by Pearl Foxx
The night crept by, and Verity endured a few more gropes than usual and definitely less tips than she needed. But her mind was other places.
Every time she looked toward the bar, Chance was nowhere to be found. She suspected he was either downstairs getting ready for the evening’s festivities, or avoiding her. Every now and then she would catch Hollywood’s eye who just shook his head with a frown.
During the last break before her final shift she stood outside under the Ball & Joint’s glowing sign. It filled the street with the same blue glow as Chance’s cybernetic arm and gave her a melancholy feeling she couldn't shake.
"If you gotta joint, you better be sharing that shit,” Priya said as she walked out into the evening air.
"You know what Priya? I'm not in the mood for you. Can we just move on to the part where you say something obnoxious, so I can ignore you, and we go back to work?"
"Settle down. Here, I thought we were becoming better friends. Besides, I want to hear all about the girl who finally landed Chance in her bed.”
Verity stiffened. She turned to look at Priya and saw nothing but innocence in the face before her. Not that she believed Priya was innocent of much of anything.
"All I'm saying is that if you need someone to talk to, someone who understands, I'm here for you."
Verity’s eyebrows narrowed. "You and Chance?"
Priya shrugged. “Cyborgs can be complicated.” She lit a cigarette. The one industry that somehow hadn't been destroyed by either the growing deserts or spreading swamplands, tobacco seemed to grow in abundance no matter what happened to the planet.
"I think my brake’s almost over. I better head back inside." Verity said with flat voice.
"Does that mean you don’t want to tell me what business you had with Garvan earlier?”
Verity shook her head. "Trust me, you don't want to know, and if you already do, you probably wish you didn't.”
Priya laughed and ashed into the street. "Wiser words were never said. Sounds like you're beginning to learn."
"Unfortunately, I think I am." Verity pushed her way past the other waitress and pulled open the door. She looked behind her with a smile. "Hey Priya?"
"What's up, doll face?"
"Thanks, for whatever it's worth."
Priya gestured a tip of the hat before turning away and exhaling a plume of smoke.
Verity kept a clipped pace during the walk home. She stayed a few steps ahead of Chance. She didn't really want to have a conversation with him even though it was unavoidable. Right now, she just wanted to get back to his apartment and check on Imogen.
"I told you I'm fine. You could've stayed," she said over her shoulder once she’d gotten thoroughly annoyed with his grumbling.
"That's not the point."
Verity stopped in the street. The overhead lights flickered on and off, as the city’s brownout tried to decide whether or not it had enough power to fuel this area. In the flashing lights, Chance’s face took on what should have been a handsome shadowed mystery, but instead, it just made her sad.
"Fine, what exactly is it you want to talk about? That for some reason you think my life is worth more than someone else's? You're willing to go into that ring and kill someone just because Garvan says to?"
"This is what I've been trying to avoid getting into with you." His voice was loud, hard, and tinged with pain. He walked up to her and slammed his palm against the brick building beside them. "Don't you fucking understand? There's nothing I can do here. You should have come to me in the first place—"
"Are you saying this is my fault?" Verity yelped leaning away from him. "I never asked you to do anything. I never asked you to volunteer to pay back what I owed or go to Garvan. I didn't ask you to rescue me. I don't need rescuing."
Chance leaned down, right in her face, and growled, "Clearly, you do. You’re a naïve girl from a backwards place, and if I didn’t step in, you’d find yourself way worse off than you’re even beginning to understand."
"Maybe, but it would be my mistake, it would've been my lesson to learn. I'm not some stupid little girl who needs your pity. Believe me, I've been through more than enough on my own, without you there, without anyone there.” She pushed against his chest and he didn't move, a wall of muscle and simmering rage. "I don't understand why you fucking care so much."
Chance’s face fell, and he looked away. "If you don't understand that, I’ve really been doing this wrong."
He grabbed her chin and brought his face to hers. He took her mouth in a hungry kiss that showed no signs of relenting. She struggled against him, keeping her mouth shut and pushing against his chest but he wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her up against him until she could feel the warmth as it melted into her body.
When he finally pulled away, she slapped him in the face.
Chance stepped back, his eyes wide, reflecting the phosphorescent glow of his now fully illuminated streetlight. "Of course, this means something. You really think what happened between us meant shit to me?
"I don't know. Maybe I should ask Priya.” Jealousy surged through her. An unfamiliar thing she'd never experienced before. Some part of her felt entitled to ownership over him. Like because he had sex with her, now she was entitled to a little piece of his soul.
She knew better than that. On the compound men often had first, second, sometimes even third wives, and it didn't seem to bother a single one of them, only the women suffered. Chance reached out for her with his metal hand. It glinted in the light like a star reflecting back at them. "I don't know what the fuck Priya said to you, but she and I were never together."
"She made it sound like—"
"Verity, there hasn't been anybody but you for a long time. Since before I started working for Garvan, since before this." He held up his metallic arm with a face full of disgust. “It’s been years.”
She gasped and grabbed his forearm and pulled it back down, interlacing her warm fingers with his cool titanium ones. “I had no idea.”
"What happened between us wasn't just a big deal for you,” he said, breaking her heart.
"I don't know what to believe anymore." Verity shook her head and tried to fight off the tears that threatened to overtake her ability to think. “No one here tells the truth. No one here acts like anything matters. I don't know what to do, but I don't want you to fight." She fell against his chest, and he wrapped her up in his arms, gently this time.
Chance stroked his hand up and down her back, placing soft kisses on the top of her head. "I don't want to either. I don't fight any more for a reason. It's the exact reason Garvan is making me do this, but I don't see any other way out"
"I'm so sorry." Verity sobbed.
“Don't be sorry. Garvan’s kept me around just waiting. I knew this would happen someday. So did he." He ran his hand through Verity’s hair and gripped the back of her neck. "Don't think less of me," he begged.
"How can I think less of you? You’re saving my life."
Chance kissed her, turning them around for her back was against the brick wall. The cone of light from the streetlamp blinked out and they were alone in the inky black. His hands were frantic, running over her sides and down to grip her ass. Pulling her up against him as he pressed her against the wall. "I'm more than this," he whispered. "I promise I’m more than this."
Verity ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth closer. She opened her lips and sucked on his tongue relishing the now familiar taste of him. She wanted to make all of this better. To take her mistake back. She drank in his kiss and realized just how much of this was her fault. She had created a horrible situation for this good, beautiful man. And she couldn’t fix it.
Chance moved his lips down her neck, nipping along the muscle sending shivers of passion and need through her body. She wanted so badly to know every part of him. When he lifted her leg and pressed his already hard cock against her, she moaned.
"I need you." She breathed into his mouth raking her nails down his back. She
slipped her fingers under the hem of his shirt and worked her way up his strong broad back muscles.
"Not out here." He shook his head, his breath hitching.
"Here. Now. I need you.” Verity insisted reaching between them and pulling her skirt up over her hips.
Chance shivered and pressed harder against her core. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I don't think you can."
With final permission, Chance reached for her like an animal finally getting his claws into their prey. He pushed her against the wall and lifted her up by the ass holding her weight with his sleek glowing arm. He shoved his pants down just enough to pull his hard erection out and pushed her panties out of the way, so he could slip his warm silken cock between her folds.
Verity moaned into the darkness. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the brick. "Yes," she prayed. She needed this. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, she needed him inside her, to fill her up and make her whole. Everything was spiraling out of control around them, but together she knew they could survive anything.
Chance wrapped his arms around her, clutching her ass and holding her weight. He lifted her up and then settled her back down on his waiting cock. He impaled her on his hardness and Verity couldn't stop the cries echoing out into the night. But in Cyn City, screams in the darkness weren’t so unusual anyone would think twice.
Chance set a breathtaking pace, pumping into her and gripping her body tight.
She could barely breathe and struggled to move against him, to pull him deeper into her body.
He held her tight, thrusting up into her with such delicious pleasure Verity wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Could a person combust in ecstasy? He took everything she had and gave it right back to her, his eyes staring deep into hers.
With Chance she transformed into someone strong, wanted, powerful, and free. She soared through highs that scratched at her sense of reality, the gritty world of Cyn City disappearing until her whole existence focused down on their two bodies tumbling toward bliss.
"Fuck," he cried out, his metal fingers digging into her hips, hard. Even their touch was no longer cool, the alloy having absorbed the heat of their bodies.
Blasts of pleasure shot through her as blinding lights threatened her sanity. Verity’s pussy clenched down on his cock, squeezing and milking it for every ounce of pleasure she could find. She struggled in his hold, thrashing in her desperate hunt to get closer to that impending pinnacle of pleasure that seemed forever out of reach.
Chance shifted his hips and slammed into her at a new angle, causing both of them to cry out again. The sound was guttural and feral and his pace unrelenting.
"Yes, yes, Chance!" Verity screamed into the night as her entire body clenched down and released the tension holding her back. Her orgasm struck like a lightning bolt straight to the clit and spanned out like wildfires.
Chance pumped into her a few more times before shuddering and collapsing against her.
Gently, he pulled out and set her back on her feet. Holding onto her hips to make sure she could stand.
"I'm… I feel like I should say I'm sorry for that, for just jumping you, but I can't make myself feel bad." Chance chuckled kissing her on the lips and pulling her skirt back down.
"Good, don’t even think about apologizing. This was amazing." Verity blinked her eyes, trying to reorient her place on the planet, after Chance had sent her Axis spinning out of control.
Chapter 17
Verity
Chance held his front door open, as Verity walked through to find Imogen on her hands and knees scrubbing the tile floor in his tiny kitchen. The apartment was full of rich delicious aromas and a pile of pots and pans filled his small sink.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Chance asked stopping in his tracks.
Imogen looked up, her blond hair tied back in a cloth and her skirt tucked between her knees, her modest blouse unbuttoned slightly. “I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing all day,” she said, blowing a wisp of hair from her eyes.
“It’s the middle of the night.” Verity said.
Chance closed the door behind him with a gentle click and bolted all of the locks intended to keep the strangeness of the world on the outside. He looked at Verity with a raised eyebrow, and she could tell the scene before him was probably the strangest thing he’d seen all night.
Verity knelt down in front of her friend. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She nodded and looked away wiping her hands off on her skirt. “I’m going to need to find some fabric. I can’t keep wearing the same thing every day.”
Verity jumped up. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I meant to give you more clothes.”
Imogen looked over Verity’s short skirt and revealing halter top. “I can’t wear that,” she said with more accusation in her voice than Verity expected.
She flinched from the harsh words, exactly the kind of thing she expected from someone at the compound, but hearing the judgment in Imogen’s voice bothered her.
Imogen didn’t realize how her words affected other people. She’d always been a little naïve and that had worked in her favor on the compound. But here, naivety was like having a big red target on your back. Verity was just street-smart enough to survive, how was Imogen ever going to make it?
Before Verity had a chance to say anything Chance finally found his voice. “You wait here, I have some clothes you can use the fabric from to sew however you’d like.” He disappeared into the hall. As he rounded the corner toward the bedroom he gave Verity a glance with a sad smile.
“What the ever-loving fuck?” Chance’s voice came like a roar from the back bedroom.
Imogen covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.
Verity gave her a hard look and asked, “What did you do?”
“Nothing, you know, men have no idea how to take care of themselves. I mean, there were dirty clothes and workout clothes and shoes everywhere and I even found a gun in his closet. Do you really know who this person is?”
“Everyone has a gun back home.” Verity said unsurprised by the idea Chance would own one. It only made sense, and now that she knew more about the business Garvan ran, it made even more sense. She couldn’t help wondering whether or not he’d ever actually used it.
“It doesn’t seem quite right, you and this man we don’t know have already moved in together sharing a bed—”
“We haven’t moved in together. We’re only staying here for a few days until things get sorted, and we’re sure you’re safe. You don’t need to worry. Chance just wants to help.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Verity couldn’t quite explain it herself but knew Chance could be trusted, even with all the questions about his past and how she really knew very little about him when it came right down to it. But something in her gut told her he was exactly the kind of man she hoped he was. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was because she’d gotten in too deep far faster than she’d intended. Maybe she knew how much it was going to hurt when she found out she was wrong. But for now, she needed to believe in him, and she got the impression he needed that too.
Chance stomped back out of his bedroom and threw a pair of oversized sweatpants and a few t-shirts on the kitchen counter. He looked around him with narrow eyes.
“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate that you cleaned, and the food smells amazing. And I completely understand needing to work with your hands when you’re upset. But rearranging my furniture and the clothes in my drawers was a step too far. Do whatever you want in the kitchen. I don’t care if you want to scrub the bathroom until the paint peels off. But leave my room alone while you’re here. I need at least one thing that’s just mine.” He spared a glance at Verity. “And a little privacy.”
His words came out in spurts, like it took effort to remember to be polite and not just scream in frustration.
Verity still wasn’t sure what she had done, but
how bad could it be?
Imogen nodded her head. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I was just on a roll, and it was a way to pass the time. Plus, your room really was a disaster.”
“It’s all right, but next time, try watching TV.”
Imogen tilted her head in question.
“You’re kidding me. Your cult didn’t have television? Even the slums have television.”
“It’s not a cult,” Imogen shot back.
Verity walked up to Chance and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Why don’t you take a shower or do something to calm your nerves before bed. You could have stayed for the fights if you wanted to, you know. Or you could go back.” She offered.
He looked down at her, and his brown eyes scanned between hers. “No, I’d rather be here. Plus, if I’m going to be in the ring tomorrow, I want to get up early and go for a run.
Verity nodded and kissed him on the shoulder squeezing his waist again.
In the corner of her eye, she could see Imogen’s eyes widen at the mention of a fight.
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll hop in the shower. You spend some time with your friend.” He took her chin between his metal fingers and tilted it up toward him. She smiled into his gentle kiss, loving that he’d gone so quickly from refusing to touch her at all with his cybernetics to reaching for her without thought.
When Chance disappeared from view, Imogen rounded on her. “What the Devil, Verity?
Welcome to Cyn City was all she could think of to say but she bit her tongue. “It can take a while to adjust to life in the city. You should watch the television and learn how people talk. It’s more different than you realize.”
“So, I’m witnessing. A cyborg? I mean I knew that when we first came here, but I was in shock. Now I’ve been alone all-night thinking about everything and my goodness, Verity! Cyborgs rape people! They’re violent.”
Verity sighed. “Does Chance seem violent to you?”
Imogen shrugged. “I don’t know, what was he saying about a fight?”
Verity flinched and hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her friend everything going on. It would be hard enough for her to adjust to life here without knowing just how much trouble Verity had gotten herself into. “It’s just boxing. He works with boxers, and there’s a club where they fight. People watch them like sport and bet on it. He’s fighting tonight.”
