"Stop laughing like that," Charlie hisses, "it's giving me the creeps."
A wider smile comes across my face at his discomfort. He's strapped down to a mental table wearing only a grey medical gown. The man is at my complete mercy, but that's not why I'm laughing.
I'm starting to think we're a half-assed version of Frankenstein's monster. Does it make me Frankenstein? I am the catalyst for this process and a recipient of its perks.
Still, not why I'm laughing.
I'd probably be brutally judged for this thought, but... there's something about seeing a strong man all tied up and nowhere to go. His muscles are roiling and the bulge at the base of his abdomen has never been more front and center in my life. I'm thinking wild, deliciously disgusting thoughts about this man.
Maybe Chris would let me tie him up and suck him off? Would I take the cuffs off when I was done or keep his hands away while I ride him until we both orgasm? Decisions. Decisions.
Laughter is the only thing saving me and my thirsty thoughts. Chris pouting with his hands above his head and his body mine for the taking? Yes, please. Sign me up.
"Awww... is baby uncomfortable?"
He rolls his eyes. "Don't forget, Princess. When I'm out of these things, I'll be just like you."
I pretend to consider his words, lifting a hand to my chin. "I'm sure Chris wouldn't mind putting you on your ass."
"He'd have to get here fast enough." He lifts from the table, straining the bindings at his waist and wrists. "And I don't think he will."
"Big words coming from a man who is still tied down."
"Untie me and see what happens."
"Oh," I shrug a shoulder and point to the monitors hanging on the walls to his left. "I can't. Doctor's orders."
"You're the doctor."
"And I'm ordering you to remain strapped to the table. Do I need to ask Iris to tighten them? They seem a bit too loose."
"Are you scared of me, Princess?" Slowly, he studies me, eyes drawing down my frame with something akin to desire. I don't want to think these thoughts. They don't help either of us.
"Scared I'll have to kick your ass? Not in the least."
"I'll know the truth soon enough—being in your head and all."
My stomach drops.
I'd forgotten about the mental connection. It would be weird having a third person roaming around in my emotions. He, like Chris, would have a front-row seat to the shit show always performing in my mind.
Even now, when the tests were back and things looked good, there was a dark cloud hanging over the recesses of my thoughts. Doubts. Fears. Hopes. Dreams.
All of them wrap into a single incoherent march of information on the backs of Iris' updates and the possible upgrades to my system. Then, there are the designs I'm thinking of and the looming conversations with the nations and corporations I've cut off. Ryker is dealing with them—mostly—but they're demanding I show my face and explain my actions.
As if I have anything to explain to them...
They are the ones who defied me. They are the ones who let in an outside source. And they will pay for innovating and redesigning my systems.
Honestly, they should count their lucky stars I'm not selling to their competitors to destroy them. Yet, I'd never stomach the loss of innocent lives. Their people didn't cause this mess and they should never bear the burden.
Which begs the question: how will these leaders ever learn?
"If it concerns you so much, maybe we should hold off on doing this?" Charlie suggests, eyes narrowed on my face.
"And have my father keep me hidden for longer? I don't think so."
His face slips into a mask, becoming unreadable. "If you don't want to do this, I don't want to force you. This should be your decision."
"It's not my decision."
He scoffs. "It's your tech. I'm sure we could sneak you in and out. Ryker wouldn't know a thing."
"Oh, he'd know." I laugh. "I don't know how, but he always knows and he won't take kindly to us lying to him. You simply being fired and not scratched off the earth would be a blessing. Trust me."
"If it wasn't for his insistence, would you be offering augmentation to me?"
His question stalls the sarcasm resting on the edge of my tongue, and for the first time in the last two days, I really look at Charlie. He's risking his life for this procedure, knowing he can never return to who he was before. And if things go wrong, he'll die, and no one will ever know why.
The forms are complete. He's signed a waiver, completed his non-disclosure agreement and reviewed the extensive listing of augmentation implants he'll receive. It barely took four hours for him to read and sign everything.
While I know people will say I lied to him or was needlessly cruel for the terms I imposed, I'm hoping he doesn't believe so. I have money. I have no issue paying out millions to his family if something happens to him.
But money won't bring him back. Money won't replace him. Money won't allow his family to create new memories with him.
He'd said he didn't want to return to his old life, and I believe him. Yet, I can't shake the unbreakable need to give him the option to visit. If he so chose, I want him to have a life outside of this place—outside of me.
"I think your silence says enough," He mutters, fighting the cuffs on his wrists. "We shouldn't do this. I won't tell anyone anything I've learned and I'll remain a part of your personal guard, but this isn't right."
"Charlie... wait—-"
"No. Just let me up. Gatlin and I will get you offsite and to the office for your needs. Okay?"
"No." I say.
"No?"
I nod. "No."
"Look, Princess, we don't have time for this shit. Let me up."
"Are you backing out?"
"Am I backing out?" He shouts. Disbelief colors every word and his electric blue eyes are wide. "Are you kidding me? I've signed all your silly forms, agreed to keep this secret, and tied myself to you for the rest of my days—no matter how few they may be! How could you ask me if I'm backing out?"
"You're the one demanding to be released."
"You didn't answer my question." He spits.
Shrugging, I break eye contact. If I stare too long, my hands tremble. I don't think I've ever noticed how different his and Chris' eyes are.
Chris' are dark, like the sea right before a thunderstorm. Charlie's are two shades lighter and brighter when he's smiling or angry. They're glowing—incandescent in their brilliance.
"You didn't let me."
"Well, I'm waiting." His glare should make me afraid or angry or any number of emotions, but all I can focus on is the hurt he's trying to hide. "I don't have all day, Princess."
"You have plenty of time." I wave away his excuse as if it means nothing and move toward him, settling on the edge of his bed. "I want you to have this augmentation done, and I want you to become a permanent member of my team."
Suspicious, he continues to stare at me in mutinous silence. He has every reason to think whatever it is he's thinking. If Ryker hadn't forced this through, we wouldn't be having this conversation.
Later, when things relaxed and we were more comfortable, I could have sat down with Chris and explained what I was thinking before approaching Charlie with the proposition of augmentation. This entire thing is backward. It's too late now—time to pay the piper.
Sucking in a deep breath, I gulp down the sterile scent of the operating room. It's similar to the others, a round room with a large pedestal sitting in the center. Charlie rests on a metal bed on the platform, floating above the ground.
There are few adornments in the room. Outside of a few medical charts and an abstract painting, there is little to see outside of the massive TV screens hewn into the walls. They curve, following the solid edge of the room. Solid marble with flecks of gold and black, the floors shine under the heavy LED lighting.
A bay of mechanical arms rests above us, closed behind two heavy steel doors. They open with a soft swish, flaring the air and the chemical smell anew. We're at the cusp—nearly there.
"I won't lie to make you feel better or try to alleviate your fears by being deceitful, Charlie. In all honesty, before Ryker suggested it, I hadn't considered you as a candidate for augmentation with real depth."
Half truth.
"See! That's why we n—"
"Let me finish, Mr. Hendrix." I cut him off at the knees, scorching him with a glare ten times stronger than his. "Though it would be dishonest and cruel of me to not admit I'd considered it to a minor degree. I don't know what augmentation will do to us. I don't have tests, results and extensive data from years of research.
All I have are the few months I and Chris have been functioning since the transition. The last thing I want to do is condemn anyone to a slow, painful death. Augmentation—the incredible changes we make to our bodies—is a largely unexplored field, especially with the way we're doing it."
Gradually, his shoulders square, and the tension curling his hands into fists relaxed. My response isn't what he was expecting—I can see it. But it's the best I have to offer.
"You thought about augmenting me before Ryker suggested it?"
"Yes. I consider you a vital part of my team and, dare I say, my family."
"Good." He nods to himself. "Can we get this thing over with? I appreciate the sentiment, Princess, but we've got history to make."
"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Me wanting to augment you was all you needed to hear?"
He gulps hard and tears his eyes from me. The suspense is killing me. I can't wait to get into his head. Is Charlie shy under all the armor he keeps around himself?
Is he sweeter than I thought? Could the glimpses I've seen of the man underneath be what he's tried so hard to hide behind with his wit? I'm so desperate to find out, I shoot to my feet.
"No one wants to be where they are unwanted, Princess."
"You're wanted, Charlie," I reassure him. "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner."
A wicked grin blazes across his face. "I think you should say it again with my c—"
"Ah! Nope! Stop right there."
His sentence breaks off, but his smile doesn't move an inch. He's enjoying this far too much for a man about to undergo major surgery. We've done our due diligence.
The last time he ate was 24 hours ago. He's been shaved from head to toe, there are no pieces of metal in or on him, and he's not a redhead—so no concern for anesthesia. The list checks off easily and I offer a cautious smile.
"Are you ready?" He nods. "Count back from 100."
When his mouth opens, a mask falls over his face and a mechanical arm falls from the ceiling. Slowly, I saunter toward the exit to go above to watch. I'm heartsick already, anxious and riddled with guilt.
Chris' augmentation was horrendous and I can only hope Charlie's will be different. He's completely healthy and in no danger. I'm more informed now, and the process is streamlined.
He'll be fine.
I hold those words close to my heart. A mantra. The only things I'll have left of him if I fuck this up again.
"Take care of him, Iris."
There's a nagging at the base of the stomach. It's been there the past few days, and the more time wears on, the worse it gets. Frowning, I hug myself tightly.
"Of course, Blue." Her calm, measured voice replies. "Charlie's vitals are strong and all tests indicate he is an appropriate candidate for the augmentation."
"Yes, you're right. Thank you, Iris."
"Your lunch is waiting for you in the theater as well as Chris."
And then the nagging changes course, how will he react to a decision he had no say in? Nothing compares to the text message I receive from Ryker as I make my way to Chris.
Take a look at this file. I'm expanding your security team.