CHANCE: SciFi Cyborg Romance (Cyn City Cyborgs Book 1)

by Pearl Foxx

  In the middle of it all, Chance watched.

  Verity’s heart dropped into her stomach. Watching him work his jaw and bark orders at the bartender and bouncers to do as the police asked sent shots of adrenaline through her. He ran the room as if it was him, not the police, who were conducting the investigation. He even led them right into the backrooms where only ten minutes ago girls were doing a whole lot more than dancing for tips.

  A group of police came in with dogs, large snarling creatures with long black snouts and pointy ears. The only dogs she’d ever seen before worked on the farm, chasing rats and barking at livestock. Harmless. These animals seemed like something out of a horror story. Their twitching noses led their handlers through the room, sniffing under tables and along the walls.

  A handsome officer with black hair, a tightly trimmed black beard, and eyes the color of sapphires motioned Chance away from the other officers and closer to the bar. “You know we have to look downstairs.”

  “Time to make like water, and run,” Priya whispered in Verity’s ear. She sauntered across the room, right past one of the massive dogs who gave a low guttural growl as she walked by and made for the door. No one even noticed her go.

  Verity knew she should leave too, but she needed to work, as long as there were people here to serve she had to stay. Even just a handful of credits might make the difference between her and Imogen paying rent and living in the soggy streets.

  “Downstairs is clean,” Chance said, and the officer waved the others on, through the subtly hidden door at the end of the bar.

  “Thanks, Griff.” Chance stuffed a wad of credits so thick in the officer’s cybernetic hand Verity thought she might pass out. That was months’ worth of rent for her, and Chance just passed it over like it was nothing. Wicksham had said the police demanded money to look the other way, but this wasn’t looking the other way to her. This was more like barging in and ransacking the place.

  “No, man, I won’t take your money.”

  “You did your part and gave me a heads up. I did mine and kept the drugs and kids out of here. We’re square, so you get paid. Plus, you need it for your girl.”

  Griff’s face softened for a moment, his blue eyes turning dark, almost navy in the strange light of the bar. “I don’t like being on the take.”

  “Ain’t like that brother, promise. Only thing you’re looking the other way for is shit everyone knows happens here. Your Captain just wants to shake Garvan down. Hell, he was here the other night betting against Markus.”

  “Well, then, he’s a fucking fool for more than one reason.” Griff laughed and grabbed the comm attached to his belt. “Nothing here boys, let’s move out.”

  The whole scene was over and done before Verity had a chance to catch her breath. A wave of officers came from the secret corners and hidden doors all around the bar, a block of hard bodies moving like marching ants until they disappeared back into the night, leaving behind nothing but bright lights and an empty bar.

  “Wrap it up, kids, everybody out!” Chance called out. The few remaining men stumbled out the front door, leaving Verity alone without even a dollar to her name.

  “You too,” the muscular cyborg’s eyes were hard as he aimed them in her direction.

  “How am I supposed to make any tips if you shut us down?”

  “Not my problem, time to head out.” He held her gaze with unwavering eyes.

  Tears threatened to fall but she fought them back, refusing to let her problems turn her into some simpering weak girl. If she let that happen every time an impossible situation stood between her and what she wanted, she’d be dead a long time ago.

  “No point in opening up again, no girls and no customers.” Chance shrugged and turned away to duck behind the bar.

  She watched him for a few moments, as he pulled out the till and started counting out the cash from the register. Damn. She was waiting. Like a schoolgirl waiting for her fella to come carry her books and walk her home. Some part of her had gotten used to, even liked, Chance escorting her back to her apartment, and now, without realizing it, she had expected it to happen again.

  But he didn’t owe her anything, just like she kept telling him. Now she needed to believe it herself and get the hell out of there before he realized what she had been doing.

  His hands moved over the cash, human fingers strong and calloused, metal ones smooth and cool. Just like him. Warm and real one moment, detached and mechanical the next.

  “You need something? he asked without looking up.

  For a moment she considered asking him for a loan, just enough for rent. She’d work it off, as many shifts as it took. But the last thing she wanted was a favor from him. She didn’t like the idea of owing him a single damn thing, especially when he stood there like it was his heart that had been replaced with metal and gears and not his arm.

  “No, I’m good. Am I set to work tomorrow night?”

  “Yep. You said you needed the credits.”

  “See you then.” Verity grabbed her bag from behind the bar and walked out. She half imagined she heard someone say her name, in a low vibrating whisper, but that wasn’t possible. Chance was only interested in paying off cops and protecting whatever “fights” were happening downstairs. She realized he was probably right. He wasn’t someone she wanted to know.

  Garvan tapped the tip of a stylus against his oversized desk. The cheap aluminum had dents and cracks in it, but Garvan ruled from behind it like a king.

  “So, what you’re telling me is that you need to get paid before services rendered?” the dark-haired kingpin said. His aquiline nose added a distinguished look to his black hair and blacker eyes, despite what had to be a number of breaks in his past. He was handsome in his own way, smoldering and intense.

  Verity didn’t focus on his looks though, only on the promises she hoped he could help her keep. “Just like the police came here last night, they’ve been coming to apartment buildings more often. My landlord let me stay for the first month free, so I could get a job, but now the rent is due, and he needs more than I thought.”

  “Seems like a lot of people are doing you favors.”

  “None I don’t make good on.” She raised her chin, hoping to portray an image of respectability.

  Garvan studied her. His black eyes boring into her just like the first time she’d met him, asking for a job and hoping it would be something she could do with her clothes on. His gaze landed like a cold touch, leaving goosebumps and hesitation in his wake.

  He was a dangerous man. She could see it in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers were clean with short manicured nails. This was a man who wielded the kind of power better avoided, especially in a place like Cyn City where power meant crime. There was no other way to get ahead in the lower city it seemed. But she did her damnedest to make a life for herself. One she could be proud of. And to do that, she needed this.

  “I’ll pay you back out of time worked. First in, first out. That way you’ll get paid back fast, and I can earn the money fairly.”

  “And interest?” Garvan’s eyes twinkled, a lock of his wavy black hair falling forward across his forehead.

  “And interest.”

  “If you pay it back on schedule plus, let’s say, 12% interest, I can make this happen.” He opened one of the large drawers in his desk and pulled out a large black lock box with a handle on the top. “Do you know why safes are made out of steel?”

  “No,” Verity replied, trying to calm her bubbling stomach and hopeful tears.

  “Steel is the safest material in case of fire. Wood and other such materials allow the fire to spread, steel contains it. That’s why safes have double layers so the heat can be trapped in the box’s frame and give you time to rescue any valuables you have inside.” Garvan placed two large piles of bills on the table in front of her.

  “This looks like more than I need,” Verity said, her voice shaking. How could she take so much without giving anything in return?

&nbs
p; “Take it, this way, in case it takes you a little longer to pay off, you have wiggle room, and when you are flush with hours, you can just return whatever you didn’t use, no interest accrued.”

  “That’s too generous.”

  Garvan smiled, his white teeth highlighted by the glinting titanium ones in the dim light. “Nothing I wouldn’t do for any of my employees. I like to see happy faces when I come into the bar, and I like to know you are taken care of. I’m glad you know you can trust me to take care of you.”

  His smile widened and something about it made Verity’s chest hurt, but he pushed the feeling down and reached out for the piles of bills, trying not to seem overly eager, but unable to keep her hands from shaking.

  “Now, to seal our deal, we shake hands, like men and women of our word, yes?”

  Verity stuffed the bills into her bag and reached out to take Garvan’s hand. His grip was firm and strong, squeezing hard enough to let her know that despite his lack of cybernetic enhancements, he could crush her if he chose. She shook back, trying to hide the shiver that ran up her spine.

  Chapter 10

  Verity

  Chance’s address hadn’t been hard to find, but now that Verity stood in front of the massive building, glass broken out of the windows of the first 10 floors, rubble and debris scattered around, she second-guessed her decision to come here.

  The money from Garvan screamed inside her purse, announcing its presence to everyone she passed. It burned in her bag, pressing its heat against the side of her body. She wanted to get home and find a place to hide it, pay Wicksham what she owed, and make sure Imogen got a full healthy meal after everything she'd been through. Not that her friend had said much since she’d arrived.

  The first item on her to-do list though was to make good on her promise to Chance. She would pay him back for the medicine he'd gotten for Imogen, and then she wouldn't owe him anything. As much as his magnetic charm drew her in, instinct told her to run as far from him as she could get. She’d witnessed him paying off a cop, and overheard whispers about blood, grease, and some kind of fight ring with which he was intimately involved. That kind of trouble wasn’t what she’d run away from everything she knew for. She wanted a simple, safe life.

  She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She would drop off the money and be on her way, free and clear. Owing him was the very last thing she wanted. At least with Garvan, the terms had been clear and upfront. With Chance, she never knew what to expect, or what he expected of her.

  Out of habit, she opened the shattered glass door to enter the building. She could've just stepped inside the gaping hole doing nothing to restrict entrance. The lobby of the building had clearly once been impressive. Marble floors clicked under her feet, but smears of grime—which she refused to look directly at for fear they weren’t just dirt or grease but blood—were spread across the floor. The vacuous room was the kind you saw in outdated magazines of high-end elegant living. Once there were probably sleek leather couches and a reception desk where a doorman with a hat would announce any visitors. Now it was merely a wind tunnel which did nothing to protect her from the dangers lurking outside.

  Glass crunched under her feet, as she approached the elevator. When she pressed the button a dim light glowed beneath the up arrow, and she exhaled in relief. It worked. The mechanism of the elevator’s gears churned loud in the relative silence of the lobby.

  Verity’s heart thumped in her chest. She couldn't stop the vibration beneath her skin—excitement to see Chance again or fear? His untamable sandy hair and brown eyes were as kind as they could be cruel.

  Verity jumped when the elevator binged, unused to such amenities. The doors slid open with a creek, and she stepped over the gap into the metal box. She pressed the button for the 23rd-floor and took a deep breath.

  Please let it work. Please let this elevator get me to my destination without dropping me down to my death.

  The lights over the elevator doors had been long smashed, but a soft chime announced each floor it passed. She clutched the railing and counted as the elevator rose, leaving her stomach on the ground floor behind her.

  As the elevator lurched to a stop, Verity had mostly regained her composure. The door slid open, and she stepped out onto red and yellow patterned carpet. The hallway within was lit only by the sunlight streaming in from windows at the ends of the hall. All the overhead lights had been shattered or removed, but no glass scattered across the carpet. Instead, the floor and walls were cleaner than anything she'd seen before in Cyn City. As if the horrors of the streets below hadn't reached this high yet.

  The voice in her head kept telling her she shouldn't be here. She didn't owe him anything. If she was intent on getting him money for the kindness he'd extended, she could do it that night at work.

  But her pride and the pull of her heart moved her forward, as she walked down the hall. She checked the numbers on each door until she found herself standing in front of Chance’s apartment.

  Number two hundred thirty-six on the twenty-third floor.

  It was the address she’d found riffling through some of the paperwork behind the bar after meeting with Garvan. Was she insane to intrude on Chance’s personal time? She’d come to invade his home just to make herself feel better. It wasn't that she wanted to see him. It wasn't that she longed for the heat of his lips against hers again. She would return the money and leave, no longer owing him anything.

  She knocked on the door lightly but couldn't hear anything behind the thick wood. What if he wasn't home? Like a fool, she stood there in the hallway waiting for him to answer. Should she knock again? Would that make her seem overeager?

  She was about to leave. It would be better if he never knew she’d come here. But the door jerked open, a shirtless and sweaty Chance filling the space completely.

  His hair was mussed as usual and droplets of sweat beaded on his chest.

  “Almost didn’t hear you. You have to be louder than that if you want to catch my attention when I’m running.” He stepped back and opened the door further gesturing with his arm that she should enter his home. His smile was crooked, as if something about this whole situation amused him.

  Verity hesitated, her bag now in a vice grip between her hands. “I didn't come to visit.” She blurted out louder than she intended.

  Chance’s smile faltered, and his eyes darkened. “Are you in trouble?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “Then come in and tell me why you aren’t here to visit. We shouldn't be standing out in the hall anyway.”

  She entered the space and was surprised to find a warm, well-decorated home. The main room consisted of a small old-fashioned kitchen, a seating area with a couch and chairs, and what appeared to be a manual geared treadmill up against the window.

  “You got here just in time. In another few minutes, I would be done with my run and in the shower. I'd never hear you in there.” Chance smirked, and Verity let her eyes drift over his sweaty chest. His skin was slick and the spattering of hair across his chest called to her. What would it be like to be in the shower with him, water running down their bodies, wet and slick?

  Chance led her to one of the couches, but Verity stood behind the chair, keeping the furniture between them. Temptation, thy name is cyborg.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” she said in a rush, lifting her bag and setting it on the back of the oversized chair. It reminded her of the kind of thing wealthier families in the compound had in their homes. How much money did Chance make at the Ball & Joint to be able to afford something like this? She shook the thought from her head and dug into her bag.

  “I wanted to pay you back for everything you've done for Imogen and me. Especially the medicine.”

  Chance shook his hair a little and wiped his hands on his shorts. “I told you there's no need. I'm glad I was able to help. Is she feeling better?”

  For a moment, Chance’s bright eyes and firm physique mesmerized her. What would it be
like to be with a man who really did something kind without expecting something in return? What would it be like to let him take care of her? She dismissed the thought from her head. She didn’t need to be taken care of. She’d been doing fine taking care of herself her whole life.

  “She's doing much better. Thank you. She still hasn’t said much but she will when she's ready.” Verity pulled some bills out of her bag and counted them out. “Please, tell me how much the medicine was. I want to pay you back.”

  Chance stepped forward, and a squeak rose in Verity’s throat. His movements were an exercise in controlled violence. She could see the muscles rippling across his chest with each breath he took.

  “Where did you get that money?” he demanded.

  “It's just an advance. I arranged with Garvan to work it off.”

  “How much did he give you?” He grabbed her bag and pulled out the stacks of bills, throwing them on the seat of the chair like they might catch on fire. Chance’s face darkened, and a thunderstorm brewed in his eyes. "What did you agree to? How are you paying it back?"

  “Out of my shift hours, with interest. It's okay, and now I can pay you back.” She held out a wad of bills. Chance just stared at her hands, as if she were holding out a live viper.

  “You shouldn't have done that.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it back so she could see the broad planes of his face more clearly. He stepped away from her, turning around, his hands pulled into fists. “Do you even know what Garvan really makes his money on?”

  “I don't care. I came here to make a life for myself, not to accept handouts. Whatever Garvan does is none of my business, and neither is whatever it is you're doing in the basement of the bar. If this doesn't cover what I owe you, just let me know.”

  She reached down to grab the bills and stuff them back into her bag, but Chance came around the chair and grabbed her arm so fast she gasped. “You don't understand. Garvan does not keep his word. What he does, and what I do are completely different. And you shouldn't have anything to do with either of us. I’ve told you that a million times. But now you’ve gone and gotten yourself in deeper than you realize. Garvan doesn't just give advances. Now, he thinks he owns you until you pay it back. And believe me, he'll do everything possible to make it impossible for you to ever get out from under his thumb.”