Mila 2.0: Renegade

I nodded jerkily, like something was suddenly wrong with one of my mechanisms. “I know. I meant she … she left me behind.”

Mom’s broken body appeared behind my eyes. I saw her sinking into the depths of the Potomac, and her voice echoed in my ears.

Find Richard Grady … he knows …

Her last words, right before one of Holland’s bullets killed her.

Holland. Just the name ignited a fiery, churning hatred within my core.

My fingertips had been sliding down the smooth glass, but now they pushed harder, full of pent-up frustration. The window creaked in protest, and I hastily yanked my hand away.

“So does this Grady guy live in Virginia?” Hunter asked. “Is that why you’re here?”

“I thought he was. I’d found some information, but it turned out to be a dead end.”

Please don’t ask me any more questions. I don’t know how many more lies I can tell you.

My back still to him, I said, “Anyway, thank you so much for coming. The thought of continuing to do this on my own … it just … thank you.”

I heard the bed creak, heard his soft footfalls. I spun around to face Hunter. His soulful eyes, filled with compassion and understanding, nearly had me confessing everything. In this moment, I wanted to believe he could accept what I was, but in the likelihood that he couldn’t, the dangers to me would increase. Again I tried to reassure myself that my lies offered him a shield of protection as well. He couldn’t reveal what he didn’t know.

“Any time,” he said gently. “I could tell when you called that something bad had happened. I can’t believe she went to Germany without you. Who does that?”

“Well, I can meet her there, if I want to, but I’m not sure if I do,” I said, hoping to salvage some sliver of Hunter’s respect for my mom. “I know being adopted isn’t the end of the world, but I have a right to meet my real father, and she just didn’t see it that way.”

“I don’t blame you for wanting to find him. It sucks that your mom never told you the truth.” Then he cocked his head, like he was noticing something strange.

“What?” I demanded, inwardly panicking. Had he seen me crack the windowsill?

“Nothing. It’s just—don’t be mad, but based on how jumpy you’ve been, I was sort of expecting something a little crazier. Like your mom was abducted by aliens.”

I stared at him incredulously for a moment, before losing it. “I can’t even—” I gasped, trying to talk through the laughter and failing.

“What can I say? I had a crush on Scully from The X-Files growing up.”

The ball of tension that hadn’t left my gut since I’d been on the run was beginning to disintegrate. “You hide it well, Hunter Lowe, but you are a total nerd.”

His eyes suddenly filled with shock, and he glanced toward the window. I was on instant alert again. “What?” I said, listening intently, pulse starting to pound in my ears.

No human threat detected.

A car, a group of kids in the distance, the faint rumble of the ocean. Nothing of concern.

“Shhh, be careful how loud you say that. I don’t want my secret getting out.”

I groaned. “Hate to tell you, but it’s too late for that.”

“Those are fighting words.” With a mischievous smile, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me toward him, whirling me around at the last second until my back was pressed firmly against his chest. One of his arms wrapped loosely around my neck, the other around my waist.

I stiffened at first—hello, there was a cute boy pressed against me—but then the sensation of belonging coursed through me, too potent to resist. I closed my eyes, savoring the solid feel of his body. This … this was exactly what I needed. Hunter was exactly what I needed.

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t leave you behind. I’ll be with you every step of the way, if you let me.”

Hearing him say that, I didn’t think I could ever feel so amazing and awful at the same time.

“We should probably get some sleep, since we’ll be on the road tomorrow,” I said.

I slipped under the covers of my bed and despite everything, I was completely conscious that he was climbing into the next bed over. Heat fanned itself through my arms and legs, a feeling that I was pretty sure had nothing to do with the slight weight of the frayed blue comforter.

“Good night, Mila.”

“Good night.”

I clicked off the light and willed my body to relax in the darkened room.

Night vision: Activated.

With the help of one of my android functions, everything blazed back into view. Ugh, so not helping. Meanwhile, Hunter’s breathing turned rhythmic and slow and for the first time I could remember, I envied him.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Take that, stupid night vision. But the blackness only sent my tension skyrocketing. Because instead of seeing our motel room, now I was remembering a different one. The last time I’d stayed in a motel, Mom and I had been woken in the middle of the night by scouts from the Vita Obscura, an organization that wanted to gut me like a fish to see how I worked—and then sell my technology to the highest bidder. We escaped, but who was to say it couldn’t happen again?

A perfect image burst into my head. Mom tackling one of the men, binding his hands with a zip tie. Mom, back at Clearwater Ranch, her long blond hair pulled back into a practical ponytail as she headed to the barn.

Mom, staring at me as the light in her blue eyes faded.

A sob unfurled and I put a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle it. No good. The other bed creaked. I heard Hunter’s bare feet pad onto the carpet, and then a moment later his arms surrounded me.

I went rigid at first—I’d never been in bed with a boy or been held this tightly before—but as he whispered, “Shhhh, it’s going to be okay,” I gradually snuggled against him.

My back fit against his chest so perfectly, and oh god, he was so warm. I could feel his breath ruffling my hair. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to turn over and be face-to-face, to feel his lips graze mine.

I lay silently for a moment, summoning up the courage to do just that. Minutes passed and after a while, his body felt heavy against mine. Had he fallen asleep again?

A whirring in my brain, and then the red lights flashed:

Pulse: 48 bpm.

Breathing rate: 8 bpm.

Sleep state: Likely.

Leave it to my android functions to remind me that really, truly being with Hunter was something that would never be possible.

After ten minutes of lying there, motionless, I eased myself out from under his right arm, my body freezing when his breathing altered. But it evened out again, so I slipped to my feet, feeling his fingertips slide against my arm before falling away, the loss of physical contact both freeing and terrifying at the same time. A sharp pang almost made me climb back in and nestle up against him.

But the strange room, the noises, even Hunter’s presence—everything was foreign and the ghost of the past still hung over me. Sadness, anger, fear … a whirlwind of emotions threatened to consume me, and a giant android self-implosion was about the last thing I wanted to foist onto Hunter right now.

Grabbing the key from the bureau, I put on my shoes and crept to the door.