Twisted Metal Heart - Eve Langlais Page 0,6
I let you in at all.” The plain truth. Albert would probably toss him outside in less time than it took her to finish the statement.
“Lucky.” He snorted. “Okay, if you say so. You’re obviously not the one who was getting chewed up. Feels like it wasn’t as bad as I thought. How many stitches did it take?” His brow furrowed as he patted himself with one hand. “How come I can’t feel my left arm?” He glanced down at the sheet. Pulled it down.
She tucked her hands behind her back. “Your injuries were rather extensive.”
He stared at the empty side of his body then turned an incredulous gaze on her. “You couldn’t save me before they ate my fucking arm?”
“They only ate parts of it.” Which were words she realized in retrospect were cringe worthy. “The remainder of your limb didn’t have enough left to salvage.”
“You cut off my arm.” He glanced at the nub then her again. “Who the fuck said you could decide that?”
“Medically speaking—”
“Fuck your medically speaking. It was my arm.”
“You were unconscious. Decisions had to be made.”
“For how long?”
“More than four days.” Most of was by induced coma. She didn’t mention that.
“Four days.” He closed his eyes.
It was probably time to mention it before he noticed. “We also took your right leg.”
He went still. “Any other body parts gone you’d like to mention?”
“I did trim your hair.”
“My hair?” That brought a low, nasty chuckle. “How kind of you. Wouldn’t want the cripple to look unkempt. You should have let me die.”
“Why would you want to die?” she asked. Didn’t everyone want to live?
“For starters, I’m now useless. I was left-handed you know.”
“I’m sorry.”
He opened one eye and squinted at her. “Sorry doesn’t bring it back.”
“If you train, your right hand will replace it.”
“Until I need two hands to do something.”
“I can replace the arm.”
“With what? A hunk of wood with a hook on the end?” he drawled sarcastically.
“I can do better than that. You’ll be outfitted with a bionic arm and leg.”
“A what?”
She frowned. How to explain to someone who’d never seen one? Bionics weren’t widely available given the intricacies involved in making them. “Think of it as a fabricated replacement for what you lost. Like a machine part, but finely tuned to work with the human body.”
“And, of course, you have a so-called bionic arm and leg just hanging around.” He rolled his eyes. “Do I look stupid? No one makes robot body parts. You’d need access to a tri-dimensional factory printer to even try. And the Enclave isn’t benevolent enough to allow it. Everyone knows the Enclave gets rid of those with imperfections.”
“The Enclave has nothing to do with it. We fabricate the parts ourselves.”
That snapped his jaw shut. “Parts?”
“There is a bionic arm and leg almost ready for you. The work began shortly after your arrival.”
“Ready in four days?” he scoffed. “I can’t wait to see this.” The sarcasm dripped.
“More like months, actually. We had one already partially built, so it wasn’t hard to modify it to suit your body instead.”
“Made of what? Metal? Plastic?”
“More metallic than anything else but not the kind you usually see.” She hedged. No need to mention the ore she found worked best came from the remnants of the meteor storm that caused the Earth’s Fall.
“Metal can’t replace flesh.” The words were flat and low.
“Depends on the metal,” she muttered.
“What if I don’t want a heavy metal arm or leg?”
“You’re difficult,” she replied instead.
“I have a right to be. You made important decisions for me.”
“To save your life. Which, by the way, you’re welcome,” she snapped. He could show a little gratitude. Bad enough she was getting lectured by Alfred; she didn’t need this jerk giving her a hard time too.
“And why did you save my life? I should have died.” He turned away from her.
“Are you going to keep whining and acting petulant, or handle the situation in a mature manner? Because if you’re going to be petulant, then maybe I will rid myself of you.”
He glared at her. “I don’t like you.”
“You don’t have to like me. And if it helps, I don’t like you either.” The next time she put a blade near his neck it wouldn’t be to shave him.
She snagged his sheet and went to pull it free.
He grabbed it with his remaining hand. “What are you doing?”
“You’re awake, which means you don’t need the catheter or feeding tubes anymore.”
His mouth rounded. “A catheter…You…” He glanced down at the sheet then yanked