Page 99 of Cruel Master
“What do you think they’ll say to you at your meeting tomorrow? Do they still think you’ve got the power to turn Candice off?”
If they do, they’re deluded. There’s no putting her back in the box now.
Hadrian sets the remote on the covers. “You’d be surprised how poor most people’s understanding of sentient electronic life is, even among scientists. So, yes, they probably think I can just switch her off.”
“How do you think they’ll take the news that you can’t?”
He lets out a long sigh. “Not well.”
“Do you think—”
“Doll.”
I cut off as Hadrian interrupts me using his stern voice. For a second, I think he’s going to go all Saldar on me, but then his voice softens. “I know you’ve probably got a million things you’re worried about. So do I, but I just want to forget it all for tonight. I just want…” He wraps his hand over mine. “I just want to be us again tonight.”
It should be a ridiculous request. Oh, really, you want me to forget that you imprisoned me? Brought me into a cult? Have no intention of setting me free?
It should be ridiculous, but at the same time, it sounds good. Better than good. Maybe, just for tonight, I can let everything else go.
With an effort, I turn to the TV. “Okay. I can do that. What should we watch?”
His smile returns. “I think it’s time for your emotional support movie. It’s been five years since I’ve seen it.”
He drapes his arm around me as he selectsLord of the Rings.
“Five years for me, too,” I say, and he makes a surprised noise.
“Really?”
“Yeah. It was our thing. It never felt right without you.”
I lay my head on his chest and try to forget the rest of the world exists.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Hadrian
WakingupnexttoJuliet is surreal. She’s curled up on her side, hair sticking out in every direction, covers tucked up tight under her chin. She made it halfway through the movie before she fell asleep.
My plan for bringing Juliet out into the Compound is shot down, dead and buried. It was supposed to be gradual, interspersed with long stretches back in her cell. Treats like the bath were supposed to be earned by good behavior, and strict protocols were meant to apply at all times.
We both needed a mental break last night, and Juliet is never sleeping anywhere but beside me from now on. But today, I need to show her I can be her master out in the real world as well as locked in a cell.
But first, breakfast.
I relented on Juliet’s prison food after the first couple of weeks and started giving her some more interesting, healthy options that weren’t included in her game, but I never went sofar as to include her favorite things. It was Juliet who introduced me to the full Scottish fry-up; we used to make one every Sunday.
Today is Tuesday, but I don’t give a shit. Days don’t mean much here in the Compound anyway. We crashed out without dinner last night, so she’ll be starving, and I’m happy to deliver. Sausages, eggs, bacon, baked beans, and fried bread, paired with orange juice and coffee. Juliet hasn’t had coffee since I took her. She’ll be bouncing off the walls.
The smell of the sausages cooking must pull her from her sleep, as a couple of minutes after I begin, she appears. She’s made an attempt to tidy up her hair—I left a brush for her in the en suite bathroom—but she still has that adorable sleepy look that makes me want to shoo her back to bed and bring her breakfast on a tray.
But no. She had the nice side of me yesterday. Today, she needs her master, at least for a little while. And she’s wrapped the bath towel around herself in direct defiance of what I said yesterday. Did she just forget, or is she pushing me to see if I’ll react?
Either way, breakfast will have to wait a bit longer. I switch off the gas.
“Good morning.” Her voice has a high nervous edge, and I can’t blame her. This must be as weird for her as it is for me. In the cell, there was a level of disconnection that made everything easier. Now, this is our real life.
I can’t screw this up.
