Az, none the wiser, takes the long way back to the shop. I can’t get my leg to stop shaking, my breath is quick and shallow, and my shoulders are so tense the bones are almost touching. Blake’s texting me and from Gen’s tone, she’s aware something went wrong. Dev must have called her about the SD card. How the hell am I going to deal with this and not let any info out about Prism? Lie my ass off. Good thing Gen isn’t Mel. I may get away with it.

  A huge maybe.

  My luck isn’t that good.

  Two blocks from the shop, the heavy clouds rip open their stomachs to unleash big, fat drops of rain to obscure the road. Perfect for the abysmal mood I’m in. My holo pings and with a lump in my throat I open the message.

  Blake

  Give it a few days so it is not suspicious, and then text this number to trade the bike. Evangeline will bring the bike today. I’m holding up my end of the bargain, don’t worry.

  Dammit all to hell.

  I refuse to respond.

  I don’t want Blake texting me. It was bad enough when her words were coming through Evangeline. And I don’t even have the bike in my possession yet to trade it, and she’s telling me she needs something done. She’s jumping the gun and it’s not something I can deal with at the moment.

  I need to deal with Gen’s anger.

  Az bumps the truck over the lip of the driveway to the warehouse. He brings the rain-soaked flatbed into its spot and kills the engine. The pound of the rain against the metal roof eases the rushing thoughts in my head, as if each drop is a missile to take them down. I sit, letting numbness and the steady rumble of thunder intertwine with my bones. It roots me to the truck seat; each deep drumbeat forms tendrils to wrap around my heart, cradling it against the heavy burden of life. The muscle beats, steady and strong, continuing life with each roll of the clouds, and marking the passing of time. A moment of respite. It’s what I need after the horrible trip.

  With a sigh, I sit up, breaking the invisible tendrils. I unhook Az and tuck him against my chest and wait for the apprehension to climb into my mind and shred the peace. But the calmness doesn’t leave. It lingers like a kiss upon my cheek, allowing me to take it with me out of the cab of the truck.

  “Time to face the music, Az.” I groan and lean my head against the steering wheel.

  He blinks a deep purple.

  We take the smaller truck back to the shop. The drive doesn’t take long enough, and I haven’t settled on a story by the time Az pulls the smaller truck up to the shop and parks it in the garage. The two of us are crawling out of the cab when the garage door to the shop opens and there, with her arms crossed, stands Gen. Her face rivals the storm outside, eyes dark and clouded, mouth a thin press of lightning, tongue ready to strike.

  “Let me sit down before you lash out for whatever has you so angry. My hip is killing me,” I say, refusing to acknowledge whatever intimidation her standing in the door is supposed to achieve.

  To Gen’s credit, she backs away from the door and lets me through. I hook Az into his small bod and sink into my desk chair. It sighs from my weight, weary of what’s to come.

  Gen paces the other side of the glass cabinets, coming to rest in front of a line of phones from the Silicon Age. Her hands land with a sharp crack on the glass. I don’t flinch. I lean back in the chair and send her a long blink.

  “Would you like to explain why the customer called me to complain about you using an SD card on his computer?”

  “The customer is annoying?” I offer, spreading my hands.

  “We have never used SD cards for installs, Jaqs. What the hell were you doing?” Gen spits out, slapping the cabinet again.

  “Trying something new. I thought it would be quicker. I was wrong and used the holo to download the needed software and set everything up,” I lie.

  The bell over the door tinkles.

  “Bullshit,” Gen snarls.

  And there, walking through the makeshift aisle of bots—because the universe hates me—is Evangeline. She holds a neon pink paper cup of coffee, which contrasts with her electric blue athletic wear and lime green puffy coat. She’s a bright beacon. My savior.

  “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, eyebrow rising.

  Gen stiffens and turns with a snarl. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to Jaqs,” Evangeline answers with a shrug. “I can wait until you two are done.”

  “We’re done,” I say, standing.

  “Jaqs, sit back down, we are not done,” Gen snaps.

  “We’re done enough. Why don’t you cool down while I talk to Evangeline?” I answer coolly, sending an icy gaze Gen’s way.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The cane thunks against the stained cement, threatening the thunder outside into submission under the overwhelming swell of my anger. Evangeline shoots me a questioning look, but I shake my head. Not in here. Not anywhere near here if I had my way. I press open the door and round the corner to huddle against the side of the building, away from the windows, but still under the overhang to protect us from the rain—Evangeline whistles, low and long.

  “What on earth was that?” she asks.

  “Dev was super suspicious about the SD card, and I guess he called Gen about it.”

  “He saw?” Evangeline asks.

  “Yes, he saw! I told you, I’m not a super-secret spy or something.” I throw my hands in the air and drag the one not holding my cane down my face. “The SD card installed the program, and I told him it was a way to control the bots. Of course, it wasn’t working, and when I said I’d try the program over a holo connection, he got suspicious.”

  Evangeline gives a thoughtful hum. “He’s a paranoid guy, that’s for sure.”

  “And confident. He had a picture on his desk of himself with a woman. And unless his wife is in her twenties, it wasn’t her.”

  “Paranoid and stupid, interesting combo. But you did what was asked of you. The program will run and will hide from uninstall software. Since you completed your end of the bargain, I am completing mine. It’s parked over there. Sorry for the surprise visit, but I wanted to get it to you myself.” Evangeline points across the street.

  There, parked in the pitter-patter of the rain, is a motorcycle. Its hot pink body and inlaid LEDs, flickering through the colors, throw back the gloom of the day. It rests on a kickstand, the rain dripping off the bright white seat and electronics panel onto the cracked pavement.

  I almost tell Evangeline that Blake told me she was coming. That she’s texting me like I’m her employee. Something gnaws at me to not mention it. It’s best to keep it to myself until I get something suspicious from Blake. It’s all been innocent so far—well, for Blake. And I already have one thing going wrong inside the shop, I don’t need something going wrong out here. I draw on my infinite wisdom.

  “A motorcycle,” I say, brain returning an error message from the input request to be smart.

  “Glad your eyes are not only beautiful, but work,” Evangeline replies with a smirk.

  A blush heats my cheeks. I rub the back of my neck. “I love seeing you, but why did you bring it? Why not the wife?”

  “Blake doesn’t want you visiting with that many people yet.”

  “Blake doesn’t trust a lot of people, does she?”

  Evangeline shakes her head. “It’s due to me. She no longer trusts me.”

  My head snaps up from the crack in the sidewalk I was investigating. “What? Why?”

  Evangeline shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. We’re making good progress. I’m finding files that I need. Hopefully, as we continue your trades, Blake continues to grant me access to systems.”

  “You mean hopefully she thinks you’re falling back into the fold.”

  Evangeline grimaces. “Yeah.”

  “You doing OK?” I ask.

  “Yeah, don’t worry about me. Go see your newest acquisition.”

  I wander across the empty street despite the rain and caress the bike. The coolness of the metal slips into my fingers, claiming the warmth trapped there. The bike is a beautiful piece of machinery with sleek lines arching to dangerous points. The screen illuminates the bars of whatever music Evangeline has playing, but it’s turned down too low. It’s a silly function, but something I wish Az had in his bike form.

  He’s gonna be pissed if he sees me ogling this.

  I glance at the shop.

  Az is in the window. His small hands are balled, his core light flashing red. While the bike is nice, I would never abandon Az. He’s my bot. I take a few pictures of it to put online later. And so Az believes me that I’m going to trade it. Something must show on my face when I return to Evangeline because she smirks.

  She passes over the small fob that acts as the key. “Gonna keep it?”

  “Tempting, but I did that to one trade item already,” I say, tossing the fob in one hand. “This one is getting listed as soon as I’m done with whatever is awaiting me inside.”

  Evangeline leans against the wall, crossing her ankles out in front of her. “Well, you have something to look forward to at least, right?”

  My tongue darts out to lick my lips. I’ve forgotten something. Shit.

  “The date? You didn’t forget, did you.” Her brows crease.

  Oh no. Oh God. It slipped my mind, and I’ve hurt her. Again. My throat tightens, a precursor to tears. “No! Today has been a lot is all. Hope you’re ready for the neon festival.”

  A gentle smile takes Evangeline’s lips, unsure and unstable about existing. I reach out a tentative hand and brush my fingers against hers. She turns her hand over, and mine slips into it. Her tears never come.

  “It’ll be a lot of fun,” I say. “I’m excited.”

  “Are you?” Evangeline’s voice is small and hesitant.

  I squeeze her hand. “Yep. Positive. I better go back in there before Gen has an aneurysm.”

  “It may not be my place to say,” Evangeline starts, “but she has anger issues.”

  “Yeah, life hasn’t been easy for her.”

  “That doesn’t give her an excuse to take it out on you.”

  I take my hand back and rub the back of my neck. “I need to have a talk with her about it. Now may not be the time.”

  “Good luck with your conversation,” Evangeline says. Lightning quick, she rocks forward and kisses my cheek.

  She shrugs her shoulders up around her ears and saunters away. My hand rises without my own volition and touches my cheek. The kiss burns white hot. A brand that fills my heart and makes it thrum.

  I’m so screwed.

  With one long, wanting gaze at Evangeline, I reenter the shop. Az rounds on me, his core light a staccato of red. Quick, and sharp, as if he’s yelling.

  “I’m trading it bud, I promise. You’re the only motorcycle for me.”

  Az blinks azure, considering.

  “What the hell was that?” Gen asks, emerging from the back of the shop. At least she wasn’t spying on us. But her incessant questioning and tone are shredding my last nerves finer than stardust. Evangeline is right. This has gone on too long.

  Az turns green and runs off to one of the boxes on a lower shelf. He half submerges his body in it, searching for something. I cross over to the main counter and lean on it, taking weight from my hip. It offers little comfort and in retaliation for the movement my ribs twinge, stealing my breath. Fuck this body and its betrayal.

  “She traded me a motorcycle,” I answer, through gritted teeth.

  “For what?”

  “For the sign you traded me.” She’s not entitled to the truth. Not even as my boss or friend. My blood simmers, the anger flooding into my veins at the way this conversation is going.

  “How many times do I have to tell you how dangerous she is.” Gen crosses her arms, ready to begin the fight anew.

  “Yeah, that’s what you say, but you’ve never given a reason,” I snap. The stabbing pain in my ribs isn’t going away. Dammit, I hate what I have to do next. I suck in a deep breath, expanding my lungs to bursting, my brain screaming through the pain. Something pops and the stabbing subsides to a dull ache.

  Gen’s anger doesn’t. It remains white hot and vicious, tearing through the air between us and igniting the molecules to form an uneasy tension that builds and builds and builds, waiting for the snap that will ease it.

  I’m ready to be the catalyst for that.