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“I need to go,” she says. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
Without another word, she rushes out the door.
I sit in the center of the bed and stare at the closed door. I have no idea what just happened. Her plan had been brilliant. We could have exchanged information that way all night long. She could have helped me understand exactly what she knew and why she would do this to me, but now she’s gone. Is she angry because I accused her of knowing I didn’t volunteer to be a specimen? She’s run out after sex before but never halfway through. What did I say to make her take off like that?
I glance down at my abandoned cock.
Maybe like me, it’s just a tool she’s uses when she wants or needs it. Maybe now that I know the truth, she has no more interest in either of us.
As angry as I have felt, the longing I have for her is deeper and needier. I never should have told her my name. I should have kept my silence from the very beginning, forgotten the whole experience. If I had done that, maybe she would still be here, but I didn’t, and she’s not.
She’s gone, and I’m left alone and unsatisfied.
Chapter 18
I don’t sleep that night. For the longest time, I just sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the door, waiting for Riley’s return. After a few hours, I lie on my side and watch the door from that position, but I never sleep.
I assume there is someone else here, watching me from the other side of the mirror, but no one comes in. As the hours pass, I become more and more anxious.
Where did Riley go, and what is she doing? Did she reveal my secret to her superiors, and they are now discussing what is to be done with me?
I grab onto the pillow on the bed and pull it to my chest. It still smells like her. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. I had missed her scent so much while I was detained that even this diffused, lingering fragrance calls to me and brings me a slight amount of peace.
As I tighten my grip on the pillow, I think about everything she said to me before she left. She admitted to erasing my memories on more than one occasion. She knew I was dreaming about my past, and she took that from me. She said it was in my best interest, but I don’t believe that.
I shake my head sharply. Riley took care of me. She stayed by my side the whole time I went through this transformation, and she stayed beside me in my bed when I couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving. I saw the tears in her eyes when she found me bruised and damaged. I know she cares about me.
Throughout the night, my thoughts fluctuate. It’s like pulling the petals from a daisy: She loves me, she loves me not. I trust Riley, I trust her not. The more I think about it, the more the terror inside me grows.
It’s early morning when the door finally opens again.
I sit up straight in the bed. Riley marches in with her medical bag in one hand, looking all business. She goes straight to the computer on the desk—no “good morning”, no smile, no nothing first—and taps rapidly at the keys.
“Come with me.” Riley glances at the mirror and then quickly looks away again. “I went over the diagnostic information the techs gave me from your implants. I want to take some scans and verify a few things before surgery.”
A cold chills runs through me as my body moves to comply with her directive. I stumble off the bed and walk toward her.
“Get dressed first,” she mumbles, still barely looking at me.
I glance down at my naked body and head for the cabinet. I grab the first things I see and dress myself.
Diagnostic information.
Scans.
Surgery.
“Riley?”
“Come on, now,” she says as she beckons me. “We’ve got a lot to get done today.”
I follow her out of the lab. I want to hold back, refuse to leave the room, but there’s nothing I can do but obey her. She’s obviously in a hurry, and I take long strides to keep up with her fast pace through the halls. Guards follow us, but they stay on the other side of the door as she brings me into a room with an examination table.
At one end of the table is a curved machine designed to pass over the head of whomever is lying down. I don’t have a clear recollection of its purpose, but I know I don’t want to go any closer.
She’s going to erase my memories again.
I grab her hand.
