Chapter Twelve
TRIGGER WARNING: abuse (physical and verbal), rape, blatant misogyny
Tina and Chris were less than thrilled that Wren had called in sick, as they were in the middle of a case, but they expressed their well-wishes. Wren promised that she was only a phone call away. That seemed to placate Chris, though Tina grumbled a bit.
Hank left for work early, muttering that someone had to go. Connor's LED flickered yellow but it quickly changed to blue. Wren sat on her hands and looked at Connor, who looked back, his expression passive.
"So… What should we do?" Wren moved her hands and palmed her thighs.
Connor looked as if he were trying to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. Wren held back a laugh. "I… I don't know. I haven't taken time for myself to explore what Detroit has to offer."
"Well, it's a big city. There are probably tourist attractions. Museums, things like that," Wren said. Connor tilted his head, a fuzzy look covering his eyes. Wren knew that expression –he was scanning something.
The focus returned to Connor's eyes. "Would you prefer a science or art museum?"
Wren considered for a moment. "Science."
"The Detroit Natural History museum seems to have a large variety of exhibits," Connor suggested.
"Okay, sure. Let's go." Wren grinned.
Connor nodded. "I'll call a cab."
Wren dipped her head and slipped into the bathroom to change clothes. She tilted her head, examining her reflection for a moment. She put on mascara and filled in her eyebrows. She added a little concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes, too. She drew back from the mirror, satisfied that she did not look dead. She rubbed the back of her neck. It wasn't like Connor cared about her appearance, so why did she care if she looked dead or not? Connor knew she barely slept. What did it matter if her eyelashes were longer and darker to bring out her eyes? Who was she trying to impress?
Wren scrunched her lips together, scowling at her reflection. She was wearing makeup for herself, of course.
She stepped out of the bathroom. Connor stood as Wren padded into the living room. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her jacket. Connor glanced at her and his indicator flashed. Wren knew that meant he was storing information of some sort, but she had no idea what he could be storing at the moment. They stepped out of Hank's house and Connor locked the front door. Wren slid into the waiting automated taxi first. Connor input the address, and the taxi took off.
Wren peered out the window of the taxi, watching the skyscrapers flit by. She winced as a car merged close to theirs and moved away from the window. Connor glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. They arrived at the Natural History Museum and stepped out of the cab once Connor paid. Wren tried to protest, but Connor assured her that he did not mind.
"Let me get the tickets, then," Wren insisted.
Connor frowned. "I really don't mind, Wren."
"I do," said Wren, stepping up to the ticket booth before Connor could. "Two adults, please."
"Would you like to add on any of the special exhibits?" asked the cashier.
Wren looked at Connor, her eyebrows raised. Wren looked back at the cashier. "What would you recommend?"
"I'd do the Space Dome," said the cashier.
"Then we'll do that," said Wren, grinning.
"Sixty-seven dollars and twenty-three cents," said the cashier.
Wren handed over her debit card. Connor shifted beside her, his arm brushing hers. Wren smiled at the cashier as she received their tickets and her card back. Wren walked as she placed her card back in her wallet, which she placed in her jacket pocket. She handed Connor's ticket to him.
"You didn't have to do that," said Connor, his brow furrowing.
"I wanted to," Wren chirped. They stepped through the main entrance doors and into the main hall of the museum. Wren widened her eyes at the sight of two dinosaur skeleton displays, a diplodocus and an allosaurus, locked in eternal combat. Four Grecian pillars adorned the sides of the main hall, separating the different corridors. Connor stared up at the dinosaurs, his eyes wide. Wren smiled to herself.
"I didn't realize they were so…" Connor trailed off, his brow pinching.
"Big?" Wren guessed.
"Yeah…"
"So CyberLife programmed you with information about dinosaurs?" Wren said, lifting a brow.
"I was equipped with a basic knowledge of most subjects. Though, admittedly, my knowledge of crime scenes is far more advanced than my knowledge of dinosaurs," Connor replied.
"Well, what do we want to look at first?" Wren asked, glancing at the signs directing visitors to different exhibits. "There's the dinosaur exhibit, the human exhibit, the space exhibit and the animal exhibit."
Connor looked toward the different halls, his indicator flashing. "I downloaded a map of the building," he informed Wren, "and if we start with the animal exhibit and make our way through the human, then dinosaur and then space exhibit, we'll complete a circle."
"Sounds good," said Wren, leading the way to the animal exhibit, a bounce in her step. Connor walked in step with her, his hands clasped behind his back. The animal exhibit was divided into parts according to type of animal. They explored the mammal hall first. Wren walked past the stuffed polar bear exhibit before a thought occurred to her. She twirled on her heel and walked backward so that she could look at Connor. "There are android animals, right?"
"Correct."
"Can they go deviant?" Wren queried, still walking backward. Connor reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, guiding her gently around a child who had fled his mother.
Connor released his grip on Wren and frowned. "I don't know. I highly doubt it."
Wren shrugged and turned around again. They left the mammal hall and entered a large room lit with blue lights. In the center of the room was a massive, cylindrical tank that stretched from floor to ceiling. Inside, all sorts of fish swam in colorful schools. Stingrays swam with the fish, flapping their fins like wings. Wren widened her eyes at the lovely sight. She led the way to get a closer look, Connor following.
Connor pointed to a few orange and blue fish. "That's a dwarf gourami."
Wren wrinkled her brow as she looked at Connor. "Okay, did you just scan that or did you already know that?"
"I knew that."
"Why on Earth do you know that?" Wren laughed.
"My very first mission, I worked a hostage case. The family I was helping had a fish tank, and it had been shot. They had a pet dwarf gourami. It was on the floor, and I picked it up and placed it back in the tank," Connor explained.
Wren stared at him, a dazed smile on her face. "You saved a fish?"
"I saved a fish," Connor confirmed, his lips twitching. He frowned, leaning back slightly. "That was the first time I noticed an increase in my software instability."
"So… You were already on the path to deviancy, even on your first day," said Wren.
"Yes, I suppose so," said Connor. His brow furrowed.
Wren nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey, how people treat animals is good way to judge if they're a good person or not."
A small smile tugged at Connor's lips. He glanced down at her. "Thank you."
Wren nodded and looked toward the tank, her eyes following the stingrays. "That was your first mission ever?"
"Yes."
"Was it the first time you'd been outside?"
"Yes."
"What day was it?"
"August 15, 2038," said Connor, his tone tinged with a question.
"So… That's like your birthday?"
"Androids don't have birthdays," said Connor.
Wren looked at him. "Well, not exactly, but… I don't know… Never mind."
Connor's brow pinched, but he said nothing for a moment. Wren turned her attention back to the rays.
"If reincarnation's real, I want to come back as one of those," she said, pointing to the stingrays. Connor glanced at them. Wren's eyes followed the fluid movements of the stingrays, warmth permeating her chest.
"They are beautiful," said Connor quietly. Wren smiled at him before leading the way through the corridor toward the human section.
"You don't believe in an afterlife, do you?" Wren asked as they trekked down the hall.
"I don't think so," said Connor. "I doubt there's a heaven for androids."
Wren's heart sank. A frown creased her face. She glanced up at Connor, but he stared ahead. "You don't think you have a soul?"
"I don't know."
Wren looked ahead. "I think you do."
Connor was quiet for several heartbeats. Wren stole a glance at him. The familiar pucker of his brow hardened the lines of his face. His eyes trailed to the floor. "I… I'm not sure what to say, Wren."
"That's okay," Wren assured him, "you don't always have to have an answer for everything."
They entered the human exhibit, which detailed the great achievements and tragedies of human history. Connor and Wren spent an extensive amount of time in the Greek section, trying to name the Greek gods based on their paintings. They moved on to a section on the Titanic.
Wren tilted her head. Something in the back of her mind tugged. A memory, fuzzy and blurred with static, surfaced. Wren, of course, failed to flesh the memory into something she could claim. She pushed a sharp breath through her nostrils.
"Are you alright?" Connor queried.
"This is triggering some sort of memory, but I can't see it," she replied quietly. "Apparently the Titanic was important to me in my past."
She moved on before Connor could offer her an answer. They paused in front of the World War II exhibit. Wren's eyes trailed over the horrifying pictures of tortured and starving people and the tremendous amount of bodies. She shuddered and folded her arms over her chest.
"Do you think we'll go to war with Russia?" she asked.
"I don't know," murmured Connor. "I hope not."
"Yeah," Wren huffed, "me too."
They tore the eyes away from the exhibit and continued through the rest of the human section. They stopped at the end, where an exhibit on androids stood. Wren widened her eyes. The museum had biocomponents on display, even the head of an android without the synthetic skin.
These machines were created to alleviate the difficulties from people's lives.
"That's insensitive," Wren scowled, tightening her folded arms.
"It's alright," Connor assured her, "I don't expect everyone to accept the idea of androids as a new species right away."
"Yeah," said Wren, "but they could take down this exhibit. Or update it."
"Perhaps it's good to remember where we came from," Connor replied, his eyes on the biocomponents. Wren glanced up at him.
"Come on. The next section is dinosaurs." She grabbed his sleeve and tugged him along. They hurried down the corridor to the dinosaur section, slowing when they passed through its threshold. The breath hitched in Wren's throat as she gazed up at the bones of dinosaurs. A tyrannosaurus rex towered above her. Wren glanced at Connor, whose lips parted. His eyebrows raised as he tilted his head back to stare at the T-Rex. They moved along, pointing at the pterodactyl suspended from cables above them.
Wren giggled when she saw a set of megalodon jaws. She hurried over to them and stood inside the massive maw. "This thing could've swallowed me in one bite!"
Connor stood on the other side of it. "I'm glad it's not around anymore."
Wren shuffled out from behind the maw. "Here, you get inside. I'll take your picture."
Connor frowned. "Why?"
"You need something to decorate your desk," said Wren. She held up her phone as Connor circled around the megalodon jaws. He stood in the middle, looking a little perplexed. "Smile!"
Connor's lips quirked with an awkward smile. Wren snorted and took the picture. She grinned at him as he returned to her side to peer down at the result. He glanced at her. "Would you like one?"
"Sure," Wren chirped. She placed her phone in his hand and scurried back into the megalodon's mouth. A woman approached as Connor held up Wren's phone to take the picture.
"Excuse me?" queried the woman. Connor and Wren glanced at her. The woman smiled. "Would you like me to take a picture of both of you?"
"Yeah, that would be great," said Wren, grinning. Connor hesitated, but handed Wren's phone to the woman and joined Wren in the megalodon's jaws. "Pretend you like me." Wren muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
"I do like you," Connor replied.
Wren tried to hide widening smile. She placed an arm around Connor's waist. He draped an arm over Wren's shoulders with some guidance. The woman took the picture and handed Wren's phone back to her. Wren thanked the woman and looked at the picture, a smile at her lips. Her chest warmed at the sight.
They entered the next room, where a gargantuan dinosaur called the titanosaur took up the entire room. Its tail stuck out one doorway. Its body filled half the room. Its neck extended the rest of the room and out into the hall. Wren approached the titanosaur's leg, her eyes wide.
"Its femur is bigger than me!" she breathed. She glanced at Connor, who seemed just as stunned to see such a magnificent creature. "It's really amazing that these animals used to walk the Earth." Wren said as they headed toward the space exhibit.
"Androids have a considerably short history," said Connor, his eyebrows gathering.
"Well, you'll probably have a future and humans won't."
"I hope we have a future," said Connor. Wren glanced at him. "Humans and androids."
"I got what you meant."
"Oh."
Wren's lips tugged with another smile as they entered the Space Dome. It was a massive dome that projected holographic stars, nebulae, planets and comets. It showed the constellations. Wren and Connor entered the dark room and gazed around at the holographs, their lips parted in awe.
"Makes you feel small, huh?" Wren asked, her arm pressed against Connor's.
"Very small," Connor agreed.
"I saw a vintage bookstore on the way here," Wren muttered, her knuckles brushing against Connor's. "Wanna go?"
"Yes."
…
Wren beelined for the poetry section once they arrived at the bookstore. Something in her drew her to the poetry, and she was determined to follow that instinct. It meant that something from her past connected her to it. Wren reached the shelf, pushing away the shriveled feeling in her chest when she saw how small the selection was. She grabbed a Sylvia Plath anthology.
"I think I used to enjoy poetry," she explained to Connor, barely looking at him as she flipped through the pages. "I enjoyed it some when Prometheus gave me time to myself."
The limited space forced Connor to stand closer to Wren. She tried to ignore just how close he was. She felt his chest pressed to her back. Heat prickled the back of her neck. "Do you have a favorite poet?" Connor queried, his voice low and right next to her ear.
Wren tensed. She placed the Sylvia Plath anthology on the shelf and dragged her fingers along the spines. "I'm not sure. I read a lot of Plath and Rupi Kaur while I was with Prometheus, but they didn't expand my collection –"
Her fingers stopped on an anthology for William Blake, a poet from the romantic period. Her hands trembled as a memory glitched in her mind's eye. She pulled the anthology from the shelf and a lump formed in her throat. "I'm a romantic…" she murmured, opening the book. The spine crackled.
"What?" Connor queried.
Wren's brow pinched. She flipped past poems – "The Sick Rose," "The Tyger," –hoping to solidify the memory. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had not prayed in years, but she begged God, whoever they were, to let her remember something.
She walked along the trail, the tall pines around them emitting a stronger evergreen scent thanks to the fresh rainfall. Jonah walked in step with her, their hands intertwined.
"You know," said Jonah, grinning toothily at her, "we've been together for nearly a year and I don't think I know your favorite color."
"Green," said Wren, releasing Jonah's hand to extend her arms. "Like the forest."
Jonah shook his head, smiling. "You're such a romantic sap, Wren."
"If by romantic, you're referring to the literary movement, then yes."
"Literary movement?" Jonah queried, his smile freezing.
Wren nodded. "You know, like poetry? William Blake? John Keats? Samuel Taylor Coleridge?"
"Okay, I get it," Jonah snapped, his smile gone. His eyes glittered as he glared at Wren. Her enthusiasm withered under his stare. "You don't need to flaunt your superior intelligence."
Wren flinched. "I wasn't trying to…"
"You always fucking do this. You act like you're so much smarter than me just because you went to college. Newsflash, you're not a genius. You're a fucking dance major, for Christ's sake," Jonah spat.
"I… I just like poetry, chill out," Wren said, her voice wavering.
"Don't tell me to fucking chill out!"
Wren's heart raced as Jonah stomped toward her, a shadow passing over his face. "Jonah, please! I wasn't trying to make you feel inferior."
"Maybe I'd believe you if you weren't such a stuck-up bitch!" Jonah snarled, grabbing a fistful of Wren's hair. He held her face close to his. Wren gazed up at him with wide eyes, her body shaking.
"Wren? Are you alright?" Connor murmured.
Wren jerked away from him as he placed a hand on her arm. She snapped the William Blake book shut. "I remembered something."
"What did you remember?" Connor asked, peering down at her, a hand on her shoulder.
"I…" Wren trailed off. "My favorite color is green."
Connor's brow pinched. "Like a forest?"
Wren looked up at him. "Yeah."
"You told me that before," Connor said.
Wren closed her eyes and shook her head. "I remember when I said that. I was with Jonah, and we were talking… He got so angry with me…" Wren's hand drifted to her head. She could almost feel Jonah's fingers wrapped in her hair. "I'd like to go home." Wren shoved the William Blake anthology back onto the shelf and pushed past Connor, her heart still jumping in her chest.
…
Wren and Connor sat around Hank's laptop, searching for a website that allowed them to listen to different genres of music. They expected Hank to return home within the hour, but time permitted them to try and find something they enjoyed. Connor researched for a website and discovered an older one called Every Noise at Once. It organized every genre of music into a scatter plot. Organic genres sat further down the page while mechanical and electronic genres sat at the top. Bouncier tunes occupied the right side of the page while ambient genres dominated the left. Wren and Connor decided to start at the bottom and work their way up.
"Well, we have to start with classical," said Wren. "That's just a given." She clicked on it. A tune of violin and cello strings soothed Wren's ears. She glanced at Connor, gauging his reaction. His LED flashed as he processed the music. Wren clicked on Chinese guzheng. Connor picked classical guitar. Wren tapped her foot to the beat. Connor clicked on New Orleans jazz next. Wren closed her eyes and smiled, sashaying her shoulders to the thick noise. Wren opened her eyes, smiling. Her smile widened into a grin as she noticed Connor bobbing his head to the music.
They scrolled up the page, clicking on various genres. Wren picked "boogie woogie" solely for its name, though it was less humorous than she thought it would be. Connor clicked on dronescape. The ambient noise tugged at Wren's blood.
"I feel like I should be floating in space to this," she muttered, her eyes sliding shut.
"It does evoke feelings of the vast emptiness," agreed Connor.
Wren looked at him. "And Hank calls me cryptic."
A small smile tugged at Connor's lips. They continued going up the page. Connor clicked on "kids' dance party." The song that played was old, but Wren still recognized the Shuffle Slide. She laughed and jumped up from her seat. Connor twisted to watch as Wren followed the instructions of the song.
"Take it back now, y'all," Wren sang, twirling around. One corner of Connor's mouth quirked. He tilted his head.
"Is this song… supposed to teach someone to dance?" he queried.
Wren snorted. "It's a song that even bad dancers can dance to." She returned to her seat to pick the next genre. "Wrestling is a music genre?" She clicked on the hyperlink to play the song.
Connor drew back. "This sounds like heavy metal."
Wren nodded but listened to it anyway. The heavy guitar softened as the singer talk-sang: "You think you're a big man? I'll treat ya like you're a little man!" Wren widened her eyes and looked at Connor before bursting with laughter. Connor merely shook his head with a soft smile and continued clicking around. At last, they reached the top of the page.
Wren leaned back. "So, which genre was your favorite?"
"I liked them all," said Connor. "They all expressed different emotions with different instruments."
"Ah, a virtuoso," Wren teased, leaning forward. The apples of Connor's cheeks popped as he contained a smile. Wren scrolled down the page. She clicked on New Orleans jazz and stood. "I liked the indie music the most, but I like anything I can dance to."
She swayed to the beat and rolled her shoulders. Her hips sashayed to the swinging saxophone, and she wished she wore a skirt. She tapped her feet on the floor, toes to heels and back again. She grinned, swinging her arms and snapping her fingers. "This is meant to be a slow dance with a partner."
Connor's lips twitched. He turned back to the web page and clicked on different genres. Wren changed her dancing style with each genre, though some were easier than others. Connor watched her as if it were a game. He clicked on ballet. Wren took a breather, panting. Then, she extended her arms and flowed to the music. She stood on her toes and twirled. She didn't remember being a dancer, but her body did.
"Well," said Hank. Wren stopped dancing and faced him, her eyes wide. Hank stood in the doorway, holding a bag of groceries. "You definitely earned a degree in dance."
…
"Here's what you missed," said Chris, leaning forward. "We figured out that the last two victims were both super religious and attended the same church. We went and talked to the pastor, but… It's kind of a dead end."
"No surprise there," muttered Tina.
Wren nodded slowly. "Anything interesting there?"
"We picked up a brochure for these… 'Connection Circles.' But other than that, I don't know how this guy is finding these women," Chris said, handing Wren one of said brochures. She glanced down at it.
Frowning, she looked up. "Have you looked into other women who attend that church? It's likely that there are other victims who haven't come forward."
"Yeah, we found something kind of interesting," said Tina. "A woman named Blythe Lister died a week ago. There was a big funeral and everything. And guess what? She was pregnant when she died."
Wren widened her eyes. "You don't think…?"
"That this sick son of a bitch raped her and she killed herself because the baby was his? Yeah, that's exactly what I think," said Tina. Her face clouded. "Fuck church, man."
Wren shivered. She sucked in a sharp breath. "Okay, so… Why didn't the pastor say anything about this?"
"Because he was an asshole?" Tina guessed with a shrug.
Chris frowned. "Maybe he just didn't know. We don't even know if she committed suicide. That's why her parents are coming in to talk to us in about… twenty minutes."
Wren nodded slowly. She looked down at the brochure.
Don't know which Connection Circle is right for you? Fill out our questionnaire and see where the Lord wants to take you!
Wren flipped through the brochure, checking out the different types of Connection Circles. She looked over Connection Circles for elders, for children, for married couples, and teens. A Connection Circle seemed to exist for every occasion, even "Exercising for God!" Wren lifted a brow as she reached the end of the brochure. She stopped at a Connection Circle for single people looking for a possible match.
Find the person God wants you to marry!
Wren's frown deepened as she looked into the leader for that group: Annie Jonz. She looked up at Chris and Tina. "Didn't we hypothesize that this guy views these attacks like a date?"
"Yeah," said Tina, "he knew intimate details about the last two victims. He buys flowers for them and then attacks them. Sicko."
Wren glanced down at the brochure. "And we think he might be involved with this church?"
"All of the victims attend that church, yeah," said Chris.
"I'd change churches if I were them," muttered Tina.
"He might be using these Connection Circles to target his victims," Wren suggested, passing the brochure to Tina. "There's a Connection Circle for singles."
"Matchmaking for the Messiah," Tina read, her lip curling. She looked up, her eyes widening. "Holy shit. He could be attending this Connection Circle!"
"Yeah," said Wren, "and discovers these women are single."
"Yeah, but how does he pick his targets? The victims don't have anything else in common except they attend that church. They don't even look alike," said Chris.
"That's what we have to find out," said Wren. "But I think we should talk to Annie Jonz."
"Definitely," said Tina. Her desk phone rang. She answered it. "Officer Chen." Her face fell. "You're kidding. Blythe Lister's parents are about to be here, though. We can't…" Tina's eyes flicked to Wren's. "Actually, I could send Officer Morgan. Yeah. Okay." Tina hung up the phone, her lips set into a hard line. "There's been another rape."
Wren's heart shriveled. "You want me to talk to her?"
"Yeah," said Tina, drawing in a deep breath. "You're going to go with Lieutenant Anderson and Connor."
Wren's brow puckered. "Why?"
"Because the victim was an android."
Wren's eyes stretched. She clenched her teeth for a moment. "Okay. After you guys talk to Blythe Lister's parents, and I talk to the newest victim, we could meet at the church and speak with Annie Jonz."
"Good idea. See you there."
…
"Now that an android is involved, we're joining the case," said Hank as the elevator ascended.
Wren folded her arms and leaned against the wall. Her stomach rolled at the thought of working a case with Hank and Connor. Part of her liked the idea, but the other part was mortified. She did not want to lose their respect somehow.
"Is there anything you can tell us about the case?" Connor queried, looking at Wren.
She raised her eyebrows. "We think this guy knows the victims. This might not be the same guy, though. So far, he's been assaulting human women. He knows intimate details about them. He buys them their favorite flowers, talks about their favorite movies… The other victims attended the same church. I've never met a religious android before, so this might be a different attacker."
"That's probable," said Connor.
"Sadists don't usually change their victimology," agreed Hank.
"Unless we haven't figured out what connects these victims," pointed out Wren. "It may not be species. We'll see."
"Yep," said Hank. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The three of them stepped off and trekked down the hall to Apartment 1567. They stepped through the holographic crime scene tape and entered the apartment.
Crime scene investigators took pictures and numbered evidence. Wren glanced at Connor and watched him scan the area. He examined the lock on the door, then squatted beside a shattered vase. Water stained the hardwood floor. A bouquet of peonies littered the floor. Wren stepped around the flowers carefully. Hank and another officer drifted off to question the victim in the living room. Wren wandered into the victim's bedroom. An iPod and set of headphones sat on the bed. Wren lifted the headphones to her ear. The victim had been listening to a recorded sermon. So the android was religious. On the bedside table sat a Bible and a brochure, advertising Connection Circles. Wren pursed her lips.
"The victim is an ST300 model."
Wren jumped at Connor's voice and turned. "Jesus, Connor."
His lips twisted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"Very few people can sneak up on me," said Wren, turning away from him to look around the room. She picked up a tablet and unlocked it. She checked the ST300's calendar. An event marked every Friday. Wren tapped it. "What did you find?"
"The door's lock was not broken, which suggests that the attacker did not have to break in. I asked the front desk already. They let him enter the apartment because people from Connection Community Church are listed on the ST300's guest list. I believe he brought the flowers and waited for the ST300 to arrive home."
Wren shivered. "Can you imagine? You should feel safe in your home. I doubt she'll ever feel safe again." She set the tablet down. "She attended the Matchmaking for the Messiah Connection Circle every Friday. That's gotta be how this guy is finding his victims."
Connor's brow furrowed and he nodded. "We should speak with Annie Jonz after this."
Wren nodded. They left the bedroom and entered the living room, where Hank seemed to be having no luck with the ST300.
"I told you," said the android, "he was wearing a mask. I couldn't see him, so I couldn't recognize him."
Connor approached. "Did you recognize his voice?"
The ST300 shook her head. "No."
Wren looked at Hank and Connor before glancing toward the tearful ST300. Wren stepped in front of Hank and Connor. "Can I talk to you guys for a sec?"
The two exchanged a glance but stepped out of the room with Wren. Hank folded his arms. "What's up?"
"Maybe I should talk to her," suggested Wren.
"Why?" Connor queried.
"She's just been raped," Wren said bluntly, as if this explained everything. Hank and Connor seemed nonplussed. Wren sighed. "She's surrounded by men. The two of you are drilling her with question. You're making her uncomfortable."
Hank lifted his hands, palms forward. "Alright, alright. You talk to her."
They reentered the room, but Hank and Connor hung back as Wren approached the ST300. Wren offered the android a soft smile. "My name is Wren. May I sit?"
"Yes, of course," said the ST300, moving over to allow Wren space on the couch.
Wren sank down but angled herself to face the android. "What's your name?"
"Sidney," said the ST300, her voice trembling.
"Sidney, I'm very sorry this happened to you. We're doing everything we can to catch this guy, okay?" Wren said. Sidney nodded, tears welling in her eyes. Wren's heart clenched for the android. "I just have a few questions. It's okay if you don't know the answers to them, okay? Any information you can give helps."
Sidney nodded. "O-okay."
"You attend Connection Community Church, right?" Wren asked.
Sidney dipped her head. "They said they accepted androids. I-I know it's weird, but… This whole deviancy thing… It makes you think. I-I'm scared to die. I don't want there to be nothing. I know a lot of androids believe in rA9… but there aren't any churches yet. I-I'm sorry, I know this doesn't have to do with anything. I told the lieutenant everything that h-happened."
Wren reached for Sidney's hands. "It's okay. Everything helps. It's normal to have these fears and doubts," she assured the android. Wren waited a moment. "Sometimes details leading up to the attack are the most important ones, okay? I know this is difficult, but I'll keep it short. If it gets too difficult, just ask me to stop. Okay?"
"Okay," Sidney said softly. She trembled. Wren squeezed Sidney's hands to reassure her.
"Did the man who did this to you know any personal information about you? Did he say anything that stood out to you?"
"Yeah," Sidney breathed, "he knew that I hadn't dated anyone. He said it was a shame that more people weren't open to android and human relationships. He said that he wanted… He wanted to date me. He asked me if I liked the flowers he got me." Tears dripped down Sidney's cheeks. She sniffled.
Wren pressed her lips together for a moment. "Those flowers… Do they mean anything to you?"
"Peonies," Sidney sobbed, "they're my favorite."
Wren lowered her gaze as her stomach lurched. "Were you involved in any Connection Circles at your church?"
"Yeah, the singles one. I thought it would be a good way to meet people," said Sidney, wiping her eyes.
Wren's heart twisted. "The matchmaking one?"
"Yeah."
Wren frowned, her mind racing. "Did you fill out any questionnaires by chance?"
Sidney's eyes widened. She no longer possessed an LED, but if she did, Wren betted it would be yellow. "Yes, I did. Annie had us fill them out so that she could get to know us better."
"Did this questionnaire ask things about romantic fantasies and things you look for in a partner? Like a dating website?" Wren queried.
Sidney gaped at Wren. "Yes," she whispered. Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God… It asked about my favorite flower… Is that… Is that how he knew?"
Wren held Sidney's hands. "This is not your fault, okay? You survived. We're going to catch this man. You need to go to the hospital and get checked out, okay? Or go to Jericho and talk to North. She helps androids who've been abused. Tell her I sent you. If you ever need someone to talk to, give me a call, okay?" Wren handed Sidney a card with Wren's work number on it.
Sidney stared at it. She lifted her eyes to meet Wren's. "Thank you."
Wren offered the android a smile. "I promise that we'll get this guy."
She gave Sidney's hands a final squeeze and stood. She joined Hank and Connor at the edge of the room, her arms crossed. Hank and Connor stared at her.
"What?" Wren demanded.
Hank shrugged. "Nothin'."
Wren, Hank and Connor left the crime scene and entered the elevator. "We need to talk to Annie Jonz. Someone's getting ahold of these questionnaires and using them to target victims."
"We'll let Tina and Chris know that we're talking to Jonz," said Hank, taking out his phone. Wren nodded and hugged her middle. They were close to catching this bastard. She could taste it.
…
"Miss Jonz," said Wren, facing the young Connection Circle leader, "does anyone read these questionnaires?"
"No one else should be. I'm the only one reading them. I use them to match people up," said Annie Jonz. She smiled pleasantly at Wren.
"Is it possible that anyone else has read them?" queried Hank. "Like Pastor Jackson?"
"Pastor Jackson?" said Annie Jonz. "He doesn't really involve himself in the Connection Circles. As for it's possible if anyone else is reading them, I highly doubt it. I keep the questionnaires locked in my office."
"Is it possible that someone broke in?" demanded Hank.
"No," said Annie, a frown drawing her eyebrows together.
"Do you have security footage that we could examine to make sure?" Connor asked.
"We don't have cameras," said Annie. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lunch date." She turned on her heel and left them in the hall.
Hank folded his arms. "Well, she was a ray of fuckin' sunshine."
Connor's brow furrowed. Wren pursed her lips for a moment. "Let's see if Tina and Chris want to meet for lunch."
…
The five of them crowded around a table, waiting for their food to be delivered. Well, except Connor. He sat at the edge of the table, watching as Hank, Wren, Chris and Tina split an order of fries.
"No surprise that this church isn't being helpful," muttered Tina around a mouthful of fries.
"I doubt that they're protecting the rapist," said Connor.
"Yeah, but they're all too trusting. Something really shady is going on, and they're all too airheaded to give a shit."
Wren dipped a fry into ketchup before plopping it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. "He's gotta be involved with Annie Jonz's Connection Circle. How else would he know the questionnaires exist?"
"Yeah," agreed Chris, "but how is he getting ahold of them if Jonz insists they're locked up in her office?"
"Maybe she isn't as careful as she thinks," said Tina. "She's too trusting."
Wren tilted her head. "Maybe… Maybe a janitor has access. Like a master key."
"That's highly likely," said Connor.
"But this janitor would also need to be part of the Connection Circle," pointed out Chris. "Why wouldn't Jonz mention that?"
"Because we didn't ask her the right questions," said Wren.
"Or," said Tina, "someone could be picking the lock. I think we need to find out what exactly is going on in these Connection Circles. Give him a new target. Then, we catch him in the act. We don't have any other evidence linking him to the victims or crime scenes. He doesn't leave any evidence behind, which means he's smart enough to not get caught. Even if we could link this guy to the Connection Circle and prove he has access to Annie Jonz's office and the questionnaires, it doesn't prove he's the rapist. We need to get inside this group, give him a target and catch him in the act."
"An undercover job?" Wren queried.
"Exactly," said Tina. "A woman who's just moved to Detroit, looking to start a new life, reconnecting with God and making new relationships…" Tina trailed off, eyeing Wren, who widened her eyes.
"Wait, me?"
"C'mon, rookie. You gotta earn your stripes," said Tina, grinning.
"This is really going to suck," Wren muttered, her shoulders slumping.
"Hold up," said Chris, "we need to get ahold of these questionnaires and narrow down how this guy is picking his victims. We need the questionnaires that the last victims filled out, see what they have in common."
"Connor and I can grab the questionnaires," said Hank. "We'll meet you guys at the station. You guys prepare for this undercover business. Make sure Fowler approves."
…
That Friday, Wren entered Connection Community Church to attend Annie Jonz's Connection Circle. Tina and Chris had debriefed Annie to act like she had never met Wren before. Wren sat on one of the utility chairs, her hands on her knees as she peered around at the other attendees. A large man with a beard sat next to her. Wren shifted to give him more elbow room, careful not to jostle the wire she wore so that Hank, Connor, Chris and Tina could listen in and intervene, should they need to. Fowler (with some convincing) had arranged for them to use a pre-furnished house as fake home for Wren to go to later.
"Welcome, everyone," said Annie, grinning at the group. "Tonight, we have a new member, Wrenley Morgan."
Several people smiled and greeted Wren, who offered them a shy smile in return. Her eyes flicked around the room. One of the men here was a rapist. One of them would read her questionnaire and target her.
"Wrenley, if I could get you to fill out this questionnaire, that would be great," said Annie, handing Wren a clipboard and pen.
Wren looked down at the questionnaire and began filling it out, answering honestly at first. Then, she came to the question that Connor had deduced was the deciding factor in how the rapist chose his victims.
Do you want a family?
Wren stared at the question. She swore she could feel someone watching her, but she chose not to look around. She did not want to startle their suspect by reacting to her instincts.
Yes.
If yes, how many children do you want?
Two or three.
Wren filled out the rest of the questionnaire honestly, and then handed it back to Annie. Annie proceeded to preach about how God wants his children to find that right person to share their lives with. Wren looked around the room, scanning for micro expressions. Her shoulders slumped when she came up empty. Her stomach lurched. What if the suspect had not attended this session?
Heat prickled up Wren's neck at the thought that the suspect could have already chosen a target and was assaulting some poor women at that very moment. She shifted and forced herself to appear relaxed.
After the Connection Circle, Wren went to the house to seem normal. The phone rang and Wren answered it.
"Hey, kid," said Hank. "How're you holding up?"
"I'm fine," said Wren. "Just waiting."
"I'm guessing it'll be a few hours before anything happens," said Hank. "Remember, he's waiting for them when they get home, so you need to leave the house at some point."
"Mhm," Wren hummed. "I can get dinner with Tina."
"Good idea," said Hank. "Wait for a good bit, though. We need to give him time. We might need to do this tomorrow, too. If he doesn't show up tonight."
"Okay," said Wren, inhaling sharply.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," Wren replied. "Just don't like the idea of coming home to this guy with my favorite flowers."
"We got your back, kid. He won't touch you," Hank assured her.
Wren relaxed slightly. "Thanks."
"We should go," said Hank. "We've noticed the same car drive past your place twice now."
Wren tensed. "Okay."
"Call Tina, ask her to get dinner. We'll keep an eye on the house. Make sure you're gone for an hour or so."
"Got it," said Wren. She hung up, paced around the house a bit and then called Tina.
Tina came and picked Wren up within ten minutes. They drove to a diner around the block. Wren ordered a side of fries and a shake. She forced herself to eat and drink. Even after eleven years of experience going undercover, it still rattled Wren's insides.
"You seem calm," said Tina.
Wren lifted a brow. "Is that a bad thing?"
Tina shrugged. "I figured you'd be freaking out."
"Mm," said Wren. She plopped a fry into her mouth. "You figured wrong."
"Apparently," said Tina. "I think your hypothesis about the janitor was right. There's a Zachary Pruitt who crosses the checklist. We did a background check on him. He attended the Connection Circle and worked a shift after it. He got into some trouble as a kid for spying on girls changing, but there are no official arrest records."
Wren swallowed and nodded. "Okay."
"He's a pretty smart guy. Went to a good school, got a degree… Worked as a male nurse in the maternity ward for a few years. Lost his job after he went batshit crazy," Tina muttered, leaning forward.
Wren's brow puckered. "What made him go batshit?"
"His wife left him," Tina replied. "He had a total fit at the hospital. Security androids had to drag him out. He's been working custodial jobs ever since."
"You think he's our guy?" Wren queried.
"I think he has the potential to be," said Tina. "Chris is running background checks on the other guys who attended that Connection Circle. Some are pretty shady dudes, but the only one who crosses with the Church is Pruitt."
"What does he look like?" Wren asked.
"Big dude. Like, really big. Cropped hair. Beard."
"I saw him at the Connection Circle," said Wren, her eyes widening. "He sat next to me."
Nausea roiled in Wren's stomach. She stopped eating. Tina and Wren paid for their meal and walked to Tina's car. Tina answered a phone call from Hank, which filtered through the Bluetooth in the car.
"Connor said he saw movement in the house," said Hank. "Wren, he may have entered the house through the back. Be on your guard."
Wren held her breath and nodded stiffly. "Okay."
Tina glanced at her. "I'll drop you off and circle round the back, okay? Hank, you and Connor are ready to go in, right?"
"We're ready," said Hank. "Remember, Wren: He needs to approach you. Don't go looking for him, okay? And we're gonna need a confession in order to lock him up for the other rapes."
"Got it," Wren said. Tina pulled into Wren's driveway. Wren got out of the car, waved goodbye to Tina with a strained smile and walked toward the house. Her heart thumped forcefully, fluttering the pulse in her throat. She swallowed as she withdrew her keys and unlocked the front door. She stepped inside the house and closed the door behind her. She hesitated before locking the door. She couldn't arouse suspicion. Running a hand through her hair, she turned on the lights to the living room. Her keys fell from her hand and clattered to the floor when she saw a large man standing in the living room. He wore a mask, but Wren had no doubt that it was Zachary Pruitt. He held a vase of blue and white hydrangeas. Wren's heart palpitated wildly.
"Wrenley," Zachary greeted.
Wren stood frozen. "W-who are you?"
"Shh, it's okay," said Zachary, placing the vase onto the coffee table. "I'm here to help you."
Wren held up a hand. "Don't take another step toward me."
Zachary paused, his eyes narrowing beneath his mask. "How am I supposed to make love to you, Wrenley?"
Wren nearly gagged. "What?"
"I'm not going to hurt you. I want to start a family with you. How does two or three children sound? I brought your favorite flowers, too. I'll take you dancing. How would you like for me to hold you close all night, listening to your favorite indie music?" Zachary stepped closer.
Wren stumbled back, a cold sweat washing over her. She shook her head. "N-no, not with you."
Zachary's eyes twinkled. Wren swore he was smiling underneath the mask as he stepped closer, his footsteps heavy against the floor. Wren's heart slammed against her chest. Where was Connor? Tina? Hank? Chris? Where the fuck were they? Why hadn't they come to help? A lump formed in Wren's throat and suddenly she wished she hadn't locked the door, arousing suspicion be damned. She was a little too good at playing the part. She had locked herself in with a rapist.
"We're going to have a wonderful family, Wrenley," said Zachary. He cupped Wren's neck with his large hand. Wren tensed and shifted her feet into a fighting stance. The sound of the front door's handle turning caught Zachary's attention. But Wren's backup was locked outside. Wren cursed herself. She curled her hand into a fist and jabbed upward, aiming for Zachary's throat. He coughed and stumbled back, his eyes wide. Wren didn't wait for Zachary to recover himself and hurried for the front door, trying to unlock it. But Zachary grabbed her by the hair. She let out a strangled cry as Zachary wrenched her away from the door and slammed her against the wall. Pain seared through Wren's back and head.
"You stupid bitch! I'm trying to help you!" Zachary bellowed. He threw Wren to the floor. Wren rolled to her back as Zachary towered over her. He moved to stomp on her ribs, but Wren caught his foot and twisted it, knocking Zachary to the floor. As he tried to sit up, Wren swung her leg and kicked him in the face. A sickening crunch brought a smirk to Wren's lips. Zachary roared and cradled his bleeding, broken nose.
Somewhere in the back of the house, a window shattered. Wren glanced in its direction. Zachary punched Wren in the chest, knocking her back to the floor. He scrambled over her, pinning her down with his massive weight. One of his hands closed around her throat while the other worked to unbuckle his pants.
"Detroit Police! You're under arrest!" shouted Hank, entering the room.
"No!" shouted Zachary, squeezing Wren's throat tighter. She rapid-fire punched his gut, loosening his grip on her throat.
Suddenly, Zachary's weight was taken off of Wren completely. She gasped and coughed as air rushed into her lungs. Connor pinned Zachary face-down into the floor. Connor's knee dug into Zachary's back. He forced Zachary's arms behind his back and handcuffed his wrists. Tina helped Wren to her feet.
"You okay?" Tina queried.
Wren nodded, still stunned as Connor and Chris loaded Zachary Pruitt into the back of Chris's cruiser. Hank holstered his gun, panting slightly. "Why the fuck did you lock the goddamn door?"
"You said not to… arouse suspicion," Wren breathed. "I didn't think a single woman would leave her front door unlocked."
"Okay, next time, don't overthink it," said Hank, shaking his head. He patted Wren's shoulder. "Good thing Connor's great with breaking windows with his elbow."
"Good thing you can kick ass," said Tina, her arm over Wren's shoulders.
Wren smiled sheepishly. "He was huge."
"Yeah, I hate to think how much worse off you'd be if you didn't have some fighting capabilities," said Tina.
Hank nodded. "C'mon. Let's get a confession out of this guy."
Wren walked toward Hank's car. Connor promptly ignored her as he slid in the front seat. Wren's heart shrank. She clambered into the backseat. Hank drove them to the station, where Wren, Hank, Connor, Chris and Tina met in the interrogation room, watching Zachary Pruitt nurse his broken nose through the two-way mirror.
"So," drawled Tina, "who wants to get the confession?"
"I will," said Wren. "He's off guard with me anyway."
"Good idea," said Tina.
Wren dipped her head, her heart fluttering at the thought of the others observing her. She entered the interrogation room, case file in hand. Zachary raised his eyebrows at her.
"How's your nose?" Wren asked, taking a seat.
Zachary moved the bloody rag. "I don't think I deserved this. What am I even under arrest for?"
"You really have no idea?" Wren tilted her head. "Well, attempted assault, attacking an officer, and three counts of rape."
"I think you're the one who assaulted me."
"You grabbed me first," said Wren, "and you'd broken into my house."
"That's not really your house," droned Zachary, placing the rag under his nose. "This was all just a ploy because you have no evidence linking me to these women."
Wren narrowed her eyes. "You think you're going to talk your way out of this one?"
"The only evidence you have is circumstantial," taunted Zachary.
"Except for the part where you tried to attack me," said Wren. "You used the same M.O. So that circumstantial evidence? Yeah, not really circumstantial anymore because it led us to you."
The color drained from Zachary's face. "You've got nothing."
Wren folded her hands on the table. "I know you used to work in the maternity ward as a nurse. I know your wife left you. If I had to guess, I'd say it's because she didn't want kids and you did."
"Shut up," muttered Zachary.
"You want to know how I've come to that guess?" Wren continued, opening the case file. She withdrew pictures of the victims and laid them in front of Zachary. She withdrew the questionnaires, too. "All of these women said 'yes' to wanting families. The more kids they wanted, the better. And you told me that we were going to start a family. You raped these women because they wanted families. They wanted children, so you raped them."
"No, no, no!" Zachary shouted. "I didn't hurt them! They wanted it. They wanted families! They want to be pregnant!"
"You did hurt them, Zachary," Wren argued, withdrawing pictures of bruises on the women. "You held them down because they tried to fight back. You hurt these women. They didn't want to be pregnant, not the way you were trying to force them to be. I bet that's why your wife left you."
Zachary shook his head. "No, no, no, no, no, no! I was helping them. They wanted to start families."
"You weren't helping Sidney, the android," said Wren. "She can't get pregnant. There's no reason you should've attacked her. You're sick."
Zachary sneered at Wren, placing the bloody rag onto the table. His nose was horribly crooked. Dark bruises were already forming under his eyes and his face had swollen considerably. Blood smeared across his face and settled into the cracks of his lips. "You think you understand me?"
"I'm trying to," said Wren. "I don't understand why you think raping these women was helping them. I don't understand why you raped Sidney. I don't know why you'd think I'd want you to do this to me."
Zachary's smile faded as he gazed down at the pictures of the victims. His eyes softened. "I didn't want to hurt you. But you fought back."
"So that made it okay?" Wren spat.
Zachary shook his head. "You want a family, and you have no one. No one who loves you. No one to make a baby with you."
Wren gritted her teeth. She forced herself to relax. "I lied on my questionnaire to get you to target me. I don't think I can have kids."
Zachary looked up at her, tears filling his eyes. "You… You poor woman. You'll always be empty."
A chill rippled down Wren's spine. "Why did you do this?"
"I wanted them to have babies, like they're supposed to," said Zachary.
"But what about Sidney?" Wren pressed. "She can't have kids."
Zachary peered down at Sidney's picture. Wren resisted the urge to snatch the picture away, to protect Sidney from Zachary's violating stare. Zachary pressed the rag to his nose again. "I wanted to make love to her. I wanted her to know that not all humans hate androids. I tried to impregnate the others, but… Sidney… She was so pretty. She still wants to be a mother, too. I wanted her to know that… She's so pretty…"
Wren's mouth dried. She glanced toward the two-way mirror. They had their confession. Wren gathered up the pictures and placed them in the case file. She turned to leave, to get the hell out of that room. Her stomach churned.
"You're really pretty, too," said Zachary.
Wren stopped to look at him. Nausea roiled in her stomach. "Excuse me?"
Zachary smiled and leaned forward. "You wish that I could've made love to you, don't you? I bet you just haven't been with a man with a strong enough seed. You can have kids. You just need someone man enough to give them to you, to fill that emptiness in you."
Wren lifted a brow, though she trembled. "No thanks."
Zachary smirked. "You'll always think of me."
Wren stiffened. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. She covered her mouth as bile surged up her throat. She shoved the case file into Connor's hands.
"Wren, you alright?" Chris called. Wren ignored him and ran out of the interrogation room. She sprinted to the bathroom, burst into a stall, doubled over the toilet and vomited.
Jonah held her down, his hand clasped over her mouth. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and into her hair. Jonah grinned.
"You'll always think of me, baby. No matter who you're with. You can leave me, but you won't ever find anyone else like me."
Wren wretched again, but nothing left her stomach. She shook as she stared at the vomit floating and swirling in the toilet. The acrid stench burned her nostrils. The bathroom door opened. Wren flushed the disgusting contents, but remained kneeling on the floor.
"Wren? Are you okay?" Tina asked.
Wren twisted so that she sat on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest. She pressed her back against the stall wall. Tina stood in the doorway, her brow furrowed. Wren nodded.
Tina scowled. "You just vomited and you look like shit."
"Just… a rough case."
"Yeah, I know," said Tina, rubbing her forehead. "Is it true? You don't think you can have kids?"
Wren shrugged, her body still quivering. "I was in a car wreck several years ago. Fucked up my uterus. I wouldn't be surprised if I can't."
"Have you ever gotten checked out?" Tina queried, squatting down.
Wren shook her head. "I've been too busy with my career… I don't really want kids right now."
"So what's bothering you, then?"
"He… He just brought up a lot of bad memories. About my ex."
"Hank's nephew?" Tina frowned.
Wren shook her head. "Before Blaise. I dated this other guy… He was a lot like Zachary Pruitt in many ways."
Tina scoffed. "Men," she muttered. Wren glowered at her friend. Tina sat beside Wren and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry this brought up some bad shit for you. I'm glad you got out of that last relationship. I'm glad you're here and you're my friend. Wanna come with me and Chris to get drinks tonight? You look like you need a shot or six."
Wren managed a laugh. "Yeah. I'd like that."
Tina withdrew a pack of gum from her pocket and handed a piece to Wren. "Your breath smells like vomit."
Wren grimaced and shoved the gum into her mouth. "Thanks."
"Let's go type up a report. We'll have fun tonight." Tina stood.
Wren followed suit. "I'm gonna try and make myself look a little more alive, okay?"
"Okay. See you in a few." Tina left the bathroom.
Wren approached the sink and gripped its edges. She raised her eyes to meet her reflection. Her skin seemed paler than usual. Redness tinged her eyes. She turned on the cold water and rinsed her face several times. She dried off with a paper towel. Finally, she looked a little more alive. She left the bathroom and considered ignoring Hank's blatant stare, but decided to walk over to him. She sat beside his desk.
Hank leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"
Wren nodded. She glanced toward Connor, who avoided her gaze. Her stomach twisted, but she met Hank's gaze. "Yeah. This all just… triggered some memories. I'll explain more later. Tina and Chris want me to get drinks with them after work. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, just keep your phone on ya. When you're done, text me or Connor to come get you," said Hank. He patted Wren's shoulder.
Wren looked at Connor, who ignored her. She sighed and walked over to him. "Are you mad at me?"
Connor looked up at her. "Why would I be mad?"
"You tell me," said Wren, lifting a brow. "You're the one avoiding me."
Connor looked away, his brow furrowing. "I'm not… mad, Wren. I…" He pursed his lips and stood abruptly. He stalked to the breakroom, which was empty. Wren followed him. Connor spread his hands and turned to face her. "I didn't like seeing you in danger, alright? This feeling… I don't know, it washed over me, and… I didn't like it."
Wren's heart warmed, despite Connor's visible distress. "You were worried about me?"
Connor stilled. His eyes widened and his lips parted. He looked as though he were struggling for a moment. Then, his expression fell in defeat. He lowered his gaze and dropped his hands to his sides. "Yes. I was worried about you."
Wren pressed her lips together and stepped toward him. She placed a hand on his arm. "I'm okay, Connor. Thank you, though. It means a lot to me."
Connor lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Are you alright? You left the interrogation room rather quickly."
Wren looked away. "Some of the things he was saying bothered me, that's all. I'm okay now."
"He was wrong," Connor stated firmly. Wren furrowed her brow and looked up at him. "You're not empty. And you're not alone."
"I know," Wren murmured. She wrapped her arms around Connor's middle. He seemed hesitant to return the embrace, but his arms folded around her after a moment. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
…
Wren downed her third shot. She lifted her head, her face flushed. She giggled as she waved at Jimmy to give them another round.
"Okay, okay, okay," slurred Tina, "most embarrassing moment. Mmm… Go."
"Oh, I got this," said Chris, downing his fourth shot. He grimaced and shuddered before grinning. "This was before me and Rochelle got together, 'nd I was tryna impress her, y'know?"
"Oh, Jesus," said Tina.
Chris giggled. "Shut up, shut up, lemme finish. We were walking along this levy with some friends, and we were playin' some music and smokin' some pot."
"Oh, naughty," Wren chuckled.
Chris snorted, tears leaking from his eyes. "Rochelle likes men who can dance, ya know? So I decided to twerk down the hill. I thought it'd be a good idea. I tripped and ended up somersaulting backwards down the fuckin' hill into the dirt."
Wren and Tina doubled over with laughter. Tina wheezed and wiped tears from her eyes. "Well, she married you, so obviously she was impressed."
"Yeah, there's that," Chris chuckled.
"Okay, my turn," said Tina, sitting up straight. Wren downed her fourth shot. She no longer even tasted the burn. Her head spun and she could hardly keep her eyes open. She wondered why Tina and Chris did not seem as affected. "So, I was seeing this movie with my two friends. And it was this really fuckin' sad movie and the theatre was packed. I really had to piss. Like, so bad. So I get up to go pee, but it's the quietest part of the movie. And I fucking trip and fall on the floor. Like, guys, I smacked the floor so hard that everyone heard it. And I heard the wind of people's heads turning to look at me. My thong was hanging out and everything and I, like, army-crawled out of there."
Wren laughed so hard she cried. She couldn't breathe as she doubled over, giggling. She took a moment to calm herself, tears streaming down her face. She looked at her shot glass, which had been refilled. She downed it. "Tina, if I'd seen someone fall like that, I'd've been like, 'Oh, shit, are they okay?' But then if I saw you dead-ass fuckin' crawl out of there, I would've shit myself!" Wren dissolved into giggles again.
Tina laughed. "I didn't have any fucking dignity! I wasn't slow about it! I scuttled out of there like a goddamn spider!"
Wren laughed harder and squeezed her eyes shut. Suddenly, she was no longer in her seat. She felt herself fall to the floor in slow-motion, giggling the whole way down.
"Oh, fuck! Wren, you good?" Chris demanded, looking down at her.
Tina sniggered down at Wren. "Man, get your shit together!"
"She should go home," said Jimmy.
"You can't hold any alcohol, Wren!" Tina scolded, helping Wren sit back on her stool. Wren giggled breathlessly.
"I climbed out the bathroom window and tried to run away the other night! Connor tackled me in the front yard!" Wren laughed.
"Why the fuck did you climb through the bathroom window?" Tina laughed.
Chris took Wren's phone and dialed Connor's number. "Hey, you wanna come get her? She's gone, man. Like, so drunk. Twenty minutes? Yeah, we got her."
Wren snickered. "I don't even remember!"
"Jesus, Wren, you are so drunk," Tina snorted, holding Wren steady.
"Here's some water," said Jimmy, placing a glass on the bar.
Tina helped Wren take a sip, but Wren was too giggly to drink all of it. Chris left after a while. Tina called a cab that would arrive around the same time Connor would. Wren danced around the mostly empty bar, snickering. Tina laughed at her.
When Connor entered the bar, Wren brightened upon seeing him. She hurried toward him and threw her arms around his neck. "Connor! It's my favorite android!"
Connor patted her back. "Hello, Wren. Are you ready to go home?"
"Yes," Wren slurred. She unlinked her arms from Connor's neck and returned to the bar. She hugged Tina goodbye, who stepped out of the bar to get in her cab. Wren grabbed her phone and wallet. She shuffled past a man sitting at one of the tall tables across from the bar. In the narrow space, Wren brushed against him. The man smacked her on the rear.
"Why don't you come make my night, sweetheart?" he slurred.
Wren looked over him, swaying on the spot. She narrowed her eyes at his greasy hair. "With you? Ew, no." She turned away, but the sleazy man grabbed her by the wrists.
Connor stepped forward. "She said no. Take your hands off of her."
The man squinted at Connor. "Who the fuck are you? Fuckin' android. Why don't you get your metal ass outta here and fuck some Traci? Little Miss Red here is gonna fuck my brains out."
"Nooope, I'm not," said Wren, "you're gross."
"Gross? Come on baby, don't be like that," purred the man. Wren grimaced as his hot breath washed over her face.
"Sir, if you don't let her go, I will have to neutralize you," said Connor calmly.
"Neutra-what? Thought I told you to fuck off? What, you don't like me feelin' on your friend? Wish you could, but she doesn't wanna fuck you?" The man grinned and groped Wren's breasts.
"Hey!" Wren yelled. She slapped the man's face, but in her drunken state, it was more like a pat on the cheek. Wren tired to think around the alcohol fuzzing her brain. "I'd much rather fuck him than you!"
The man's grip tightened on Wren's wrist. Connor reached forward and broke the man's grasp easily. With a hand on Wren's back, Connor led her toward the exit.
"Hey!" called the sleaze. "Don't take my girl!"
"Not your girl, dickturd!" Wren yelled back.
Connor and Wren stepped out into the night. Connor walked her toward the parking lot. Wren stumbled over the uneven concrete, but Connor caught her. "Are you alright?"
Wren nodded. "Mhm…"
Connor jerked away from Wren rather suddenly. She stumbled back, her eyes widening. The sleaze from the bar had grabbed Connor and swung a drunken punch at the android. Connor dodged it without much effort. Connor sidestepped, grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it.
"Sir, I suggest you stop before you hurt yourself," Connor advised.
"Fuck you, you plastic fuck. I'll tear ya to pieces and set them on fire in a dumpster where you belong, you stupid machine," spat the sleaze.
Wren reacted before she thought. She punched the man in the side of the face, breaking a second nose that day. "Don't talk about him like that, asshole!"
Connor released his grip on the man and walked over to Wren. He glanced down at her hand. "You've knocked a few of your fingers out of socket."
"Easy fix," Wren muttered. Connor placed a hand on her back once more and guided her to Hank's car. He helped her into the passenger seat before circling around to the driver's side. Wren gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. She watched as lights rolled over Connor's face as they drove home. Wren felt as if she were floating. She watched another soft glow from the streetlamps outside the car illuminate Connor's face. His freckles were cute.
Connor's brow pinched and he looked at Wren. "What?"
Wren froze, her eyes widening a fraction. Shit. Had she said that aloud? "What?"
Connor tilted his head. "I thought you just said…"
"I didn't say anything," Wren said quickly. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. She prayed he bought it. Connor frowned but returned his focus to the road. By the time they reached the house, Wren was mostly asleep. Connor helped her out of the car, supporting most of her weight. Wren tried to open her eyes, but they felt so heavy. She was vaguely aware of Connor sitting her down on the couch.
He brought her aspirin and water. "Don't take the medicine until you've had a chance to sober up," Connor advised, "but you should hydrate."
Wren nodded and took a deep sip from the water. Connor took the glass and set it down. She managed to open her eyes as Connor crouched in front of her. "What're you doing?"
"Looking at your hand," Connor replied. Wren glanced down at her left hand, the one she'd used to punch the drunken sleaze. Her synthetic skin had dissolved. At the joints, her fingers curled at odd angles.
Wren laughed. "Yeah… Was too drunk to use the right form… I didn't even make a fist… I just jammed my hand at him. Good thing my limbs don't feel pain."
Wren started to laugh. Connor smiled slightly and shushed her. "You'll wake Hank."
"Oh, shit, sorry," Wren covered her mouth with her free hand. She sputtered out a giggle. "I haven't had alcohol in years… And I don't have human arms and legs anymore so I'm a lightweight now… But don't tell anybody that I can't hold my alcohol."
Connor's lips twisted with a small smile. Neither of them seemed to notice that Connor's hands were still folded over Wren's hand. "I won't tell anyone. You should rest, Wren."
Wren nodded. She pulled her hand free from Connor's gentle grasp and laid down. "Yeah, 'm gonna feel like shit tomorrow… Hey Connor?"
"Yes?" Connor said as he straightened from his crouch.
"Thanks for getting that guy off me…"
Connor softened. "Of course."
"Wish he had come at me sober… I'd have beat his ass…" Wren's eyes fluttered shut, and she missed the smile on Connor's lips as he gazed at her.
...….
Ahhh, this was such a long chapter of ups and downs. Grad school is crushing me, but it's fine, everything's fine :))))))
Anyway, your reviews seriously feed my dead soul, lmao. So thank y'all. I hope you guys enjoyed this extra AF chapter!