Rich Kid (The SPARK Files #3)

Chapter 21

Volt

Volt wandered through the lounge, watering the plants. They were his special babies, even if everyone looked past them as part of the background scenery. Living things he could take care of and nurture without any other expectations or restrictions on his love.

They were all happy and healthy today, especially two that he’d moved a bit closer to the plant lamps in the ceiling that he turned on for them when customers weren’t around.

He tried to keep all of his focus on the plants and not worry about the fact that he hadn’t seen Wallace since they’d agreed on the date.

That actually wouldn’t have been so bad—it wasn’t like Wallace stopped by every day, and it was only Wednesday—but Wallace hadn’t been sending his normal texts and photos either.

It had Volt antsy. On edge. Disconnected.

As Wallace’s Daddy, he could have demanded it. He was almost certain it would be the right thing.

But there was still this little bit of him that kept expecting Wallace to turn out to be another Sadie. Or Bobby.

It had been easy to step in and be Wallace’s Daddy when it was just for fun. When it was something to pass the time while filling some of Volt’s needs and helping somebody out, something with clear-cut boundaries set by the transactional nature of their relationship.

It was entirely different now that he was actually allowing himself to hope it could possibly be something more.

So he’d taken the coward’s way out and not prompted his boy for texts that apparently weren’t going to be coming.

But with the deafening silence between them, he was kind of wishing that he’d picked Saturday instead of Sunday. Or even a week night. Today. He knew Angel had told him he’d be fine on his own for an evening if Volt wanted to step out, and even while the thought of taking a night off left him feeling guilty and jittering with nerves, he would have done it if Wallace had said yes to an earlier date.

Asking Wallace to reschedule seemed a little too over the top, though. Desperate.

So he’d just have to deal with the silence between them and wait for the weekend. That was all. He’d have to be patient .

Which didn’t stop him from scanning the camera feeds out front in case he caught a glimpse of a cute, round face and an adorable bow tie.

No luck.

Did that mean Wallace had lost interest ,or was he just waiting for his Daddy to step back in and take charge?

Volt wasn’t used to feeling this kind of uncertainty. He already knew that what they’d had before had been… damaged. Assuming Wallace wanted to continue being his boy after their date on Sunday, they’d need to start the whole thing over again. Come up with a new list of negotiations and limits and so on before they could continue.

And Wallace still might not want what Volt was offering.

The thought made him feel things that weren’t helpful right now, so he pushed it aside and refocused on his plant babies, continuing around the room and making sure that each of his little charges got exactly the right amount of water and not a drop more.

He could feel eyes on him—that was only to be expected, as most of the clients didn’t even realize he was a spark and not available right now—but he ignored them. He wore his signature loincloth because it drew the eye and got people in the mood for Prism’s merchandise, but also made him look similar enough to the other bots that no one paid him a second thought.

He’d also found that it made him look just busy enough that customers usually didn’t ask for him, because he wouldn’t meet their eyes to get a signal to follow them up the stairs. It was a great way to listen in on conversations and get the pulse of the room.

Except right now his thoughts were far enough away that it took Angel sending him an urgent ping before he tuned in to the commotion right inside the front door.

“Imma use one a them bots, and you can’t tell me no different!” That was the largest of the three red-faced men, waving on his feet in obvious inebriation.

“Yeah, it says here,” shouted another one, waving a piece of paper in Angel’s face.

Volt had faintly heard the three drunks outside, but he’d paid them no mind, assuming they were on their way home from a bar and no business of his.

Now, he raced over to the door while giving instructions for two of the bots from the lounge—male obviously, because they would look more intimidating to these peabrains—to stand behind him.

Angel stepped right up to the second man, the picture of calm, even while he was sending bursts of worry to Volt over their silent connection. “I believe you might be mistaken, sir. Can you show me what you’re holding?”

Volt watched, with his own eyes and from the camera mounted closest to the door, as the man thrust a small square of paper toward Angel’s chin.

Angel took it carefully, then shot Volt a photo of the card.

It was printed on glossy, cream-colored paper with the Prism logo at the top. Below, in the font that Volt used for their advertising, it read, “Sexbots for every desire. One hour free with this coupon.” Then in smaller letters, “See back for additional terms and conditions.”

What the fuck? Volt sent back to Angel. Where did that come from?

If you didn’t make it, I have no idea. I don’t even know how to make those things.

They’d hired out to a design house to do their marketing materials before Volt took over a few years ago, and they’d certainly never requested anything like this.

I would never make something like that, Volt swore. If I needed to comp a customer, I’d do it through the registration system. We don’t just give out free samples like a grocery store. I have that ten percent off coupon running in a few different places and on the brochures, but that’s totally different.

“Where did you get this, sir?” Angel asked the man smoothly.

“Guy was giving them out at the bar. Says Prism on it. There’s even a map. That’s the place, right here. And he said we could use them right now.”

Angel flipped the card over, shooting Volt another picture. There was the same small map that Volt used on the back of the brochures, and even the same boilerplate terms and conditions language that went with his usual advertisements, covering reservations, credit checks, and wait times.

That’s copied from the brochure, he told Angel. It looks just like our stuff but it’s not.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I believe this is a bit of a… practical joke. These aren’t real coupons. If you’d like to book an experience, our rates are listed on…”

Angel’s voice was lost among the shouts. “That’s bullshit” and “you cheap whore” and more that Volt didn’t want to hear. Didn’t want Angel to hear.

Let alone Magnolia upstairs, who they’d eventually need to tell everything to, and who’d demand to look at the tapes herself.

Volt stepped forward, commanding the two bots behind him to flank him. He set their faces to the cold Dominant setting, the closest he could get to actual intimidation with their legal settings. He’d installed some illegal mods for martial arts a few years ago, but he wasn’t going to flaunt them if he could avoid it. “I need to ask you gentlemen to leave. Now.”

“That’s discrimination!” one shouted, spittle flying from his lips.

“We’re gonna tank you for this,” another yelled. “Printing coupons and then saying they’re fake. We’ll tell everybody.”

“You can’t kick us out!” came from the third. “I’ve got rights!”

Volt and his sexbot army of two stepped forward, herding the men back. “I think that you’ll find, gentlemen, that this is private property and that we can remove unruly customers at our discretion. And you will be leaving now.” He took another step, then a third.

Angel rushed around behind them to hold open the door.

One of the men threw a punch at a bot, knocking it backward. Volt received an automated alert about the damage, but it seemed to be minor enough. He had the bot keep moving.

“Fuck, it’s a bot!” the man said, cradling his hand.

What the hell had he been expecting?

The other two seemed to be more bluster than bravery, or maybe too drunk to notice they’d been pushed right out the door. Angel slid back inside, pulling it shut with a clang, and Volt set the magnetic lock with a thought.

What the hell? Angel asked Volt.

No clue. What I want to know is what to do now. How many do you think they gave out?

Angel shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them. The internet says to put up visible signage informing customers of fake or mistaken coupons before they try to use them.

Thank fucking god for the internet, Volt replied. I’ll put them up now. What he really meant was that he would send a bot upstairs with instructions to fetch the papers he was already sending to the printer and tape them to the door. It was a little more complex than doing it himself, but he didn’t want to leave Angel alone right now. What else?

Angel looked around the room. Damage control. Guess that’s on me. He turned to face the room. “Our apologies for the disruption to your evening. As you may have heard, it seems that someone has printed fake coupons, which will not be honored as they were not created by our company. To make your evening more pleasant, we’ll be deducting ten percent from your bill on any experiences you choose to partake in this evening.”

There were quiet murmurs around the room, but none of the current clientele made a move to leave. He knew that the discount was a good idea… even if it meant more money down the drain.

Volt took a microsecond to center himself. No, this was still good. Ten percent wasn’t as big a loss as if they’d all actually left.

“For your safety,” Angel continued, “we’ll ask you to please wait until the area in front of the building is clear before leaving, and call your car to pick you up at the door. Please let me know if you would like me to help you arrange transportation or have any other needs.”

Thank goodness Angel was so good at this, because Volt wouldn’t have known where to start.

A few customers stood up and walked toward the desk. Volt released the two bots to return to their default programming of strutting around the lounge and making sexually-laden but meaningless conversation with the customers until they made a choice and went upstairs.

He took a few steps back, hoping to fade into the background, while checking the full set of security cameras outside. Drunk, entitled men could mean a lot of problems.

What he found, though, wasn’t them, but Jaya.

Or at least it looked like her, from the shape of her shoulders and the thick, black braid sneaking out the front of it.

He flashed an image to Angel.

Get her inside, quick, Angel told him. I don’t want her outside.

Yeah, the last thing they needed was more complexity right now. At least Magnolia was back now. He checked her camera feed and saw that she was awake, so he sent up a short verbal inquiry through the room’s speakers.

“I’ll be right down,” she told him, turning to the assigned bot in her room with a set of instructions before taking a breath.

He left her to it, striding toward the back door. “Jaya?”

She stumbled back, surprised. He probably should have let her ring the bell before opening it.

She gave him a nod. “Volt.” She was doing that thing again, making her shoulders smaller.

“Come in, come in,” he motioned to her. “There’s been some… unpleasant activity recently.”

That got her moving quickly.

He led her to the kitchen again. “Can I get you something to eat again?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re never a bother,” he told her. He sent a mental instruction to the chefbot. Traditional Indian dishes seemed to give her a sense of home and safety, or at least let her know that they cared enough to take her preferences into account.

The chefbot lurched to life behind him, but he ignored its usual hum and clatter as he guided her to the table and took a seat opposite. “Magnolia will be downstairs in a bit, but I’ve got good news for you.”

He could see the war on her face, wanting to be excited, but not yet willing to trust it.

“There’s a plan in place to get you and Anish out.” He sent a query toward Angel, who sent back the information in a file. Volt basically read it out loud. “We’ve got a burner phone ready for you.” He sent a query about the phone to Angel, who just replied Magnolia. Good enough.

“To contact…”

It took only a fraction of a second to scan through the logistics Angel had set up. “The people who will be helping you. You’re going to let them know when you can show up to Anish’s school and say that he’s got a doctor’s appointment. They’ll go with you to get your son, then move you somewhere outside the city where you can both stay until you figure out what to do next.”

Tears welled in the corner of her eyes, but she just nodded her head. “Thank you. I… thank you.”

Volt shrugged. “I just made the connections. You focus on taking care of your son.”

Jaya blinked back tears again, and he was worried she was going to break down. He couldn’t imagine the stain she’d been under.

The chefbot placed a smoothie on the table. “Nutrient protein drink number three, mango tango.”

“Get your energy up,” he told her gently. He could smell the curry that would be ready soon. “Eat as much as you need. Anish needs you to be strong.”

“Thank you, Volt. I can’t… Just, thank you.”

“No problem. Really. Just tell others about us if you can. If it’s safe for you, that is. We’re here. And there are some folks who would appreciate it if you would be willing to testify if they can bring a case forward one day, but that is completely your choice. You don’t owe anyone for anything.”

He heard Magnolia’s wheelchair behind him, pushed by the Calliope model. “Hello, dear,” she greeted Jaya. “I’m Magnolia.” Then she burst into a fit of coughs.

He watched Jaya’s eyes widen. “ You’re Magnolia? But you’re…”

He already knew what she was seeing. Shrunken, bird-like limbs. Shaky, veined hands. A frail body, hunched over in a wheelchair.

“Older than dirt?” Magnolia snorted. “I was hooking before your granny was born. With an asshole of a pimp. And look where I am now.” She gestured, shakily, toward the pristine kitchen, encompassing Volt in her purview.

Jaya’s elegantly painted eyes went wide.

Volt gently squeezed Magnolia’s shoulder as he stood. “Have you got this? I think Angel wanted me to look at something.”

She lifted her hand, slowly settling it over his, her skin as light as butterfly wings. “I’ve got this. Time for some girl talk. You go keep Angel company.”

He gave her another squeeze. “Alright. Holler if you need anything.”

“I need you to call that boy.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re going on a date on Sunday.” And now that was all he could think about again.

Well, not all. There was all so much bubbling up around him—the fake coupons, Jaya, whether Wallace would be interested in an actual relationship…

Did Volt really have time for a relationship?

Maybe not, with everything so chaotic at Prism. But perhaps that was moot anyway. Perhaps Wallace wasn’t really interested in him, since he hadn’t done any check ins all week.

“Sunday is still a few days away,” Magnolia pointed out, a gleam in her eye. “You could still call him now.”

Jaya’s eyes flew between them like she was watching a ping-pong match.

“I’ll think about it,” Volt said, even though he probably wouldn’t. He really needed to see Wallace in person for what he wanted to say. To see his face. Monitor his pulse.

Hopefully, hold him in his arms.

Magnolia winked. “Or… you could just call him.”

Volt’s fans whirred faster, and he made a non-committal sound as left the room, Magnolia’s breathy laughter trailing after him.