Ezra (New Carnegie Androids #6)

Chapter 5

[ 5 ]

Kat

Riding in Ezra’s cruiser to my apartment with my purse in my lap, I spend most of the journey trying to think about what to say to him, what to do. Because as glad as I am that I can continue on with my life outside of a cushy ivory tower, I don’t want this to be it. And I’m worried that it is.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve developed a friendship with him, something I didn’t expect would happen. More than that, we’ve definitely crossed what’s supposed to be a friendship line. All while he’s been protecting me. An assigned bodyguard. And I—well, he fingered me and vibrated, and I’ll never experience that with anyone else, ever again. It was amazing.

But it’s not even that stolen night I’ll miss. It’s talking to Ezra. Discussing current events with him, listening to his advice, being pushed to be better than what and who I am now.

I want to keep him in my life. Is that so wrong?

BioNex Tower is far behind us, and the penthouse with it. Stepping outside that door was like moving back into reality from a safe and pleasant dream.

Except I didn’t dream Ezra touched me that night—my first time being touched at all. I didn’t imagine the most powerful and overwhelming orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Nothing I’ve done to myself could rival that. And I didn’t fantasize about spearheading an entire narrative shift for Humanity First from anti-android to simply pro-worker over the course of a couple weeks spent with an android detective who’s both incredibly logical and sometimes infuriatingly correct.

Acknowledgment that I’ve got a lot of work to do within my father’s organization comes with a large slice of humble pie. BioNex isn’t going anywhere. I have to convince others to hop on board with my line of thinking. I’m only glad I never said things with my whole chest that would undermine me now. Dad definitely has his opinions on people having relationships with androids, but I never spoke against those relationships on social media or judged people like Lucy Warren or Rebecca Schroeder. I’ll admit I wondered what went so wrong that they chose an android over a human.

But who am I kidding? With the dating scene how it is nowadays—dating apps, dick pics, men and women talking up fifty people at a time just trying to find one person they can stomach for longer than a quick romp in the sack—I can see the appeal of bionic men. Beyond that, the more time I’ve spent in Ezra’s presence, the more I realize how unique he is, and how I’ve never met anyone organic like him.

What’s more, it’s hard to ignore this feeling of being intertwined with him in more ways than a solitary secret evening of weakness that we shared. I’m not really one to believe in fate, but Ezra has appeared and reappeared in my life several times. Is it wrong that I’m sitting here trying to think of something, anything, to make him a part of my future too?

What would I say to him? Hey, by the way, can we talk about the way you made me scream the other night? No way are those words coming out of my mouth. Making a fool of myself in front of him isn’t on my to-do list in any shape or form. Besides, if he wanted to talk about it, he could’ve brought it up himself, and I’m not sure he wants to.

After all, he’s staying in New Carnegie. My dream is to leave the States. What can I offer him that he wants? He can have anyone he wants, really, with his intelligence, his looks, his strength.

I risk a glance over to the driver’s seat. Ezra’s gaze is on the road. He’s driving his cruiser manually with one hand resting on the wheel. He seems fairly at ease. Maybe he’s relieved this is all over and things can get back to normal for him. I envy that.

I’m not sure anything will ever feel normal to me again. Not because of the assassination attempt on my dad or the bombings. They’re all an awful reminder that there’s no coming back from this, the world we’ve created.

No. Things won’t go back to normal for me because I don’t like the direction Humanity First has taken: No droids. Shut them down . I don’t want to shut them down. Androids don’t deserve it. They never have. It’s like a parent getting angry at a child for existing when the child didn’t ask to be born. It’s lunacy. It doesn’t resonate with me.

How much did I believe in the tenants of my father’s movement to begin with? Was I blinded by loyalty? It doesn’t matter. I can’t support that mindset anymore.

This damn rain. It drizzles against the windshield, the windows. When was the last time I saw the sun? Everything’s so dreary, and it only contributes to the lowering of my mood. I should be happy I’m free to move around again, that I can move into my new place and focus on the things that matter to me. Instead, I’m forlorn.

I can’t bear the silence anymore. “Are you looking forward to getting back to your family?”

I ask softly.

Ezra’s hand tenses on the wheel. “Yes. I’ve been gone a long time.”

He sighs. “At least, it’ll seem like a long time to Deion’s children. But there’s still so much work to do, and I won’t be able to rest until TerraPura is taken down completely.”

I try to imagine Ezra with children. It’s hard to picture. He’s so serious most of the time. But part of me wishes I could witness him playing with little ones, seeing the burdens of his job fall away to allow him to enjoy the small things.

“They must really love you. The kids, I mean.”

“They do.”

The corner of Ezra’s mouth turns up, and he chuckles. “I miss them.”

“I’m sure they miss you too,”

I reply. I’ll miss you. That’s what I want to say. But I’m not sure how much good it will do either of us, if I utter such an intimate thing aloud.

He parks the cruiser outside my apartment complex and steps out after turning the engine off. When I get out, I’m surprised to find Ezra waiting for me with an umbrella to keep me dry.

His white irises glow softly. “Come on.”

His tone is gentle, as though he senses there’s something amiss with me. Maybe I’m imagining it, but something seems off with him too. He’s always in control, but this is different. It’s almost like resignation. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

He shakes off the water droplets from the umbrella once we’re in the stairwell and remains by my side through the entryway scanning terminal. The new android security measures don’t go off when he passes the gates, but there’s a little beep, and a holo-projection of a badge hovers over the confirmation screen.

“Law enforcement override. Welcome to Riverbright Estates.”

He activates the elevator and motions for me to step inside. “After you.”

“Thank you,”

I say, but that’s too small a phrase to encompass everything rolling through my mind. Suddenly, everything overwhelming me all boils up inside, and I can’t take it anymore. When the elevator doors shut, I struggle to get the words out.

“Ezra, can we—can we talk about . . . what happened?”

Ezra’s shield of stoicism isn’t quite there anymore. His attention is wholly on me. There’s caution in his eyes. “Which part?”

“You know which part.”

“I believe so,”

Ezra replies. “But I’d rather not miscalculate the trajectory of this conversation.”

I hug my arms to my chest. “That night.”

I search for the words. “It was...”

Ezra waits patiently for me to continue.

“I’ve never done anything like that before with anyone, and I’ll—”

Why can’t I get the words out? “I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.”

Ezra’s white eyes are backlit by a glow that makes him seem all the more ethereal when he gazes at me.

I drive on. “I should’ve talked with you about it the following day, but I was a bit of a chickenshit. I was worried I’d fuck it up.”

“I avoided the same discussion,”

Ezra says. “Not out of fear, but rather understanding. You needn’t feel as though that’s entirely your responsibility.”

“Do you ever think about it?”

Ezra’s response is measured, careful. “Often.”

Hope swells in my chest, though I desperately try to fight it down. He’s being guarded. Maybe I should be too. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Because I’m an android?”

Ezra suggests, gazing right through me.

“No.”

Flustered, I look away. “I mean—I know that has its challenges, but that isn’t the only reason. It’s not because of you, it’s because of me. Because of my connections, my family, who I am.”

“Do you regret it?” he asks.

“No,”

I answer quickly. “Not even a little bit. Do you?”

The seconds that pass make me feel like a puppet being dangled and danced over the edge of a stage, ready to fall in a tangle at any moment.

“Of course I don’t,”

he replies. I relax just a little, relieved by his words and his low, gentle tone. His normally stoic face softens. “And I never will. But I think you and I refrained from speaking of it for different reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

It hurts when he tilts his head back with a rueful chuckle. “The fact is, I never had a shot with you.”

“Ezra,”

I whisper, pained. “That’s not true?—”

The elevator dings when we reach my floor. The doors open, but he shuts them again. We are alone for the moment, and he continues. “I know it’s not because I’m bionic, Katrina. Trust me.”

I press my lips together as I stare at his shoes, nodding. “Then what is it?”

“Let’s forget everything else for a moment,”

he continues. “I’m just a man. I’m also a detective. I have to stay where I am.”

My heart sinks. “I know.”

“That’s the reason for my silence on the matter,”

he replies. “Not because of your father or Humanity First. Because of your goals, your ambitions. Your career.”

Somewhere in the midst of this, the distance between us has narrowed. Like we can’t help but erase the inches between us.

“BecauseI’m not staying,”

I finish for him. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, saying it aloud, but it does. “Because of my job and everything I said about France and Europe.”

“Not just your job. Your dream,”

Ezra corrects tenderly for me. “What kind of man would I be if I tried to deter you from it?”

“You didn’t talk about it because you knew it couldn’t go anywhere,”

I mumble, lowering my eyes. “Because you’re considerate. Better than most men. Anyone else would be selfish and try to talk me out of it.”

“Katrina.”

He speaks my name so softly, and behind his words, I wonder if I’m imagining a similar ache to the one in my chest. Then his fingers slip beneath my chin, gently tilting my head up, so that I have no choice but to meet his eyes. Just that small touch is enough to assail my stomach with butterflies.

“You are an incredible woman,”

he says. “You’re smart. Fearless. Honest. Nobody can look at you and say anything to the contrary. And if things were different...”

“If things were different.”

Melancholy replaces the delight from his touch. “But they aren’t. So there isn’t any point.”

He brushes my cheek lightly with his thumb before he lets his hand fall. He sighs, his voice a low rumble. “Where’s your phone?”

I pull it out of my purse, offering it to him unlocked. He takes it, thumb tapping across the screen. “You have my number. If anything seems wrong, if you think you’re in trouble, if you need assistance—you don’t have to call the precinct. You can reach out to me directly.”

“Is that allowed?”

“I don’t care,”

Ezra replies dryly. “Deion’s not going to rat me out, anyway. What could they do? Shut me down?”

I stare down at my phone after he hands it back to me. Even having it doesn’t necessarily brighten my mood, because by his own words, something has to be wrong for me to reach out. I can’t just call or text to shoot the breeze, like I can with Zoey. He’s busy. I can’t bother him.

“They’d better not. I’d hate to come after the ACU for sabotaging their own squad and wrecking their best detective.”

Ezra gazes at me. “You’re the only person beyond Deion and Jayne who outwardly acknowledges all I do. I won’t forget that.”

The elevator door opens again. My time with Ezra is over. “You’ll be safe?”

I step away reluctantly.

He casts his gaze upward and scoffs bitterly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m always safe.”

He walks with me to my front door. I’m reluctant to say goodbye for good.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks.

“An air mattress, remember?”

I say. “I’m all set. Anyway, you should go. Your family’s waiting for you, aren’t they? I’ve taken enough of your time.”

I try to sound chipper, but my hurt comes across more than I wanted it to.

He hesitates, perplexed by my horrible poker face. “Katrina, I?—”

“It’s really okay,”

I reassure him, even as my eyes grow hot with tears. I need to go inside. I’m sure I look like an idiot, moments away from crying. My emotions aren’t his problem. He’s got much more important things to do for the victims, for the city. I can’t be selfish. I open my door and step inside. “Thank you again for the ride. Good night.”

He briefly nods, rubbing his neck. “Good night.”

I give him one last weak smile and shut the door. My apartment is a small two-bedroom on the fourteenth floor of a new development. I don’t dare let myself cry, even with a door and a hallway between us. He’s got those amazing, super-powered ears, so I’m going to be strong for his sake. I stand by the windows, peering down at the street where I can see his cruiser. After a few minutes, he emerges from the entrance, walking through the rain toward his car. He pauses, glancing up at my building as he opens the door. Then he slips into the driver’s seat, and the headlights illuminate the street in front of him. He slowly pulls away.

I’m letting myself have a good cry on my air mattress when I hear a strange shuffling in my bag. I look up as it unzips. Charlie tumbles out with a happy trill, which turns into a confused beep when he sees me in my current state.

I reach out for him, both delighted and relieved. “Charlie!”

The little spider-droid skitters across the floor and hops onto my bed, all but leaping into my arms. I hug him tightly as I sob. He stowed away. I can’t believe it.

I plant kisses over his cold metal casing. “Oh, Charlie.”

He pets my damp cheek with the end of his leg, beeping inquisitively.

“Ezra’s gone, so I’m just having a pity-party.”

I hug him again. “But don’t worry, I’ll be better in the morning. I’ll bounce back. I always do.”

Talking to him already makes me feel better. I don’t know if Schroeder will return to his penthouse and notice him missing. But that’s an issue better left for tomorrow. I eventually fall asleep with Charlie curled against my chest.

A few weeks later, on move-in day, I triumphantly step into my new flat in downtown New Carnegie. Charlie is now a permanent resident—I called Schroeder the day after I discovered him, and my father’s old friend wouldn’t hear any talk of me returning him. Something about his little gratification drive being made up, and there’s no use trying to change it. So, Charlie is now my only roommate. And he is currently hiding in my room under the bed, scared of all the noise.

“This is it,”

I declare as my friends shuffle inside to look themselves. “It’s not big or ritzy, but it’s perfect for me.”

Zoey’s out of the hospital and wearing a cast on her leg. I tried to talk her out of helping me move, but she insisted, tired of being similarly cooped up. She holds her boyfriend’s hand, squeaking excitedly.

“This is gorgeous, Kat! Look at that view!”

She pulls him over to the wide windows that oversee the street. In the distance, the New Carnegie skyline is outlined by the morning sun.

“This isn’t bad at all.”

Zoey’s boyfriend, Bridger, lets out an impressed whistle. “You’re doing pretty well for yourself with a place like this, huh?”

“Not bad, no,”

I agree humbly. I’m already in love with the pretty kitchen tiles under my heels, the lush ivory carpet. This space is mine, and I can’t wait to make it my own.

“Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it,”

Bridger says, stealing a kiss from Zoey. They share a small, lingering moment of affection that I quickly look away from, not wishing to become envious. He really stepped up when Zoey was in the hospital, moving from “that guy”

she’s been casually seeing off and on to exclusive material. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready for me to pick you up.”

“Okay, babe.”

Zoey tucks her hair behind an ear, watching him leave. “Bye!”

I’m happy for her, and I’m trying not to be reminded of the fact I can’t have what she has. Not right now. Ezra’s face, his voice in my ear, the night we spent with his hands on me, threaten to all surface in the back of my mind. I push them down. I can avoid them more easily during the day.

“The movers should be here any minute with my furniture,”

I say. “What should we do in the meantime?”

“Get your walk-in closet all set, obviously,”

Zoey replies, chipper, as she makes her way into the master bedroom. She grabs a box. “By the time we’re done today, you’ll have a cozy new room and not a box in sight!”

“That’s ambitious,” I muse.

“Never underestimate my unpacking skills,”

Zoey says with a grin. “I’m just so glad you’re back. Are you excited for the museum’s reopening next month?”

“I am. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“Did you hear Dr. Vaughn got one of those android sensors for the entrance?”

“After what happened, I’m glad. It’ll hopefully catch some of these TerraPura psychopaths,”

I say as I unlock a bin full of my shoes. I tsk . “You know, I’m not sure I wear half of these.”

“You will once you don’t have to go digging for them.”

Zoey snatches the bin from me. “Lesson one of a walk-in closet: shoe display.”

I’m appreciative of the all-encompassing distraction that is Zoey. She’s bright and bubbly, and it’s a relief to see that what happened hasn’t slowed her down in the slightest. I’m honestly a little surprised at how quickly she bounced back. She’s made of strong stuff.

When the movers arrive, they set up my bedroom completely, my living room with a couch and an entertainment console, and my office where I can lead livestreams, interviews, and study when I finally enroll into a graduate program. The movers recognize me and go above and beyond what most workers would do. They even mount my sleek TV on the wall and install my soundbar that can be used to play music on command in any room.

“Thank you so much,”

I tell them. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s our pleasure, ma’am.”

One tips his grody hat to me. He’s covered in dirt and sweat and has the biggest grin on his face. “I got laid off from Carnegie Steel. I appreciate what you and your pops have been doing.”

I’m embarrassed by his praise. I don’t feel like I’m doing enough to merit that kind of admiration. “Thanks, but Dad and I haven’t been able to win anyone’s jobs back.”

“Not true. I hear there’s a big lawsuit cooking against my old employer, and with the big-name lawyers backing it? It’ll hopefully give us some justice, at the very least,”

the man replies. “I just wish BioNex would’ve kept to family droids rather than going this corporate route. Everything was damn near perfect before old Schroeder stepped down.”

“What do you mean?”

I ask as I pull out my wallet while he readies a tablet for my payment.

“My wife has trouble getting around. Our android, Sascha, has been a big help. He doesn’t do anyone any wrong. We need him, you know? But with everything going on, it’s a damn shame. It’s like there’s no room for those of us who are straight down the middle, reasonable people.”

I’ve been dreading working on my social media, but the mover’s words give me hope. Maybe there are more people willing to compromise, acknowledge androids and their place in society, than I realized. I thank him for sharing his opinion with me, give him and his coworkers the biggest tip I can afford to brighten their day, and get back to helping Zoey with my closet.

When we finish, I rest my hands on my hips, feeling a bit sore from the ups, downs, crouches, and moving around I’ve done all day, and admire our work. “I’m starving, Zoey. What do you want me to order?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Pizza and beer! It’s a moving-in tradition. You order it, and I’ll have Bridger pick it up and bring it.”

“Done.”

I place an order for one pepperoni pizza and one veggie supreme pizza, and soon enough Bridger strides into my new kitchen with the food and a six-pack of bottled AstorLite. Zoey’s a lightweight, and where she stops at one, I have three. Before long she’s happily singing a love song on the radio while Bridger and I laugh.

“Only Zoey would get drunk off one AstorLite,”

he says wryly, taking a swig.

“It’s like beer for babies,”

I tease. “You’re going to have to keep an eye on her.”

“Trust me, I already do.”

“We should play some music!”

Zoey declares a little louder than normal, then calls to my AI device through the speakers, “Hey Alice, play...mmm...play oldies!”

“From which era would you like me to play oldies?”

the smooth, artificial female voice asks. In a passing thought, I wonder how many people in Humanity First use technology like mine, but outwardly hate on androids.

“Y2K!”

she declares. “My grandmother loved that music.”

“Mine too,”

I agree as synthetic sounds and beats come through my speakers. Zoey’s already dancing around Bridger, who’s trying not to choke on his own drink, and before long I’m swaying a little too. We all know the words and belt them out—until there’s abrupt knocking on my door.

I swing it open and find a mature woman staring daggers at me. “Would you mind keeping it down?”

she demands. “I live beneath you, and I work nights at the hospital.”

“Oh. Sorry! We’ll turn it down. I’m?—”

She storms away before I can ask her what her name is or introduce myself.

Bridger laughs. “Making friends already?”

After ordering the volume down, I cringe. “Yeah. Something like that. Off to a great start.”

I turn to them, shaking that off. “Anyway. Thanks so much for your help today.”

“Don’t mention it,”

Zoey says. “Anytime!”

“We should probably get moving.”

Bridger checks his holo-watch. “I got work early in the morning. My car’ll take care of the driving. You ready, Zo?”

Zoey hugs me tightly. “This was fun! Don’t be a stranger, m’kay? We should hang out again before the museum reopens.”

“Sure.”