Renegade (25 page)

“Better than expected, all things considered.”

Her smile reminded me of Hunter’s: slightly off-kilter, but full of genuine warmth. “Good, I’m glad.” She patted me on the shoulder before returning her hands to her lap. She inhaled and the smile fled.

I frowned. “What’s wrong? Does Quinn have bad news?”

The hands in her lap clenched tightly. “Actually, I’m afraid I do. Mila, I wanted to get you alone because I wanted to talk to you about Hunter. Has he told you anything about his past?”

“You mean, about his real dad?”

She nodded. “So you know. Good. I think that will make what I have to say easier.” She smiled again, but this time, her eyes were sad. “Mila, I see how you feel about Hunter, and how he feels about you.”

She paused, and I sat quietly, trying to pretend like my stomach hadn’t just flipped with joy. How he felt about me? Did that mean he still felt the same way?

She gave a harsh sigh and appeared to square her shoulders. As if prepping herself for something. “I see it, and it just can’t go on.”

My stomach crashed hard. “What do you mean?”

She averted her gaze. “I think you know what I mean. Hunter’s been through a lot. His dad, who’s a horrible human being; adjusting to a stepdad; then this, which I’m sure he sees as another betrayal. He deserves a chance at a normal life, a happy life. He might seem strong to you, but I’ve seen the wounds his father left on him. They run deep.”

I curled my fingers into the bedding, my throat tightening. “But I would never hurt him—”

“Not on purpose, I’m sure,” she interjected. “But haven’t you already hurt him, by lying?”

One strike to my heart.

“What about his arm?”

Two.

“Didn’t you put him in danger, by not telling him the truth?”

A stab, right in the middle.

“Maybe we weren’t a threat, but General Holland certainly is.”

Skewered.

I opened my mouth to protest, but there were no words. No defenses. Even though some of what she was saying was pretty hypocritical.

“Look, I know this must be hard for you, and I’m sorry to be the one to deliver the news. But deep down, surely you understand. He deserves a girl he can really love, someone more . . . like him. Someone who doesn’t bring turmoil to his life, like his father did. If you really care for my son, I’m asking you, please . . . let him go.”

As she spoke, it was like her eyes begged me to forgive her. But there was nothing to forgive. Nothing except the truth.

And the truth, as I’d come to learn, didn’t care how it made you feel. The truth could be brutal.

No, no arguments from me, because deep down, I did understand. Deep down, I knew she was right.

Hadn’t I been telling myself the very same thing, all along?

I’d known involving Hunter was selfish. I’d known I’d risked his safety. I’d known that we shouldn’t be together. But I’d wanted so, so badly for the logic to disappear. To just surrender to my emotions so I could revel in the way he made me
feel.

I bowed my head. I’d been making choices all along, but none of them were based on truth. The truth was, I was bad for Hunter. The truth was, I had to let him go. But not before I asked her an important question.

“Why did you?” I said simply.

Her right eyebrow raised in a high arch. “Why what?”

“If Quinn wanted me so badly, why didn’t you just take me as soon as you figured out I was at the Dairy Queen? Why did you encourage Hunter to get to know me?” I noticed how her face stiffened with each elaboration, but I kept going, hoping that she’d set the record straight although I was making her squirm. “I just . . . don’t understand any of it.”

“We were just following the directive,” she said, coolly.

“What does that mean?”

“I wish I could tell you. Hunter, too. He asked me all the same questions.” I felt a hand curl around my shoulder and squeeze. “Quinn’s the only person who can give you that information.”

The bed creaked as she stood, and I heard her footsteps retreat to the door.

Without lifting my head, I called out flatly. “Did she even really need anything?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “She wanted me to tell you that Daniel is gone.”

That pulled my head up. “Gone? Gone where?”

She gave a flutter of her hands. “He left. She said he told her that being near you was just too hard, given . . . well, you know.”

I didn’t respond. I just bowed my head back into my hands and let the pain wash over me. I hadn’t admitted to myself until this very moment that I’d held out hope for rekindling some kind of relationship with Daniel. Stupid, I knew that. He’d never see me as a daughter, just like Hunter would never see me as a girlfriend. Because everyone could see clearly what I never could, until this very moment. I wasn’t human, and I never would be. And the human parts I did have? They were useless. No, worse than useless. Damaging. Everyone I cared about or who cared about me got hurt in the end. Mom. Lucas. Hunter. And now Daniel.

But where did that leave me? What did I have left? Besides pain—this terrible, gaping, ragged-edged pain?

My breaths came in short, aching gasps as I grappled for something, anything, to dull the agony. I wished I could just suck out all this pain and bury it in a hole somewhere. All of my hope, gone. I’d been fooling myself all along. No one would ever accept me as I was. No one would ever love me for me.

I punched the bed, over and over again, until the mattress was nothing but a mass of holes. What a waste all of this was. So much feeling, amounting to nothing. If only I could channel it into something productive.

If only I could keep my heart from feeling like it was being shredded, strip by strip.

Then I remembered. Quinn. She had relief for me. She had a purpose. A cause. All I had to do was undergo her upgrades, and then Holland, the person who’d sent me down this rabbit hole of despair, who caused everyone around him to suffer without remorse, would pay. If I was selfish, then he was a supreme narcissist of the first order.

If I couldn’t have Hunter or a real human life, then my feelings were worthless anyway. A painful, haunting reminder of everything I couldn’t have. How could I possibly think of anything when I could swear my heart was cracking, cracking, cracking, into a million tiny fissures that would eventually crumble into dust? How could I think logically when my entire being felt like it might splinter in two?

My emotions, I couldn’t function with them. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Quinn had been right, all along. My emotions had to go.

“I think you’re making a very wise decision. I’m so proud of you,” Quinn said, as she readied me on the table an hour later. “Your emotional reactions are crippling, and there’s no need for that. This way you can focus on Holland. You won’t feel the guilt over Nicole’s death.”

Not just Mom’s death. Three’s, too. A part of me I hadn’t known about, until it was too late.

Both of those things, my fault.

No. Holland’s fault.

As I sat there, my initial misgivings gave way to a deeper, primal urge. A growing thirst, to claim whatever knowledge Quinn had to bestow. Ultimately, upgrades meant power, and power meant a better chance at punishing Holland.

I would allow Quinn to vacuum out my feelings—my despair, my pain—and gladly. They hurt. They hurt so incredibly much. And in their place, I would take Holland. His reputation, his life, everything he had. It was no more than he deserved.

“Are you ready?”

Upgrades. Improved functionality. Emotional control.

Lessening the pain.

Though I knew I should keep my guard up, I felt myself being dragged under her spell. I raised glazed eyes and nodded my assent.

“Ready,” I answered.

Ready for the new, improved Mila. Ready to stop hurting, once and for all.

Hunter’s face flashed through my mind, igniting a deep yearning. I curled my toes. Yearning never amounted to anything good. It led to pain and disappointment, destruction and death.

The only thing I wanted to yearn for anymore was revenge.

I tucked my hands into my lap, tucking away any last misgivings at the same time. I wasn’t Sarah. There was nothing here to save.

“Quinn? We ready?”

Samuel appeared, looking a little worse for wear. His shirt was rumpled, and red lines zagged in the whites of his eyes.

“Yep. Perfect timing.”

He paused a couple of feet from the table. “Are we . . . are you sure about this?” he asked. The question seemed directed at Quinn, but he was staring at me.

Slowly, deliberately, Quinn pushed to her full height. Despite her small stature, her posture suggested fangs coiled beneath the pretty exterior, just waiting to strike. Obviously, she didn’t like being questioned by her subordinates. “We are both completely sure, thank you, Samuel,” she said. A sharpness cut the pleasantness of her words.

He ignored her, though, and continued to stare directly at me. He lifted a red brow, as if prodding for an answer. I didn’t understand why he would care. Not after how he’d had my sleeping arrangements changed. I guess maybe I didn’t make him uncomfortable here, in the lab. “Yes.”

His shoulders slouched a little, before he straightened. “Fine. Let’s get this going,” he said, suddenly all business.

Quinn watched him as he fiddled with instruments, before sighing. “This is going to work out for the best. For all of us. If Holland thought I’d just step aside and look pretty and take what he dished out, he misjudged me by a mile.”

“That’s your personal vendetta,” Samuel muttered almost inaudibly under his breath.

Quinn’s breath caught, and her expression turned stormy. I thought she’d say something, but she surprised me by glancing at me and letting it go.

“All right, then. Let’s get these upgrades in.”

Upgrades. Once again the word rolled through my head, and deep inside me, a hunger awakened. Once upon a time, any mention of android functions would have sent shame coursing through my manufactured veins. Now, all I felt was strength.

My mind wandered off as they got to work. I heard Quinn talking, off and on. Telling me how Holland had actually contacted her to see if she could help with his missing “project,” as he called me. Telling me we were going to expose him for the fool he was, and get him where it hurt via public humiliation. Telling me not to worry, that everything would be okay. Telling me that I wouldn’t have to endure emotional pain again.

Maybe in the end, we’d both be satisfied.

At the very least, I wouldn’t be hurting.

“Okay, part one has been taken care of. Now, on to the next. Time to change your emotional settings.”

Emotional settings. I thought of Hunter, of Mom, and triggered a cascade of pain.

I was ready to embrace the numbness.

“We’re not turning your emotions off, mind you, just containing them with a new microchip. Building a high threshold for all of the emotions that might hinder or hurt you.”

Abby’s teeth flashed as she chewed on her lip. “What’s the point of this?” She’d joined in partway through the procedure.

Quinn didn’t spare her a glance. “She’s suffering, that’s the point. Do you think that’s helpful, or even necessary?”

“But you’re saving some of her emotions?” Abby asked.

“Oh yes. Anger. And hate. Those two emotions will give her the fuel she needs to carry out this task.”

As I listened to her words, I wondered—was what she was saying possible? Could she somehow press a few buttons, implant a switch, and then, bam! My pain would go away? Did I definitely want this, assuming it was going to work? Should I want this?

I thought of Mom. Of Sarah. Of the part of me I’d killed. A fist grabbed my heart, squeezed the life out of it, and I concluded yes. I’d give anything to make it all go away.

Quinn’s gaze was watchful, almost like she could see the conflict going on inside me. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll best Holland at his own game. Succeed where he failed. Don’t you think it’s time he paid, for what he did to your mom?”

Not only Mom, but the way he’d pitted me against Three, against myself. And suddenly, it
was
all too much to bear. Watching as Mom died. Watching as Three—Sarah—melted into oblivion.

There was Jensen and Mom, memories I could feel but never touch. And then there were the memories I could touch but wished I’d never seen. Blood. Death. There was me, wasting my precious time with Mom by acting surly.

There was even a girl I didn’t know but whose life was forever entwined with mine. Together, they clamored inside of me, making me feel, hurt, yearn, and bleed, and yet I didn’t have real blood, and suddenly it wasn’t okay, it was too much, with overwhelming tides of despair, dragging me under, gripping my ankles and pulling me down until I had no hope of surfacing again.

Too much.

I wanted it gone. I wanted all of it gone. The idea that for once, I could banish these feelings that dragged me down into a sinkhole of despair, sounded like my salvation. I was an android, and now my human ties had been severed. I didn’t want the emotions to remind me of what I had lost. Of how much that loss crushed me.

Sarah. The name whispered through my head, as if chastising my choice, and I wavered. Part of me was human, after all. Part of Three had been human. And I’d killed her.

My hands clenched.

Quinn frowned. “Think of Holland. Or revenge. Of how very much you hate him.”

The emotions flared readily, the second I summoned Holland’s face. I hated him, with every fiber of my being.

“Good. Perfect. Now, sit very still,” Quinn said. She shifted a few needles, this time near the back of my skull, and went back to her computer. I heard clicking, and then felt something warm and hard pulsate through my head, concentrated just on one tiny area. An electrical buzz followed, wrapping netlike until it encircled that entire portion of my brain.

Quinn fiddled with the buttons as the net tightened. Other members of the group came and went, all except for Abby. She stayed by my side, twirling a wisp of blond hair around her finger, her eyes steady. Occasionally, she’d frown, but mostly she just sat and watched. Silently.