Debra Driza - Mila 2.0 - Renegade

I closed my eyes for a minute as my android brain performed another scan. This time to make sure there weren’t any cameras or secret security systems hidden in the shadows. This amusement park seemed rather antiquated, so maybe the owners didn’t have the right technology in place. We did hop their fence, after all.

Advanced perimeter scan.

Video capture capabilities: Zero.

Alarm triggers: None.

I opened my eyes to Hunter biting his lip with anticipation. Resistance was futile.

“All right. One lap on the wheel.”

“You won’t regret it,” he said.

That was the problem. I didn’t regret any of the time I spent with him. Not even when it wasn’t in his best interests.

We jogged over to the entrance gate of the ride, our fingers loosely intertwined. I climbed onto the bench seat while Hunter got behind a few of the controls, his brow furrowing together as he tried to familiarize himself with them.

“You okay over there?” I asked, my legs swinging back and forth, the tips of my shoes skimming the ground below.

Hunter glanced up and winked. “Piece of cake.”

He flipped a switch and the frame of the ride lit up with hundreds of tiny white lights. My stomach plummeted and we weren’t even moving.

Wattage: 10,000 watts.

Visibility: High.

A voice inside my head said I should put a stop to this. All of it—this date; this relationship or whatever it was. Especially when a giddy-looking Hunter dashed over, slid next to me on the seat, his eyes beaming.

What was I doing? Every second I spent with him was putting him in danger. I just had to accept that, no matter how much it scared me. No matter how lonely I’d be without him.

Without anyone.

“I have it on autopilot. Prepare to be dazzled,” he said, locking the bar into place. It reverberated with a metallic clang and suddenly I felt trapped—like I was being held in that coffin-like device within Holland’s nightmarish compound.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” I mumbled.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Hunter asked, and I heard the skepticism in his voice.

I shrugged, even though that so wasn’t the case.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he said softly. “I can go stop it now.”

The disappointed slump of his shoulders sealed it for me. “No, it’s fine.”

With a slight jerk, the huge wheel began turning and we were slowly lifted toward the sky, our feet dangling beneath us.

“I have a confession,” I said quietly.

These words came out and I hadn’t meant them to.

“Yeah?” He looked at me intently.

More silence. Even though I was trying desperately to eke out the truth. Then I realized I could just simply break things off with him. Tell him we have to go our separate ways after this. I didn’t even need to give him a real reason. I could just say what boys in Clearwater would tell my ex-friend Kaylee when they were done with her: It was for the best.

But eventually, the truth won out.

Well, not exactly.

“I’ve never ridden a Ferris wheel.”

Hunter looked at me, stunned, before his lips twitched up. “You see? This is what happens when you like the carousel. You go all soft.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. Hunter joined in.

He wanted to be here with me. Why was still a bit of a mystery, but I knew that sending him away—whether I told him who I was or not—was going to hurt him. Not physically, of course. But there was no way he’d understand. Calling him across the country to see me one minute, sending him away the next. He’d think I was playing some kind of cruel joke.

I turned my head and looked out toward the edge of the park, watching as the world below grew smaller. I started telling myself I could spare him that hurt. I could protect him, better than I protected Mom. Together we could make it.

Together was for the best.

“Not bad, huh,” Hunter said, gesturing at the view.

Scattered lamp posts lit the boardwalk, the moon reflected off the ocean. It was all so beautiful, peaceful. The salty breeze wafted over us. Hunter’s fingers lightly squeezed my hand, and I realized he was doing it without thought.

Like we were a couple.

As we reached the top, I wanted to stay here forever, just Hunter and me above the fray, away from all the troubles that plagued me. I found myself wondering if finding Richard Grady was something I needed to do right now. Hunter only had a week with me—maybe the search could wait. We’d still have to go on the road, though. There were too many people trying to track me.

Actually, capture and dismantle me was more like it. If Hunter was with me when I was found by Holland or the VO, I didn’t even want to think about what they might do to him.

“I have a confession, too,” he said, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned to face him as the wind ruffled his hair. “Should I be scared?”

“No,” he replied. “Well, maybe a little bit.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

He blew out a nervous breath. “Mila, I really like you.”

An embarrassingly goofy grin started forming on my lips so I quickly tried to cover my mouth with my hand.

“Wait, did you already know?” he said, smiling.

“I had a feeling,” I said.

Too many feelings, in fact.

Always.

“Well, I don’t just say that to every girl I meet,” he said as the Ferris wheel embarked on its second revolution. He paused a beat, and then added, “Only every third one or so.”

I poked him in the ribs, and he fake winced before pulling me closer. “I’m joking. I only say that to girls I travel cross-country for. Which, to date, has only been you,” he whispered, his mouth close to my ear.

I closed my eyes, forgetting how many times we circled, forgetting everything but how close Hunter was. Tonight was special, a memory that was real and that I could call my own. No one would be able to take this moment away from me. Ever.

Another reason why I wasn’t sure I could let him go.

He made me want to live a life I wanted to remember.

My sleep cycle ended at precisely 8 a.m. the next morning. I opened my eyes to Hunter sprawled across his mattress, one hand flung out to the side, the other curled up on the pillow. The blue comforter had long ago been kicked to the floor, and the sheet was bunched up over his chest. He had earbuds in his ears, totally unaware that we needed to remain vigilant and alert to any strange sounds. Unaware that I was a moving target.

Unaware that I wasn’t worthy of his Ferris wheel confession.

He looked so innocent, with his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. And so very kissable, with his lips softly parted.

The mattress squeaked as I climbed out of my bed, but Hunter still didn’t move. Carefully, I sifted my fingers through his hair, relishing the silken feel of the strands. He breathed deeply, but thankfully didn’t stir.

I knew I shouldn’t be touching him. No, I didn’t deserve to touch him. What I should do was send him home, where he would be safe. My hand wavered hesitantly, before I gave in and traced the curve of his cheek, the rasp of five-o’clock shadow on his jaw.

His eyes flew open, and his hand shot up.

Threat detected: Feint back.

My body started following the android command and then I remembered—this was Hunter. With effort, I forced myself to relax and let him tug my hand over until my palm covered his mouth and I felt his lips press a soft, feather-light kiss to its center.