Dustwalker by Tiffany Roberts

Dustwalker by Tiffany Roberts

Author:Tiffany Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2017-07-15T06:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY

By midday, Lara was tempted to leave. There were at least twenty buildings on this street alone, all of them full of stuff just begging to be picked. Why hadn’t Ronin thought of that?

Because he’s a scavenger, not a thief.

He was honest, but not in the way other bots had been. There was a thoughtfulness to Ronin’s honesty. He put real consideration into keeping his word, often going well beyond whatever his side of the bargain was. Providing for Lara, in the vague terms they’d agreed upon, would have meant the bare minimum for other bots.

But just because Ronin wouldn’t steal didn’t mean Lara couldn’t.

If it weren’t such a stupid thing to do, she’d go out now and poke around the nearby buildings. She didn’t think any of them were inhabited. Who would it hurt if some metal appliances or pieces of plastic disappeared? The only real risk would be if she was spotted by the gearheads.

She cast aside her thoughts of sneaking out as Tabitha’s face, eyes dull and glossy, flashed through her imagination. Lara was trapped here until Ronin returned.

The day wore on slowly, just as the others had while he was gone. Her fingers were still sore from sewing Ronin’s shirt, so she didn’t so much as look at the remaining cloth, and there wasn’t anything else to do downstairs. So, she went up into the attic and passed the time flipping through the pictures in the old books — even the ones full of naked women.

As she looked them over, Lara compared herself to these long-dead women. The similarities were slowly growing as time passed.

If she walked into the human settlement now, fully clothed, they’d know just from her face. They’d envy her, spurn her, call her a bot-banger and in the same breath lust after her.

What did Ronin see when he looked at her?

She smiled, recalling the way he’d touched her — like he couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough. He seemed fascinated by her skin. What did he feel when they came into contact? Did he compare her body to those of the too-perfect female synths?

It didn’t really matter, in the end. He’d chosen Lara, had married her.

Setting Ronin’s rifle aside, Lara rose onto her knees and gazed out the attic window, searching the road for Ronin’s approaching figure. Wishful thinking; he’d only left last night, and said he’d be back in a few days. This time, she doubted he’d return early. He was serious about earning enough for them to leave without having to look back.

He’d only just returned, they’d only just deepened their relationship, and he was gone again. But wasn’t it her fault? She’d been the one to suggest they leave home. She’d begged to go into the Dust with him, anywhere but—

Home? When had she started thinking of this place as home? It was a prison, a deathtrap, a locked cage within a camp full of enemies. Given that, she still saw it as home. As their home. She couldn’t step out the front door without risking her life, but in here, with Ronin, things were…good.



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