Specimen

“I don’t want the feelings I have for you to go away.” I keep my gaze on her, pleading.

There are tears in the corners of her eyes. The conflict there is evident—she doesn’t want it to change, either, and she has the same fear. She knows if I revert to the way I was, there is no telling how I will react to her. I feel pressure behind my own eyes as she bites her lip and glances away from me.

“I don’t want the feelings you have to be based on a chemical reaction.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“I don’t care how they got there. I just don’t want them to go away. I can’t risk that—I won’t.”

“We took your life away,” Riley says. She reaches up and wipes the back of her hand over her cheek. “I was a part of that.”

“What life?”

“Everything you had…everything you were.”

“Riley…” I sigh hard, still unable to find the right words to make her understand. “My parents had been gone a long time. The land my family had farmed for generations was desolate. My sister was dead. What kind of life did I have?”

“You had your freedom.”

“Did I?” I shake my head slowly. “There is nothing for me there now. No farm, no family. Even if I could return there, I wouldn’t want to. If having you means being shackled to implants or drugs or fucking metal chains, I’ll take it. You are my only reason to exist.”

“I don’t know if I want you to feel like that. You shouldn’t have to be shackled to me.”

“I want to be, Riley! Don’t you see that?”

“How can I trust what you think you want?” she asks. “Knowing I had a part in making you feel that way, how can I believe it now?”

“Isn’t love a hormonal reaction?” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Who is to say that what we have is any different from what any other couple might experience?”

/> “You know that is not the point.”

“Well, let’s come at it from my own ego, then. I’m strong. I can fight off a half dozen soldiers without breaking a sweat. I can see in the dark. If I need to understand something, you can just load it into my head. I can go for days without food or water. I can fuck you for hours, turn around, and do it all again. I am a super-soldier. What guy doesn’t want to be that?”

“You’re being flippant.”

She starts to turn from me, but I take her chin in my hand and make her face me.

“I didn’t ask for this.” With my thumb, I brush a final tear from her face. “All of this was forced upon me, but it started when I killed those men. I don’t regret that. Now that it’s all said and done, I think I prefer this over staying in prison for the rest of my life. I certainly prefer it to execution.”

“I didn’t think about it that way,” Riley says.

“I may not have chosen this life you gave me,” I say, “but other than my memories, I didn’t have a lot to lose. Now that I have those back, my only fear is losing you.”

Chapter 23

I wake.

There’s no pause between sleep and wakefulness. I simply go from one stage to the other without any grogginess, just like I always do. This time is different though.

The bed I’m in is soft and warm, and Riley is curled up beside me, her back to my chest. Her hair is spread out over the pillow, making her look as if she were lying on a pile of fluff. I push a few strands away from her face so I can see her better.

As I watch her sleep, my every thought is of her. I watch her chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths. I hear her heart beating steadily, and I find that if I concentrate hard enough, I can make my rhythm match hers. I focus on the curve of her cheek, the spiral design of her ear, and then the precise hue of her lips. Her eyelashes flutter slightly, and I wonder if she’s dreaming of me.

If I could just wake up to this every morning, life would be good.

Shifting slightly, I pull the blanket up a little higher to make sure Riley is warm enough. She hums softly as she turns in my arms, snuggling against my chest.

I haven’t given any thought to a future for myself. The very idea of thinking ahead feels foreign and unattainable. Since I woke in the lab, I’ve lived entirely in the present. I’m not sure if I’m even capable of thinking any other way.

With my fingertip, I stroke the side of her face from temple to chin. Her skin is soft and cool compared to mine. Her lips part slightly, and she sighs in her sleep.