Ezra (New Carnegie Androids #6)

Chapter 5 #3

Behind us, Washington bids his children and his wife farewell, and she drives off. “I’m heading back inside,”

he says. “You know, you’ve been working hard, Ezra. Take your time, all right? You could use a break.”

Ezra squints at him. “I don’t take breaks.”

“Well, I’m ordering you to take this one.”

Washington gives Ezra a hearty smack on the shoulder and waves, striding back into the office with his food in hand.

Ezra’s bright white eyes rest on me. I’m suddenly second-guessing how smart it was to follow the detective out to say hello. The last thing I need is for Ezra to use his X-ray vision or vital scans to see my heart threatening to jump right out of my chest, thundering in my ears.

My thoughts are on his visit a few days ago. The way he kissed me in a way I’ve never been kissed. I’ll never have another kiss like that again. But then I remember his words, how it was for the best, how true it was and how much that hurt to hear. Now we’re here together again, and I can’t think of a single word to say.

“You look good,”

I manage, trying not to wince. Okay, maybe say something other than that. Great job, Katrina. Way to sound awkward as hell.

Ezra lifts his brows. “Thank you.”

I kick myself harder. “My apologies for not reaching out these past few days. I wasn’t sure if it was wise.”

If my pulse was running before, it’s galloping now. The part of me that knows I’m playing with fire, knows that I’m so far past the don’t-do-it line I can’t even see it anymore. Ezra made himself clear. How he views this as impossible—as I should. Do I want to see him so much because I know I can’t have him?

“It’s okay,”

I reply. “It’s for the best like you said, right? Nothing can come from it. Especially since I want to go to France eventually and, well...you’re not going anywhere.”

“I know,”

Ezra replies. We stand in awkward silence for a moment before he clears his throat. “Well, I should head back. Jayne’s currently analyzing lab results and may require some assistance.”

I’m torn by the truth of our situation and what I want, more than anything. I’ve entered some kind of romantic no-man’s land, still unsure if I’m coming or going. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so attached so quickly, but I did.

“How is Jayne?”

I’m desperate to fill the silence. “She seems really cool. She’s got a neat accent,”

I blurt. My face warms. “When we spoke to her, back at Schroeder’s place.”

He nods a little. For a moment, I suspect he’s relieved I found something else to talk about, something to anchor him here with me, even though we should both be staying as far away from each other as possible. “She’s from the Republic of Ireland. She relocated here to join the ACU, and she’s close to becoming an American citizen.”

“That’s really amazing that the precinct is sponsoring her citizenship.”

I can’t stand dancing around the subject of that kiss, of what his showing up at my front door meant. This tepidness between us seems to be due to our surroundings, but fuck that. Why the hell should I care about what people think now? When I want something, I’ve always gone for it. I’m the go-getter, the freight train, the woman not afraid to put herself out there. It’s how I got to where I am today, how I’ve always conducted myself.

Now? I’m on the precipice. Maybe it’s wrong to want more with Ezra. I know we’re on different paths, but I don’t care. It’s a little scary, but it also feels right.

“Fuck it,”

I mutter to myself. My window of opportunity is closing. I can sense Ezra’s reluctance, the way he lingers, but his duty will call him away eventually. I clear my throat. “Do you want to meet up later?”

His quiet curiosity twists into surprise. “What?”

No going back. I lift my head a little higher. “You apologized for not reaching out, said that it’s not a good idea. But fuck wisdom, okay? Why can’t we just do what we want and tell everything else to go screw itself? I mean, Detective Washington is practically throwing you at me. It should be okay for us to get together and catch up whenever we like.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I don’t care what’s wise and what’s not,”

I reply, driving on while I’m still feeling brave. “I want to spend time with you. I want to talk to you and text you and send you funny pictures of Charlie and puppies and things that make me laugh. I want to hear your opinions on things that matter to you. I want to know how your day is going. And I want to see you. If you don’t want to?—”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,”

Ezra interjects, gazing at me softly. “I’m just concerned it’s a big risk. Feelings could get hurt. I don’t want to be the cause of that.”

Those vibrant white eyes say it all. I don’t want to hurt you . I don’t want to be hurt.

But I cling to my stubbornness like a lifeline. “You said we were friends before.”

“I did. We are. But with you, I’m not sure I can keep that separate.”

“Neither can I. Because you’re too good a man to be just friends with. You’re too interesting,”

I tell him, slipping my hands into the back pockets of my pants. “Because you make me think, and you don’t tell me what I want to hear. You’re intelligent. You’re beyond reproach. You’re every woman’s dream. It’s literally unreal. And...”

“Kat,”

Ezra says. It seems to me his white eyes flash brightly when they rest upon me. Maybe he’s enjoying me making a fool out of myself.

“It’s not enough, saying things like that, right?”

I’m flustered, and I know I sound like an idiot, but we’re past that point. “You want to hear more? Because I can keep going for days. I miss talking with you. I think you’re sexy. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you that night when you and I—you know. And the kiss you surprised me with the other night—I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

I pride myself on my honesty, and this is by far the most honest I’ve ever been. With him. With myself. “I wish you would’ve stayed the other night. I wish there was something I could’ve said or done to make you want to stay,”

I say. “I like what you do, how you act, what you stand for. I got so used to having you around, I really noticed when you were gone. And then when you showed up the other night at my place, it was like something out of a fantasy for me. And call me crazy, but nobody kisses like that if they don’t mean it.”

“Of course I meant it. I can hardly stay away from you as it is,”

Ezra says softly. “I was worried at first, but then seeing you there, I...”

He flexes a fist, looking as though he’s searching for the words. “I lost control.”

My heart flutters when he speaks words I’ve hoped to hear. “Maybe this is new territory for both of us. But I’m not ready to say goodbye to you forever.”

Ezra’s gaze bores through me as he stands silent. He sighs and looks away from me a moment, and each second feels like an eternity passing by. “I don’t want to say goodbye either. But I—I don’t see where this can go. With the nature of my job and the career you want...”

Having never really put myself out there like this, I wasn’t expecting how rejection might feel. I’m embarrassed. Of course he’s approaching this logically. Why would any man stateside go for someone like me when I’m not going to stick around? My courage falters.

“I understand. I’m sorry to have wasted your time again.”

I turn on my heel and begin to walk away, but his hand closes around my arm, and he gently pulls me back.

“Would you stop saying that?”

Ezra says, exasperated. “Don’t leave like this. Please understand. You telling me these things, it means more to me than you could possibly know.”

My throat feels tight. “But,”

I finish for him.

“Kat—”

“It’s okay.”

I keep my head held high, barely holding the facade together. “Really. I understand. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

I walk away, keeping my shoulders square, doing my best to appear calm. I’m retreating, not fleeing.

Ezra calls from behind me, “Katrina!”

I don’t let myself look back as I make my way back to my car. Once in the driver’s seat, I finally let myself exhale, and all the tension leaves my body. It takes me a little while to understand and process his hesitation. That’s when I realize there’s a thousand reasons for him to keep his distance from me, and I, him. They all make sense. Logical. Reasonable. Rational.

I didn’t want to talk to him for those things. Anyone could say there’s a thousand reasons not to be with someone. Especially human beings. We’re flawed, we’re stubborn. But if the connection is there, don’t people make it work? Even if the entire world is against them? What’s the point of all those damn books I used to read if there’s no mirror, no matter how faint, to reality?

I’ll respect his wishes. I’ll stay away. I won’t call unless I need him—no. I don’t think I can even handle that. Not in my current state. I delete his number from my phone so I won’t have the temptation of making myself look foolish again. Then I activate autopilot in my vehicle and direct it to take me home.

Trying to make sense of why my hopes are dashed when I’m not entirely sure what I even wanted, I make my peace with the fact that I shot my shot. I never want to go through life wondering if things could be different, or worse, regret a choice I didn’t make. That’s what matters. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I drive home.

Whatever he wants, I hope he finds it. With a slow exhale, I accept my disappointment, allow myself to be disheartened. With the same breath, I hope Ezra finds happiness with the right person.

Even if it isn’t with me.

“Lights on,”

I say. The lights in my entryway come on first, the rest swiftly following.

“Surprise!”

my parents shout at the same time. My mother rises from the couch, while my father remains seated with a weary smile.

I jump backward, clutching my chest. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

I laugh as my mom embraces me tightly. When I go to the couch and reach for Dad, he does the same. I notice he’s lost a bit of weight, and his movements are slower than usual. “What are you doing here? Is it safe for you to be out yet?”

“I told the NCPD to call off their guard dogs,”

Dad says dismissively. He looks tired, maybe a few more gray hairs around his temples. Part of me is glad he’s still his stubborn self; it means he’s still alive and well. I’m glad he has the good sense to stay off of his feet and take it easy. “I won’t live in fear of these PureEarth psychopaths. “If anything, this is just the edge we need.”

“What’re you talking about?”

I ask. Mom sagely shakes her head at me, but it’s too late.

Dad scoffs. “Well, now I know I’m on the right track, if they want to kill me to keep us silent. I’m not even convinced it was TerraPura. Maybe the government, pretending to be them.”

“And here we go.”

Mom sighs. “Really, Bobby, your conspiracy theories.”

“What?”

Dad says. “It’s true.”

Mom redirects him with a stern sort of affection that I haven’t seen her use on him in some time. “We aren’t here to talk about Humanity First,”

she reminds him. “Anyway, we used the access code you gave us for emergencies. Sorry, not sorry. But we have important news, and we thought we should tell you in person.”

“What news?”

They exchange glances. Mom takes Dad’s hand as he lifts her hand to his lips and plants a kiss on her knuckles.

There’s so much love in that single glance.

Mom’s manners take a somewhat bashful turn, like she’s a teenager asking me permission to go out. “After everything that’s happened, we’ve been talking a lot, and we’ve decided to move to Belmont County.”

“Humanity First has grown so large, there’s no need for me to be in the fray as often as I have been,”

Dad says. “I’m going to do what I should’ve been doing this whole time and focus on family. I’ll step back from the limelight after we’ve finished our fundraising. Let younger leaders take up the cause and keep Humanity First alive.”

“Dad, that’s amazing!”

I exclaim. “You’re making the right decision. Truly. What made you decide to do this?”

“Well, when someone takes a shot at you,”

Dad replies, “you start thinking about things a little differently.”

He leans forward. “I know you’ve got plans of your own, Kat, but you’re my daughter. I wanted to offer it to you first. If you want to take up the mantle, Humanity First is yours.”

My mouth drops open. “Dad . . . I?—”

A sudden loud knock on the door startles all three of us. The power behind it instantly puts us all on edge.

Dad frowns at me. “Were you expecting company, Kat?”

“No,”

I reply. Mom is tense as she goes to the door quietly and peers through the peephole, then turns to me. “It’s the android detective from the precinct.”

“Ezra?”

My body is instantly on pins and needles. He came to see me? But—no, no, I can’t get excited. We said our piece. There’s nothing more to discuss, really. “Maybe there’s been a development in the case, something he wants to tell me about in person. Or it could just be about the pancake event.”

Right. That has to be it.

I open the door, gazing up into his bright white eyes. “Ezra, hi. What are you?—”

“Before you say anything,”

Ezra declares, “I want you to know that when it comes to you, I?—”

“Hello, Detective,”

I say a little louder than I probably need to. “So nice of you to stop by and check on me.”

Ezra stares at me. “What?”

I make a subtle motion behind me, mouthing, My parents . I give him an imploring look.

He rolls his eyes and pinches his brow, then begrudgingly plays along. “Yes, my... handler thought it best I check in from time to time to ensure you’re safe and that there aren’t any suspicious characters skulking about.”

“Not bad,”

I whisper. I can’t resist; I have to rib him, just a little. “Did you just lie?”

Ezra almost looks offended. “I exaggerated.”

“Good of them to send you,”

Dad declares and tries to stand. “I suppose this was always going to happen. Let me take a look at you, Ezra.”

Ezra steps inside, standing uncomfortably straight as my father approaches. He glances at me. I can’t blame him in the slightest. I imagine every man knows that standing in front of a woman’s father is harder than standing in front of a firing squad.

“You’re certainly not a tin can,”

Dad remarks. “Dr. Lewis made a masterpiece.”

“Thank you. I think,’”

Ezra replies. I’m astonished Dad is actually speaking with an android at all. He usually refuses. Even if there aren’t cameras about. “Everything about me is state of the art.”

This exchange isn’t horrifying, but I’m not sure if I should be relieved just yet as my father continues. “I don’t doubt it. Dr. Taylor sees to you, I trust?”

“Yes.”

“She’s a good engineer. I always thought very highly of her,”

Dad replies. “If it’s not too much trouble, I hope you’ll send along my well wishes.”

“I’ll do that,”

Ezra replies. “Though I’m sure it would mean more coming from you directly.”

“Those bridges were burned long ago. I doubt there’s any rebuilding them.”

“Because Dr. Schroeder took credit for me and my creation when I was your design.”

Dad is impressed, glancing at me. “Did Katrina tell you that, or did they show some integrity themselves?”

“Katrina informed me.”

Dad laughs bitterly. “Yes, well, bionics were all helpful, wholesome, once. But people have bastardized them, turned them into weapons, replacements for parents, critical thinking. It’s ironic, how we corrupt everything we touch. I suppose that’s what happens when we play god.”

Ezra glances at me as my father painstakingly heads back to my mother. I offer a little smile.

“At any rate, what information did you wish to impart upon my daughter?”

“Only that we’re getting closer to finding the people responsible for the museum bombing,”

Ezra replies. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s not an interruption at all. We were only stopping by on our way home. Well, home away from home,”

Mom replies, seemingly more relaxed in Ezra’s presence than she was before. She may not hold any love for BioNex, but she’s polite. “We’ll get out of your hair, Kat.”

“But I want to hear the developments,”

my father protests. “I was likely the intended target.”

“You can hear about it later,”

Mom lectures, not letting Dad sit down. “Your father’s supposed to be resting anyway, and if he stays here, no doubt he’ll get worked up about politics and tear his stitching or something.”

She takes my dad’s hand before he can argue and slowly leads him out. “I’ll call you tomorrow,”

she tells me.

“That was awkward,”

Ezra says after they’ve gone. “I should’ve called ahead.”

“Awkward is a step up from hostile,”

I reply. “It’s so weird. He’s usually more abrasive. Maybe it’s the assassination attempt. I guess he did tell me he’s retiring.”

“Retiring?”