by Pearl Foxx
“I’m trying to find Imogen.” He stuttered. “I need her.”
Enver’s eyes widened. “You’re Hiram.”
“How do you know my name?” His face wrenched in disdain. “How dare you speak my name you—”
Enver stepped closer and gripped the front of Hiram’s coat. “She doesn’t want you. You made it clear in the city you didn’t want her anymore either. So, get the fuck out.”
“I need her!” Hiram’s panic turned to a crazed look. “You don’t understand! I am her Adam, she is my Eve.”
Enver gritted his teeth, a newfound rage building hotter with every word Hiram spewed. “There’s no place for her in the compound, face it. If you love her like you say you do, you know she belongs here.”
Hiram shook his head, laughter building, “You’re delusional. Who would ever want to live here?”
Enver jerked Hiram forward then bashed his back against the wall.
The laughter stopped.
“She’s tricked you.” He switched tactics, though nothing would work. Enver held nothing more than than broken husk of what used to be a sane person in his hands. “I’ll take her back home. I can go back home as long as I have her with me. I’ll take the bitch off your hands and get rid of her! Promise!”
“You’ve lost your mind.” He released Hiram with a sigh. The medic in Enver knew arguing with someone this broken was a waste of time. “If they made that deal, they want her more than you. These aren’t the forgiving kind of people.”
Enver turned his back on Hiram. The man was desperate, but no threat to a trained vet like him. Instead of wasting his time he refocused on the victim lying on the cot.
Hiram had figured out Imogen worked in the Ward so he had hurt someone to get in here without being questioned. His mind had clearly shattered, the logic of just fucking coming in and asking like a normal person beyond him. If anything, Enver felt sorry for him.
A primal scream burst from the corner. Enver turned in time for Hiram to crash into him, throwing him across his injured patient. Hiram’s skull knocked into his injured ribs, the heat of pain roared through Enver.
“I’m taking what’s mine!” The medical tray spilled across the floor, instruments skittering as they fell across the tile. “Give me Imogen!”
Between the searing pain and Hiram’s flailing punches, Enver could no longer contain his rage. He grabbed Hiram by the throat and tossed him to the side. He smacked against the wall hard before hitting the floor.
Enver stood, the man beneath him on the cot waking up from the jostling. Enver turned to Hiram who scooted backwards away from the irate cyborg. He reached down and took hold of Hiram’s neck. He lifted him high, pressing him against the wall.
Hiram’s feet dangled inches off the ground. He gurgled, eyes bulging as the flow of oxygen could no longer find its way to his lungs.
“Enver!” Imogen’s voice cut through the blinding rage and he dropped Hiram. “What in the hell is going o— Hiram?”
She stood in the doorway, eyes unreadable as she took in the scene before her.
“Imogen…” Hiram croaked, a sinister smile on his face and tears in his eyes. “I’m here.”
Enver grabbed his side, pressing against the growing pain. He fought the weak sensation in his legs.
“Enver!” Imogen ignored the broken man on the floor. “Are you going to be ok?”
“Sorry…” he snorted, “You said I should fight.” He tried to laugh, but the sharp pain ended his attempt. “He came for you.”
Imogen’s face crumbled. She turned to face Hiram and Enver’s heart clenched. He wanted her all to himself, not even to share a room with that son of a bitch.
Hiram pulled himself to his feet, leaning on the wall and rubbing his neck.
“Hiram, why are you here for me now?’’ She kept her distance, his excited smile put Enver on edge. “You pulled a knife on me. The things you said…”
Her eyes fell to the blade on the floor. Enver watched as her eyes widened before she turned to him, scanning him over until she found the cut fabric and the metal arm shining beneath it. Blood rushed to her face.
“You pulled a knife on me and now on Enver? I don’t even know who you are anymore. Did I ever?”
“We can leave this shithole, Imogen.” He pleaded, reaching his hands out to her. “You don’t have to live like this anymore. We can be together again.”
She frowned, stepping closer to Enver. “Is that what the elder’s told you? That we’d be allowed to be together? Or did they want you to bring me back so you got to go home?”
The smile dropped off Hiram’s face and his tone turned dark, “Listen here, you bitch. I’m going home and if that means I have to drag your ass back to the compound by your stupid short hair, I will. You’re not going to ruin my life twice.”
Enver stood and Hiram winced. “Get the fuck out.”
“Hiram,” Imogen said. His panicked eyes finally met hers. “I’m sorry I never realized how weak you were. I’m not going back there. I belong here now. You should try to start over.”
“Fuck you!” He waved his arm pushing the suggestion away as if it were a hornet. “Why the fuck would anyone want to live here? It’s everything we were raised to resist. The temptation, the excess, the technology. This is hell on Earth.”
Enver crossed the room with speed even he didn’t know he was capable of. He grabbed Hiram’s shirt in a fist, and shoved him out of the Ward.
Imogen followed close on his heels as he dragged the broken man into the street. Flinging him to the dirt, Enver’s chest rose and fell with the pulse of pure anger.
“You have your answer, now leave. Don’t ever fucking step foot in the deadlands again.”
Enver took Imogen’s arm, pulling her inside.
I won’t let him have you.
“Enver.” She broke through her shock, realizing he was wheezing. “Your ribs.”
“I’m fine…” Sweat poured off him as he rode out the pain. His head spun and his balance faltered, but he held on to Imogen. He did it all for her. “I’m fine…”
“You’re not!” She broke free, glaring at him. “You’re repeating yourself, lift your shirt.”
He gave her a reluctant look. “No.” He started for the stairs. “I just need to lay down.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone until I see…”
He halted, interrupting her words.
“I know. I want you to come with me.” He didn’t check to see if she’d followed, he still seethed and the sharp sting of every breath and step was torture. “The ace bandage should still be on my dresser.”
She fell silent, following him to his room and slamming the door behind them. Enver wasted no time pulling off his shirt, a grunt breaking through as he raised his arms. The cracked ribs were already changing color, Hiram had managed to undo the healing done so far.
When he sat on the edge of the bed, hissing as he did so, he caught a glimpse of Imogen’s face.
“Why are you crying?” He gave her his best half-hearted smile. “You didn’t crack your ribs for a second time, I did.”
“This is my fault.” She whispered, climbing behind him and wrapping the bandage around his injury once more. “I chased after Hiram back then. If I hadn’t, he would have never known to come here for me.”
“Stop it.” He grabbed her hand after it pinned the bandage in place and kissed her fingers. “He’s gone now. I don’t think he has the balls to brave coming back to face me again.”
“I hope not.” She jolted to her feet, “Oh no, we left a mess downstairs.”
He grabbed her, yanking her back on the bed beside him. “Leave it. The patient is fine and it’s nothing that can’t wait.”
He rolled an arm around her, forcing her to lay down next to him. “Lay here with me.”
“I don’t think you should be getting frisky—”
He laughed, nuzzling her neck. “We don’t have to fuck every time we lay in my bed, Imogen.” He could
feel the heat of her blushing. “Just lay here, so I know your safe.”
“But I have work—” He squeezed her tighter. “And you won’t rest if I stay here.”
“I will, I promise,” he said, placing a kiss against her jaw.
She ran her hand across his cybernetic arm until her finger found the nick Hiram’s blade had left behind. “Part of me wishes I had seen his face when he landed this hit.”
Enver smiled, kissing her cheek. “He was definitely close to pissing his pants when the knife just snapped off.”
She rolled to face Enver nose to nose. “For the record, I refuse to mend the same injury for the rest of our days.”
He laughed, then winced. “I’m never cracking my ribs again, I promise.”
“Good.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “You were so angry.”
His smile faded. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I won’t—”
She kissed him, her tongue reaching out to him before pulling back. “You didn’t scare me. I felt… safe.”
Rubbing his forehead with hers, he sighed.
Sleep weighed him down, his ribs throbbing.
Imogen kissed his lips, softly this time, before cuddling close against his collarbone. He tried to take in a deep breath, but his body refused. The heat of her body echoed into his own, sleep pulling him further into the abyss of darkness. Every time he was injured like this, his body wanted to lose itself to slumber. Perhaps the nanites in his bloodstream working to heal him had something to do with this, but he had her in his arms. His world was safe, there beside him.
Knock. Knock. Knock
“Are you ok, Enver?” A voice shouted through the door. Sounded like Chance. Good. He would take care of things while he slept. “Downstairs is a fucking shit show and the patients say there was a fight.”
“He’s resting.” Imogen shouted into his chest. “A man attacked him, but he’s ok.”
He wanted to call back, but he couldn’t pry his eyes open.
Flashes of the war raced through his mind. He had been trained on par with the other soldiers, plus received essentially full medical training as a medic. The insanity in Hiram’s eyes was no different than those from his past, people who saw nothing more than a cyborg trained to kill. Worse, the short encounter and rise in anger had fueled his other secret worry. He feared nothing more than becoming one of them, one of the shattered remains of what used to be a man.
Imogen was his lifeline, the one thing in his miserable existence keeping his head above water. If he lost her, he may never be able to find his way out of the nightmares he saw every time he slept.
She shifted under his arm and his heart fluttered. She pulled the cover over him and shoved her back against his body. He spooned her, holding her as tight as he dared and rubbing his face in the back of her head.
He never wanted to leave this moment.
Chapter 21
Imogen
Imogen’s eyes fluttered as she woke. Enver had pulled her tight against him and his heat wrapped around her like a dream. She sat up and he didn’t budge or react to the shifting of the mattress. The Ace bandage hid most of his torso, but angry blotches of red peeked out from the edges. He might have cracked a rib again or broken one this time. Whether it was the impact of Hiram’s tackle or pinning a full grown man by one arm off the ground was hard to say.
Convinced he was asleep deep enough not to wake and chase after her, she went downstairs to see what had happened after they’d tossed Hiram out.
“Hey.” She had peeked down the hall and found Chance changing the bandage on Hiram’s victim. “Is he ok?”
“I should be asking you that question.” Chance gave a knowing side glance and turned back to the patient. “Besides the gouge in your head, you seem to be good to go, man.”
The man grunted. “Hiram better not show his face at the Ball & Joint again if he wants to live.” Shoving pass Chance, the man was even wider than the intimidating Cyborg.
Imogen stepped out of his way. He gave her an angry glare and she could practically feel the blame laid on her for Hiram’s behavior.
“I’m sorry for the trouble,” she mumbled, staring at the ground.
“Imogen,” Chance waited for her to tilt her eyes up and then held her gaze until she had to turn away. “You didn’t make this happen. Enver would never forgive me if I let you blame yourself for some lunatic’s actions.”
“Did he come back?”
“No, I think Enver took care of that. I’ve been here for a while and I can stay, I already commed Hollywood to handle things at the Ball & Joint tonight.” He rolled one shoulder before stretching from sitting for so long. “I can handle most of the minor shit coming through the doors. I even do pretty clean stitches. Comes with the territory of being a cyborg. You just do what you need to to make sure that fucker upstairs doesn’t hurt himself again.”
“Thank you, Chance.” She started for the door. “It was good timing when you came.”
“Enver sent a message, said he got himself in a bind. And you know he never asks for help, so I came right over.” He gave a wink and smirk.
Glancing at the floor, she noticed the broken blade was gone. The wall had marks from where Hiram had been slung against it. She had heard the commotion resonating up the stairway and came rushing. At first she thought another cyborg had come in with broken cybernetics and wasn’t in control, but with each step she descended she realized this was a whole new kind of danger. By the time she’d made it to the hallway she heard Hiram and Enver’s voices shouting through the Ward.
She sat on an empty cot and watched Chance make his way to another patient further down the hall. She leaned on her knees with her face buried in her hands. Her life was a total mess again.
Fuck Hiram and the compound.
The forbidden words came to her mind in a rush that didn’t even bother her. She’d been here for weeks and finally, her life had started to come together. She felt like the most authentic version of herself she’d ever been and, found something with Enver that was as close to sacred as she’d ever known with the ecovangelists.
And they would dare to try to rip it all away from her. They had destroyed her life once, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. The only person she still loved when she was exiled, who she’d mourned and cried for, had condemned her. The life he dangled out like a carrot on a stick was the one she had thought she wanted. A forever with Hiram by her side. But that man was dead to her, if he ever even existed. Instead, an ex-military medic cyborg had taught her to love herself and let herself be loved.
Because even though they hadn’t said it, she knew that’s what this was.
Love.
Shaking her head, she brushed off her thoughts and went back to the work. This was her home and it needed her. Cyn City may have a bittersweet taste and a ghetto of misfits, but it didn’t paint a fake picture to hide from reality. Here, you get what you see. It was refreshing.
The sheets were changed and the station prepped for the next patient when her stomach grumbled. One last glance at the now crooked pole on the metal stand and she sighed.
Enver must be starving. He was in the middle of rounds when he got hurt. I wish he’d eat before taking care of the patients.
Slipping into the kitchen, she searched for something to fix him. Something quick, easy to eat, fully of protein and nutrients, and something he wouldn’t refuse. The bread pushed the verge of being stale, but what else what new in the Ward. With luck, she’d find some actual cheese, real meat and butter in the fridge. She dug around for ingredients, and used the high-quality provisions set aside for patients who needed the most nutrition. Right now, Enver was her priority case. Wrapping it up in a napkin, she returned to Enver’s room.
As soon as the door shut, he rolled, wincing. “What smells so good?”
“Your meal.” He pushed himself up, hissing thanks to a still tender body.
“You made me something to eat? We’ve been over this, you
don’t have to do that kind of stuff here. This isn’t the compound.”
“Hush, you need to eat, and I like taking care of you.”
He flushed then eyed the napkin in her hands like a starving dog. “What is it?”
Sitting beside him, she handed him the meager meal. “Here, see for yourself.”
“This is rather fancy for a sandwich.” He took a big bite, chewing and swallowing it down. “And you used the real meat! Oh my Suns.”
“No protein substitute for you today,” she laughed as he wrinkled his nose.
His stomach grumbled, a plea for him to eat faster and Imogen laughed again. It felt so good to laugh. “Wow, that was loud.”
Nodding, he stuffed half the sandwich in his mouth.
Imogen suspected he had been skipping meals again. It would definitely slow the healing process. She unpinned the bandages and began to unwind it from his torso and he gave her a disapproving expression.
“Can’t a man finish eating first?”
“I can’t believe you hurt yourself again.” She pulled away the last of it, the purple and green marks making it clear he broke at least one rib this time. “And it’s worse than last time.”
He took a slow bite of the sandwich, savoring the last of it, “To be fair, I didn’t hurt myself. I didn’t think that asshole would charge at me after breaking his knife on my arm. I knew he was off his rocker, but fuck me.”
“Let me go make you an ice pack, see if we can’t get the swelling down.” Tears were building in her eyes, “This is my fault, again.”
“I should have tossed him out when he pulled the knife on me.” Cramming the last bite in, he pulled her back to the bed. “Imogen, you can’t blame yourself for everyone else’s decisions.”
“You’re one to talk.” Fumbling with the Ace bandage in her hands she sighed, unable to say anything else.
“I made the decision to kill those men and right or wrong I own that.” His tone darkened, leaning his forehead on her shoulder. “But I don’t blame myself for putting us in the desert, for putting us in the position where I would even have to make that decision. If any of us had known, maybe… I made the choice to pull the trigger or snap their necks when the bullets ran out. It took me so long to stop beating myself up over how they got hurt in the first place. I can’t control other people, but I do what I can to give them a chance to live. That’s why the Ward exist. It’s a chance to survive this fucked up world another day longer than they thought possible.”
