stopped abruptly, its vibrant green eyes meeting hers. “Not the son of anything.”
“Don’t get smart with me. You had no right to handle me that way.”
“I have every right to ensure our agreement is fulfilled.”
“We don’t have an ag— What are you doing?” She retreated to maintain the distance between them as the bot walked inside. “I didn’t invite you in!”
“I’m not going to stand outside in the rain while I make my offer.”
She glared at it, her gaze trekking down from its face and over its body.
The way it looked and moved was so damned human.
She’d even felt its warmth through their clothing as it held her—warmth that she’d begrudgingly relished while they’d been out in the rain.
If it weren’t for those metal hands, she never would’ve guessed its true nature.
Above all else, there was a key difference between their kinds.
Most humans killed for good reason, for survival.
But these things killed because they were stronger.
They killed because they could. Bots didn’t have a conscience.
It didn’t matter that this one had voiced concern for her, had offered to bandage the scrape on her knee, and had carried her home so she didn’t injure herself further…
She leaned down, pulled off her intact boot, and tossed it near its mate.
Not without hesitation, she turned her back on the bot and moved to her lantern.
It took several frustrating attempts to produce a flame with the lighter and light the wick due to her trembling fingers, but the lantern’s soft, familiar glow was a relief.
Inhaling deeply, she tucked the lighter away and returned her attention to her unwanted guest.
Lara started, her hand flying to her chest. “Shit!”
The bot was standing directly behind her. She hadn’t even heard it move.
It was silent, eyes on her. The intensity of its unblinking stare reminded her again how different they were. How dangerous it was.
At the bottom edge of her vision, the bot held out the bundle of food. Hunger reintroduced itself to Lara in that moment, churning her stomach. She snatched the food from the bot’s hand, tore open the wrapping, and took a large bite in case the bot changed its mind.
“I’m not going to say thank you,” she said around a mouthful of meat. The savory flavor had her salivating. She took another bite before she’d even finished the first.
“You don’t have to. Just listen.”
“Lihshning.”
So. Damn. Good.
When the bot said no more, Lara looked up at it. It still had its watchful eyes fixed on her. The rain drummed on the roof, its sound competing with that of her chewing.
She wadded the food in one cheek to ask, “What?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Why?”
“If it’s been a while, you’ll make yourself sick.”
“Screw you. I don’t tell you where to shove your oil, or whatever. I’ll eat how I want.” She took another bite, chewing with her mouth open to display the food. If the bot said a single damned thing about her manners, she’d spit the meat right in its face. It’d be worth the waste of food.
Almost.
The bot stared for a little longer before finally turning away. “I’ll wait until you’re done.”
Lara huffed and moved to her pallet. Just before her ass would’ve settled atop it, she remembered that she was soaked. Scowling, she stood up straight and continued to eat, savoring the taste despite her ravenousness.
She hadn’t eaten in two days.
With nothing else to look at, her eyes wandered to the bot. Its attention was on her collection of treasures. Without its penetrating stare upon her, she was free to study it.
It wore a faded gray coat, repaired in more places than she could count by patches and neat, tight stitching.
The only unrepaired damage was the three small holes on the front, over the bot’s belly.
It carried a large pack on its back, and had a rifle slung over one shoulder.
Her bravado would’ve burned out a lot faster had she noticed that while brandishing her knife earlier.
The bot’s boots were worn, but unlike her own, they’d been meticulously cared for. She couldn’t bear to look at her footwear now knowing that one boot lay on its side, its sole hanging open like it was frowning at her.
“Why do you keep these things?” the bot asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“They serve no purpose.”
“I thought they were pretty,” she said defensively, looking over her collection.
It reminded her of what she’d found earlier.
Folding the remaining meat into her mouth, she crouched and opened her bag, removing the picture frame.
Fortunately, though the bag was damp, the photo had been spared.
As she carried the frame to the shelves, she noticed the bot holding the porcelain shard she’d found yesterday between its fingers, examining it with a furrowed brow. The bot seemed…confused.
Lara placed the photo on the top shelf, leaning the frame against the wall. Stepping back, she observed it as a piece of her larger collection, finding it beautiful despite the wear and damage it had suffered.
“That world is lost to all of us,” the bot said.
“No shit,” Lara replied, clenching her jaw so she didn’t show how deeply those words affected her. Just another reminder of how desolate her life was. This place, this lonely shack, was as good as things would ever be. “Say what you wanted to say so you can get out of here.”
The bot was quiet, staring at the photo for what felt like years. Its body was too close to hers, too unmoving; no rise and fall of its chest, no shifting of its feet. It was unnatural.
“You need food. Clean water. Reliable shelter,” it finally said. She intended to reply with another no shit, but the bot’s next words stole her breath. “I can give you all that.”
“Just give it?” she asked when she regained her composure. “Just like that? Nothing is free.”
“You’re right. Forgive my choice of words. It would be an ongoing arrangement.”
“Look, I don’t know how fried your processor got out in the Dust, but I’ve already told you, I don’t—”
The bot lifted its hand and held up a single finger, turning toward her. Glaring, Lara snapped her mouth shut.
Its impossibly vivid green eyes met and held her gaze.
“Our current agreement is that you will listen. I will provide food, water, shelter, clothing. Everything required for your survival. You will quarter at my residence”—it leveled its finger at her, silencing the protest she’d been about to make—“for the duration of this agreement. The price is simple, and one you can easily pay.”
“No.” She wasn’t interested in an arrangement. There was no way she’d become a bot’s plaything. The very thought sent a shiver along her spine, threatening to stir up memories of cruel, inhuman hands on her body.
The bot was silent, staring at her with expressionless features as her heart thumped.
“Dance for me,” it finally said. “That’s the only payment I ask.”
“God damn it, I said I don’t do that anymore! Go to Kitty’s.”
“I did. It was…unsatisfying.”
Lara’s eyebrows fell. Unsatisfying? There were bot and human dancers there, all beautiful. They were seductive, sensual, and, unlike Lara, offered private couplings for a price. How could a place like that not satisfy whatever cravings this thing had?
Yet the more she thought about this bot’s words, the more human they seemed. “What…do you mean?”
“I went and watched. None of them danced like you.”
“So, after briefly seeing me dance, you decided that you want me in your house as your own personal little dancer?”
“Yes.”
She waited for it to say more, to elaborate, but it seemed to think that one word was enough.
Lara lifted a foot to scratch at the dried mud on her calf.
Despite the meat she’d wolfed down, hunger gnawed at the pit of her stomach.
This bot was offering everything she could ever need, was offering the first real comfort of her entire life.
And she wasn’t sure what was worse—that she was tempted to refuse again, or that she was tempted to accept.
After Lara had left Kitty’s, Tabitha worked double shifts there to keep the two of them fed.
Even knowing what had happened to Lara, Tabitha had still accepted a similar offer from another bot.
Warmth and a full belly beat having perverts pawing at your tits and ass every night.
But Lara could never banish her guilt over the sacrifices Tabitha had made for them while Lara had been immobilized by terror.
“What’s your name?” the bot asked.
She pushed aside the heartache that always accompanied thoughts of Tabitha. “Lara.”
“Is that all?”
“What do you mean, is that all?”
“Humans usually have two or three names. Is it just Lara?”
“Oh. Brooks. Lara Brooks.” She tugged at the wet fabric around her neck, loosening it. “What’s…yours?”
“I told you yesterday.”
Is that a hint of offense in its tone?
No, that isn’t possible… Bots don’t work that way.
Lara eyed it suspiciously. “I was a little scared, okay? I wasn’t really paying attention to names and all.”
“Do most humans threaten violence when they’re a little scared?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, actually.”
Especially the ones who’ve had bad experiences with bots.
“So, you gonna tell me your name again or not?” she asked.