Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
He wanted to rip and tear and destroy.
But that was who they’d trained him to be. So he wouldn’t. Not here.
Sam stared at himself in the mirror, water droplets rolling down his skin. Cold water droplets, the ones he’d become accustomed to, the temperature that offered a strange sense of comfort. He had never been sick. He’d been born healthy. The monstrous howl rose, his hands fisting, his features twisting. They’d taught him to kill, and it hadn’t come naturally. He’d done it anyway because he’d been convinced it was right. But he’d gladly kill now with no persuasion whatsoever. He’d hack and stab and maim all of them if given the chance.
Every. Last. One.
They hadn’t healed him as he’d been told. They hadn’t helped him. They’d sliced into him. They’d replaced his body parts with metal. They’d removed what was his. They’d stolen from him. The rising moan could be held back no longer, and it rushed from his mouth as he leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands on the sink, attempting to calm his pounding heart.
I was normal once.
He’d believed that the doctors had healed him, had performed necessary surgeries that not only repaired his ruined body but made him stronger, more powerful. Better. Valuable. They’d been healed for a purpose. Made strong for a purpose. They’d told him that he and the others would be an elite fighting force who would be sent on righteous missions for governments and special forces. And though he’d eventually begun to suspect that the missions were not what they’d been told, at least he could say that they had saved his life. Even if they hadn’t used it for anything good. But that too had been a lie. Every bit of it. The surgeries were merely experiments using his flesh. There was no righteousness in their work. They weren’t making the world better. They were merely pawns for rich people to use to distract from their sins, to commit atrocities that served others’ greed for power. Disposable. Subhuman.
Unnatural.
All the violence that had been funneled into his brain had been used to groom him to do anything…anything they wanted him to do, no matter how violent, no matter how gruesome. Without remorse. He’d been born completely human.
And now…now…
His brain was as ruined as his body. He gripped his head, using his fingers to squeeze until it hurt. He wanted out of his own skin. It didn’t belong to him. Nothing did. They’d taken it all.
He stepped to the wall and knocked his forehead against it once and then again, harder, harder, again and again until his breath came easier and his heart slowed. He stood there for many minutes, his head throbbing as he breathed, the monster quieting. For now.
He’d fooled himself into thinking there was a way forward, but that wasn’t true. He’d lingered here too long, even knowing his presence only risked her safety and in more ways than she realized.
He dressed and left the bathroom, heading toward the bedroom he shared with Autumn. As he passed the window, he caught a glimpse of all of them on the back deck, Eddie using a big wand to blow bubbles. One exploded in his face, and he laughed, causing the rest of them to laugh as well. Sam’s gaze moved to Autumn, her beautiful, smiling face watching Eddie, her eyes then moving to Harper, who said something Sam couldn’t hear, her hand running over her pregnant belly. Autumn’s eyes held sadness, but her smile grew, her pretty teeth showing. He saw the way she looked at them. He saw the longing in her eyes.
They almost took that from me too.
Even if both their safety could be assured…even if he managed to contain the monster inside him…how fair would it be that Autumn almost had her ability to have children—a family—taken away once, only to have it taken away again?
Where was the justice in that?
And if there was no future for them, then why put her in any further jeopardy? He’d done enough of that.
He stood there watching her as she laughed. She was so beautiful, it pained him. So full of life, with so much love to give. I love her.
Sam hadn’t been built for love. He’d been built for pain and mayhem. Nothing more.
Sam turned away from the window and walked to the bedroom. He had nothing to offer her. Nothing at all. His limbs felt as heavy as the other parts of him made from metal. He was nothing more than a walking machine. Do machines feel this much pain? He didn’t know, but maybe there was one person who could answer his questions, who could offer a reason why that would help rid him of this terrible anguish he carried.
His duffel bag, with the few items he owned, was on the floor, though owned might not be the right word, considering most of the items now inside were things Autumn’s father had given to him. He no longer had the weapon that had been in it when Agent Gallagher had shown up. He’d thrown it in the river the first day they’d arrived. The more he thought about it, the more he worried that there was a tracking device of some kind on it. Maybe that was how they’d located the apple farm where he’d lived for a time. He hadn’t been able to find one, but he’d tossed it anyway. They were surrounded by two strong men who would fight for them if need be, and both had several weapons as well. He’d killed for the program with that gun, and he didn’t want it anymore.