Page 52 of Atticus
“I would like to return to Miss Warren,” I reply. “Please.”
“I thought you might say that,” Kyrone says, motioning for me to accompany him. “Couldn’t help but notice the address under your registration. St. Morgan, Illinois?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s interesting. My brother, Trey, lives out there. Trey Washington. Don’t suppose you know him?”
I stop in surprise. “I work with Trey. At Vautrin Middle School.”
Kyrone’s eyes widen. “Well, I’ll be damned! Small world. Don’t suppose you know my other brother, Deion? He’s an officer here, in New Carnegie.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Heh, now that would’ve been crazy,” Kyrone says as he leads me through a corridor stashed with wires and extra bionic parts. “Was worth a shot.”
* * *
When I wander into the store front, Lucy leaps up from her chair, her cheeks streaked with mascara, and runs to me. I barely have time to open my arms and catch her as she collides against my frame. I hold steady and keep my balance, wrapping my arms around her and cradling her.
She squeezes me tightly, sniffling. Her voice is muffled against my chest. “You scared me to death. I thought I lost you.”
Lucy has never so adamantly embraced me before, especially in front of others. When Kyrone slips behind his counter and sees us, he shakes his head and smiles before pulling up new work orders on his computer.
Amber rests a hand above her chest in relief. “Thank god you’re okay.”
I squeeze Lucy softly and stroke her hair as I’ve often done at home, vindicated in being able to touch her like this without care. “I’m all right. I’m fine. All fixed.”
Amber’s knees are bandaged up, scrapes and scratches on her palms from catching herself when she fell. “That wasn’t how I wanted to spend the evening, but thank you. You saved my life back there.”
Lucy pulls away from me and tries to fix her face.
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say. “Preventing harm is a part of my programming.”
“That just means I need to hunt you down for an exclusive interview later.” Amber chuckles. “Exploring heroism when it isn’t a choice.”
After a short argument between them that Lucy ultimately forfeits in exasperation, Amber pays the repair bill, and we exit together. Night has fallen, casting shadows that play out of the reach of rows of street lights. I suspect the women are tired, so I offer to drive. They offer no resistance.
By the time we’re back at Amber’s apartment, it’s ten o’clock, and Lucy is biting back a constant barrage of yawns.
“Remember when we used to stay up until four in the morning, drinking and partying?” she says. “Now I can barely make it past nine thirty.”
“Ha.” Amber smirks. “I remember the good ol’ days, yeah. I don’t know where we found the energy. Why don’t you get ready for bed? I’ll get Atticus squared away, don’t worry.”
Lucy seems hesitant to leave us there. “You sure? Is everything okay?”
“Course! I just wanted to chat with him a little more about what happened. No worries.”
“Sure,” Lucy says. “I’ll be in the guest room if you need anything. Goodnight.”
I nod at her appreciatively, inwardly longing to go after her. Could I? The possibility was never there before. Perhaps I can. I want to. “Goodnight, Lucy.”
After she ambles toward the guest room, Amber turns to me. “You seriously saved my ass back there. How are you feeling? I heard Kyrone tell Lucy he took out your inhibitor chip.”
“He did, yes,” I reply. “I’m strangely fine. I should be encountering loads of malfunction errors, but I’m not. I know it’s gone now, but it’s like it isn’t. It’s a very quiet kind of change, I suppose.”
“You don’t have testosterone,” Amber observes. “It makes sense that it’d be a small difference. It’s not like you’re going to go running off into the street, fighting crime and punching bad guys in the face.”
“That sounds horrible,” I agree. “I’ll leave that to the professionals.”
