Artificial Mates - Chapter 23

Demos stood by the front desk in the hospital hall covered in pompous fake rose marble, he towered over the other patients as he filled in the administration papers. I stared at his back as he bent and signed the doc.u.ments. My bracelet chimed pulling my attention away. I gave a quick gaze at it reluctant to lose sight of Demos in the crowd.

“Do you want something to drink?” asked Grant standing by my side. Since the moment, the nurse got the IV drip from my arm all I wanted was to get out of this place. He pointed to the row of vending machines standing against the wall next to the toilets. I was terribly thirsty but didn’t want to move from my spot.

“Liliane, stop stressing over mindless things. Demos is only paying so you can get better. You’ll have to get used to it. He is pretty serious about getting a job,” I bit my lips and shook my head. Since I left the institution and got my first job at SolTec I had no one to rely on. Lyla was as broke as I was. We met in the most unusual way while searching for a cheap apartment to rent. We instantly clicked and became roommates, we stayed together for two years then when I got the promotion as a lab assistant in quality control, I left to get my apartment. Lyla’s constant ballet of new boyfriends forced me to seek my own kingdom. I sighed at the memory, Grant patted my back. “Will water be ok?” I frowned at him then nodded. He flashed a bright smile turned and walked to the vending machine. He didn’t ask for money and it bothered me. The money was a bother, it always was. Somehow, I wanted them to be dependent on me. I may sound like a terrible person, but I felt they were slowly moving away from me. And that scared me.

I turned back to my bracelet and scrolled to the new message. Mr. Ramdin apologized for the overtime. He was certain to be the cause of my sudden visit to the emergency. As I typed my reply, a man wearing a black jacket and a cap hiding his face, bumped into me.

“Hey!” I called startled by the rude man. He kept on without stopping with his one hand in his pocket.

“Freak!” he spat over his shoulder before disappearing in the crowd. Demos jogged to my side with a worried face.

“What’s the matter? I saw someone talking to you,” I shook my head and went back to texting Mr. Ramdin.

“Just some rude guy,” when I hit send Grant came back with a water can. I gave him a quick thank you and sipped it. They both watched with concern.

“Ready? Can we go now?” Grant took me by the arm guiding me towards the exit, Demos following behind. We walked in front of shop fronts and a large circular fountain with a blank slab of rectangular rock in the middle. I had no idea what it was supposed to represent. Contemporary art was a mystery to me. A tall white arch with steps going down appeared before us. The crowd converged to that spot. The sound of low murmur echoed as we went below. At the end of the stairs were more shops boarding a spacious room with a glass ceiling, bright light poured down as the crowd marched towards a door on the opposite side marked; Station Margeot in golden shiny letters.

“Liliane, are you having more trouble at work?” Demos asked unexpectedly as we entered the station. I tore my eyes from the information board. Grant paused to listen and it made me terribly nervous.

“No-not exactly. Work has been piling cause of that day off I took the other day. Then someone did a mess and I had to clean up,” I chuckled dropping my eyes to my shoe. “People are not always nice—but, hey, that’s how people are, right?” I tried to brush it away. They both stared at me with blank faces.

“No, people are not always rude,” added Grant with a frown. My eyes darted back to the board.

“Can we—like, go home. I’m not really a fan of crowds,” Demos resumed his walk leading us to an escalator that went to a platform on the second floor. I was still feeling somewhat wobbly with a dull headache. I leaned against Grant for support; he did miracles when it came to pain relief. Demos mentioned he had abilities earlier. I wanted to get to know him better. Both of them actually. I had no idea what I really wanted, and that confused me even more.

“It’s here,” called Demos when the Transfer entered the station. Passengers gathered around to board. I followed them, eager to get home.

“Liliane, how did you get that?” asked Grant as he pulled on the sleeve of my blouse. I twisted my arm to the side to see what he was pointing out. At the back of my upper arm was a slash in the fabric with a pink line, a razor kind cut on my skin. I brushed my finger over it puzzled by the cut. It wasn’t there this morning and the blouse was practically brand new. I shrugged my shoulder at him.

“Maybe, it happened when I fell,” I pointed out. Demos got closer; he narrowed his eyes at it.

“It was cut with a blade… a really sharp one,” he stated. I laughed at his affirmation, it couldn’t and since when was he an expert at seeking out evidence?

“You would make a good cop,” I joked. He turned to me with a serious face. Grant giggled while holding his stomach.

“Actually she is right,” I rose my eyebrows at him for taking that joke seriously. Artificial sure has a weird sense of humor. As the Transfer moved across the city to familiar buildings I heard Grant sigh.

“Can we do something today? Since it’s such a lovely day,” Grant pleaded.

“No, Liliane needs to rest,” Demos crossed his arms over his chest. His words were final and I was happy with it. I didn’t want to go out or hang around crowded places.

“Then what about having our date at home? I could set the table, put on music and candles,” he turned to me pressing his hands together, praying. “Please, tell me you have candles hidden somewhere,” I smiled at his attempt at organizing a romantic dinner even though they didn’t eat.

“Who knows, maybe in some drawer in the kitchen,” I laughed. Demos frowned at me.

“Don’t encourage him. He will go on a treasure hunt around the house to find the damn thing,” commented Demos with a sour face. I watched the scenery moved away as Grant cheerfully made plans for our date. I could wear that little black dress that Lyla bought for me and tried to force on me when we had our girl’s night out. Maybe even wear some makeup. It has been a while since I last took care of myself. I could enjoy a day without worries. Doctor Patel was right, someone my age should be out partying instead of stressing about money. A slight smile pulled at the corner of my lips.

“I like it when you smile,” Demos whispered against my hair. I quickly turned away to hide my flushed face. He chuckled making me even more aware of my hot cheeks.

“I’m only stating my honest opinion. No need to feel shy about it,” Grant reached around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. He grinned at me.

“You’re pretty and smart. You should get rid of that dark cloud hanging above your head,” he gave me a little shake and I giggled. Their words went straight to my heart. It skipped a beat. I blinked away the tears welling up in my eyes.

“See, you’ve made her cry,” Demos frowned at Grant who feigned innocence. I laughed at both of them.

***

We got off at our stop and laughed all the way to our apartment. I was supposed to be sick and weak but I didn’t feel like going to sleep. We hung in the living room, I joined Demos on his couch. He mentioned that it was the only one to support his weight or something. The reason why he only sat on it. Grant settled on a cushion on the floor behind my legs. Demos browsed through the movies available in search of a decent one while my hand moved over the curls of Grant’s hair. They covered his delicate neck. Grant had a nice rosy tint while Demos wore his perfect tan proudly. I sighed as I ran my fingers in his hair.

“Can I braid your hair?” Demos stopped what he was doing to face me, Grant tilted his head up with a puzzled look. “What? What strange button did I just switch?” I gave out a nervous laugh.

“I’m not a toy,” stated Grant flatly. “Or a doll,” I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped my lips.

“Or a s.e.x doll,” added Demos to make things worse. “I don’t vibrate either,” he chuckled. My laughter died in an awkward choking sound. My face was flaming I didn’t know where to look. How did things get so weird? I got to my feet.

“Mm—I’m going to get a brush or something—for the, mm—the braids, I guess,” I stuttered and quickly went to seek refuge in my room. I rifled around my desk pretending to be busy as I tried to calm my racing heart. A large golden envelop sat over my desk. I paused and stared at it.

“Did someone left an envelope here?” I called from the room. When I picked it up a second smaller one fell to the floor. I picked both up and went to the living room completely forgetting about my quest to find a hairbrush.

“When did they arrive?” I waved the letters. Paper mail was very unusual and expensive. I tore the golden envelope as I sunk on the couch next to Demos. Grant knelt on his cushion with both hands supporting his face to peek at the content. A happy smile stretching from ear to ear.

“Have you ever seen paper mail before?” I waved the light shiny paper at Grant who grinned at me. On the header of the letter poking in bold letters was Sognare’s logo. It was their first bill. I squeezed my lips together.

“Well, I was kind of expecting the bill to roll in sooner or later. But to actually see one in the flesh. I’m surprised. A freaking golden bill on freaking paper. They are really expecting to milk money out of my account,” I sighed with a sour tone. They both faced me with conflicted expressions.

“I’ll get a job,” said Demos with a hint of distress. Grant jumped to his feet startling me.

“I’ll get a job too!” I giggled at his eagerness. Such a kid. I turned with a smile to the second letter. It was a plain white envelope with no name or address written on it. I flipped it back and forth then pulled it open. The top of a black and white image peeked from it. I pulled it and gasped at the image. My hand shook making the photo fall to the ground. My heart was racing against my ribcage. It couldn’t be.

“Liliane?” Demos sprung to his feet in seconds, he was at my side. Grant bent to pick the fallen picture. I pointed a trembling finger at it unable to utter a sound. Demos’ attention shifted from me to Grant.

“That’s a picture of us kissing—” Grant’s voice trailed off. Demos snatched the picture from him for a closer inspection. His eyes blazing blue.

“Who dropped it?” he shouted at Grant waving the object in the air. On the black and white picture scribbled in red, ‘FREAKS’.

“I don’t know. Jil gave me the Golden one saying a delivery guy dropped it yesterday. When I got back to the apartment, it was laying in front of the door. So I thought it was the mailman or something,” Demos crushed the picture in his hand and dashed for the door.

“Where are you going?” I called after him.

“Going to ask Jil for the footage of the security cameras. Lock the door when I’m gone!” he slammed the door leaving us stunt. Grant quickly crossed the room to lock the door. I took a step back bumping my ankle against the couch. I slid down holding my head.

“I don’t understand,” I looked up at Grant with wide eyes. “Who took those? What if they sharing it around—” I shook my head refusing to imagine the implications.

“Liliane, do you have enemies? Is everything ok at work or ex-boyfriends?” his eyes darted from me to the white envelope on the floor. “I haven’t even asked if you’ve dated other men before—damn it!” he knelt before me placing his hand on my lap.

“Liliane, I’ll protect you, so rely on me. Trust me,” creases formed on his forehead. I shook my head in denial.

“I-I heard some mean comments—at work. But that’s just mean people. I tried to ignore them,” he took my hands in his.

“Mean comments?” I shook my head slowly. “About? Tell me, Princess,” he urged.

“Ab-bout—they kept calling me—artificial freak,” I whispered. He sprung to his feet in rage. I flinched at his reaction. His hands squeezed in fists.

“And you didn’t say anything? You were harassed because of us and you kept it to yourself. Oh Liliane,” he grabbed his head. “No wonder, you were hesitant,” he sighed then peeked back at me while pressing one hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, Princess,” he sat beside me, tension easing from his body and took me in his arms. “I’m so going to make that up to you,” he chuckled against my hair then gently pulled away. “I’m going to search for those freaking candles. You better get ready for a really romantic date tonight,” he laughed as I held on the front of his t-shirt with trembling fingers. He flashed me his sweetest smile.

Grant got up, went to the kitchen creating havoc as he searched the drawers. Two quick knocks hit the front door. I run to greet Demos. I yanked it open and instantly regretted it. Powerful hands snatched me by the waist pulling me against the intruder. I gave out a surprised yap. Peeking beneath a dark cap was the grinning face of Jay Dawson. My eyes widened on recognition. What the—?

“Hello, s.l.u.t! How are you doing?” he breathed against my face. I shivered in disgust. “Where are your little s.e.x toys?” he pulled me closer to him. I opened my mouth but no sound came out.

“Let go of her!” shouted Grant from the middle of the living room. His eyes aquamarine. It made that bastard laughed harder.

“Did she tell you that I got fired? I was a f.u.c.k.i.n.g star at SolTec. She ruined it all. My whole goddamn life,” he fished something from the back of his belt, I struggled to get free. Grant held my eyes as he walked towards me. “Don’t try to pull your trips on me. What I took, no f.u.c.k.i.n.g soothe-talk tricks can stop me,” he pulled a sharp-looking knife and pressed it against my throat. My breath came out raspy. A crazy light danced in that bastard’s eyes. He grinned at me and pressed his face against my cheek. I flinched in horror.

“Liliane, look at me!” shouted Grant. The man ignored him, he lowered the blade, it was dangerously close to my skin. My eyes followed it as it went to my cleavage. I couldn’t concentrate on everything other than the blade.

“I’ve been dreaming of doing this,” he breathed against my neck. “You f.u.c.k.i.n.g s.l.u.t!” he grind his crotch against my thigh. A tear rolled down my cheek. I heard a crack as a fast-moving fist connected to the man’s jaw. He staggered back, the hand holding the knife made an arc in front of me missing my throat by little. I smacked into the floor, when I turned around Grant was holding his left arm. He stood between me and the intruder. Something soft fall on the floor with a thump. The guy was laughing hysterically while holding his bloody jaw.

“F.u.c.k.i.n.g garbage can—this is no an ordinary knife!” he glared at me. “Wait right there, till I’m done cutting that fake to pieces,” he snorted.

“Liliane! Don’t look!” I couldn’t. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the three severed fingers laying in a pool of white liquid.