Chance heard the door slam shut behind Verity, as she rushed out of the bar. What would possess her to want to try and talk to Garvan herself instead of letting him take care of things for her? Why did she have to be so stubborn? You'd think a girl with that much brains and beauty would know how dangerous someone like Garvan could be. It was like she was brand-new, from another planet with no idea what was going on in the world around her.

Enver shook his head with a frown. “Go on. Get the girl.”

“Whatever, it’s not like that.”

“Sure dude, it's never like that.” He returned to his work putting last night’s prizefighter back together after having his cybernetic arm almost completely ripped off by his opponent. Motherfucker was a beast though. Even with a nearly severed arm, he’d managed to beat the other cyborg into submission. His opponent couldn’t even try and get up. It would be almost impossible for him to dominate again tonight without the self-repairing nanites to replicate any damaged parts. But he had a win to defend and a hole of debt to dig out of, so it was up to Enver and Chance to put him back together enough to fight again tonight. Chance just hoped he survived another night. He’d seen too many men die in the ring. But Garvan's rules were brutal. You fight till you clear your ledger.

“You got this?” he asked the young medic with a wave to the bloody man.

“Yeah, yeah, no sweat. Go chase after sweet-cheeks.”

“We gotta find you a girl, a sexbot, a boyfriend, or something. You’re getting weird.” Chance climbed out from behind the bar and slapped Enver on the back with a chuckle before heading out the front door.

What he found made his heart stop cold.

Verity crouched against the wall, her head between her legs and her hands clutching her bag like her life depended on it. Her already pale skin was white and had a sickly sheen. She fit in perfectly with the rest of the city in the mid-morning light.

“Verity?”

She shook her head and didn’t meet his eyes as he stepped closer. What had gotten her so upset? “Are you sick?”

Chance thought back through their brief conversation, her darting eyes, the way she paled when Enver had stuck his fingers between the prize fighter’s shoulder and arm… His arm. She’d probably never seen a cyborg injury before. Had never been up close to the reality of how unnatural men like him really were. The grease, oil, and metal all winding together to invade an otherwise healthy human. Some people couldn’t handle it.

Like Rayanne.

He dismissed the image of his ex, sick and still revolted by what he’d become, and threw it out of his mind.

“Listen, if you can’t stomach shit like this, you really shouldn’t be working here.”

“I… I think I’m gonna pass out…” Her voice came out soft and distant, like a feather falling on a pile of concrete. “Why was that happening in there? Shouldn’t he see a doctor?”

“Where else should it happen?” he hardened his voice and leaned against the wall, staring down at the back of her neck, as she took deep breaths. She had better be careful. Too much of this fresh Cyn City air could kill you. He knew first hand.

“A hospital? Somewhere with antiseptic, antibiotics, and clean water.”

Chance barked out a cruel laugh and pushed away from the wall, standing in the barren road to stare at the top of her head. “I know you’re new around here, but if this is how you react to seeing a little grease and gears, do you seriously think people like us are welcome in hospitals?”

“I… what?”

“There’s no place to take him. Enver does the best he can with the training he got in the army, but he’s no cynker. And doctors don’t treat cyborgs. Without some real cash, we aren’t gonna be able to get him to a cynker worth his gears. You got that kind of money, sugar? You gonna spend it on a monster like me? I didn’t think so.”

Verity tilted her face up, and at the sight of her watery eyes and pale flesh, Chance’s heart softened. There was a sheen of sweat on her brow like she really had been about to be sick. Sick over seeing something like him. His thoughts turned black. He knew that look. The pain of caring about someone who looked at him with disgust and disdain was too familiar, and no matter how much Verity had captured his imagination, he wasn’t about to put himself through that again.

“You know what? Fuck you,” he said, turning on his heal and storming back toward the door.

“Chance, wait.” Her voice barely reached his ears.

He stopped with his hand on the knob, the vein in his neck throbbing, as he tried not to rip the whole fucking door off its hinges. “What?”

“Is he your friend?”

“Who?”

“The man in there… with the… injury.”

“Not exactly. But he’s an okay guy.”

“It’s good that you’re helping him then.” She took another deep breath and straightened, leaning her head against the wall. “When I saw him in there, all that blood. It just surprised me. I mean the smell alone usually makes me gag, but seeing him bleeding onto the floor like that… I hope he’s okay.”

Chance took his hand off the door and stared at her. Her profile was perfect, soft cheeks, small uptilted nose, gentle brow. When she turned to him and smiled he lost his place in the universe. Damn it, his reaction to her had him completely off his game. It was like she had grabbed onto him and pulled him under the ocean’s surface, beating him against the shore before dragging him out to sea with the undertow. Those wide eyes, so earnest, pulled him in and captured his imagination. Was it possible she wasn’t like everyone else?

“You don’t care that he’s a cyborg?”

Verity tilted her head like she hadn’t heard him. “Why would I care about that?”

Chance let his shoulders relax and stepped closer. “Most people do. They treat us like we’re less than human, less than machines really. Because we chose this.”

Verity shrugged. “You must have had a good reason. I’m sure that man in there did too. We do what we have to do to stay alive, right?”

Her eyes darted to the left and Chance saw a hint of darkness there that he hated. What had happened to her to make her think the choice he’d made could ever be reasonable?

“He has a family. Wife and two kids. He sends them to school in the upper city, costs an arm and a leg.” He chuckled darkly. “Literally.”

“That sounds like a good reason to me.” She shrugged and gave him a weak smile.

“What did you need from Garvan?”

“Oh, that. Um… my landlord raised the rent, and I don’t have the credits. I work tonight but I’m supposed to be off tomorrow, and I really need the extra shift.” She spoke in a rush, her eyes filling with tears again. “Wicksham’s already doing me a favor and has been really nice letting me crash and pay at the end of the month, but if I can’t make enough I have to find somewhere else. I gave him my last credit this morning.”

She paused long enough for the roll of her stomach to turn into a loud gurgling growl.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Chance asked.

Verity looked at her feet. “Doesn’t matter, I can’t risk not having a place to sleep.”

“Shit.” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back in the hopes it would stay out of his way but knowing it would just fall back down in a few seconds. “All right, don’t worry about tomorrow. I’ll get you on the books.”

“You can do that? I mean, I know you work for Garvan somehow—downstairs—but I don’t really know what happens there. Something to do with bloody cyborgs getting stitched up at the bar I gather.”

Chance stared down at her, trying to infuse his words with significance. The last thing he wanted was her getting mixed up in more of Garvan’s business. At least, for now, her work was above board and on the books. Unlike his. “You don’t want to know, sugar. Or be involved in all that, trust me.”

“I do. Trust you, I mean.” She looked up at him again with those eyes, and he knew she meant it. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, this girl trusted him.

“Aww fuck.” He pushed away from the wall. “Well, come on.” He started walking east toward Old Broadway where some of the more reputable businesses still existed.

“What are we doing?” Verity stumbled behind him, but he didn’t slow down, just waited for her to make her way to his side. “I don’t understand.”

“We can’t have you passing out on the job tonight, and from the sound of it, your stomach is about ready to take knife and fork to your liver if we don’t get some food in you.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I know.”

“I can’t pay you back. I have to pay rent and then save up for next month.”

“I know.”

“So… what do you want?”

Chance stopped walking, and she slammed into his side before her body had a chance to slow. She reached out and steadied herself by placing her hand on the large metal plate where his bicep should be, instead of the internal gears and cogs of his enhancement. Her touch traveled through the neural pathways wired to his nervous system and connected to his arm. Her fingers were warmer than the metal, and she held on a moment longer than it took to right herself.

“What exactly are you asking me?” Chance ground out.

“Everyone wants something right? You keep warning me to be careful here and not to let my guard down. So, what do you want? I don’t have any credits.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“So, you’re taking me to breakfast out of the goodness of your heart? Because you’re just that nice of a guy? The kind of guy who works for Garvan and arranges makeshift surgery in a bar? What am I supposed to think, Chance?” Now that she’d gotten her bearing, the words flew at him like little throwing stars, each drawing blood as they sliced into him. “Everyone. Wants. Something.”

“Look here. If I wanted something from you, you’d know exactly what it was, and I’d get it, without bribing you with a meal or doing you favors. I’d get it because you’d be begging for it, sugar.”

He’d gotten close enough to smell her minty breath and the infuriating constant scent of lavender that followed her around. As he spoke, her eyes dilated and drifted to his lips. Fuck if the idea of this girl wanting him didn’t make him half hard. But shit like that wasn’t in the cards for him. Not ever again. He was just helping out a girl who clearly didn’t know how to take care of herself.

“Now, if you don’t want to eat, fine, but I’m getting my ass pancakes with those cloned blueberries on top, and if we’re really lucky, they’ll have a fresh pot of coffee on. You coming?”

“I…” Verity took another look at his lips and licked her own before releasing a shaky breath. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Chance took off toward Jimmie’s Diner, far enough away he didn’t have to worry about anyone associated with Ball & Joint coming around, but close enough he didn’t have to call a rickshaw in case little miss couldn’t keep up.