Page 41 of Pride
The food was good. Why should it go to waste just because of who Alice was? Mary tried to hide her small smile as she pushed past him, but he’d caught it.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he called after her. “I still haven’t—”
His mother ignored him and went to put the casserole in his fridge. Flint held up the robotic arm they’d all been working on for the past few days. They’d added a few of Parker’s own suggestions to harmonize with his new powers. The new prototype had passed all the initial tests. It was a hack job, and he would have preferred to dismantle the Syndicate tech and start from scratch, but they didn’t have time. All they needed to do now was attach it to his arm and train his brain to send the right signals to make it respond.
Piece of cake.
Grace smiled gently and followed Flint inside, her medical bag dangling from her hand.
“You ready to get to work?” Flint asked Parker, scrubbing his beard. Dark circles smudged under his eyes. They were the same on Mary. His parents were feeling the pinch of worry where it came to Daisy, and most definitely the compounded guilt of letting her go all those years ago. They’d only isolated one location for Daisy—in Norway—and Tony and Evan had immediately taken Parker’s jet to investigate. They were due any moment to call in for a status report.
Sloan waggled her brows at his stump. “Bras, I’m so excited about this.”
“How fortunate that my pain will be your entertainment for the night.” A grim yet sarcastic expression forced itself upon his face. She poked out her tongue, and he smiled. She was too easy to rile.
“Where can we set up?” Flint asked, scanning the messy penthouse.
Parker had tried to tidy it, but was starting to see the wisdom in Liza’s previous comment about letting in the housekeeper. Boxes and parts were everywhere, from the dining table, to the leather couches, to the baby grand piano. Perhaps they should have stayed downstairs in the basement workshop, but he wanted privacy and a familiar environment for this next part. He might have to remain in lockdown for a few days until he was functioning at full speed and could pass his bionic arm off as human. Perhaps tidying would be a good calibration exercise for the new arm. Perhaps he’d find his elusive quiet again.
“I suppose we set up at the table,” he said. “I’ll clear AIMI’s parts.”
“I’ll do it,” Sloan said. “You two get started. I want to be home soon—Max has a Dota gaming tournament lined up for the both of us.”
Parker stopped listening, bored already. As long as she gave her full attention to this project, she was allowed to stay. When enough space was cleared, Flint unpacked the arm from an aluminum suitcase. The garish gold had been ground off, the new surface coated with aggregated diamond nanorods, making it harder than steel. He could punch through a wall with no effort or damage. A skeletal sleeve had been attached to his humerus bone two nights earlier. He’d paid the surgical specialist an obscene amount of money for his continued silence and the promise of allowing him in on future tech releases and studies involving the arm.
Grace pointed at his stump, now with wires and a metal bone protruding from it.
“Do you mind if I check on the healing?” she asked.
“Go ahead.”
“You might want to sit.” She pulled the piano bench over and bade him down. When he was sitting, she leaned in to take a closer look at the new skin forming around the metal bone. “Looks good,” she murmured after removing the dressing. “How’s it feel?”
“Tight. Sore. Itchy.”
“But not sore like your bone doesn’t have enough room to regenerate?”
“I’m not sure how that would feel.”
“I suppose it’s too early to tell, but this will be the biggest worry for you. We will need to make monthly adjustments to the prosthesis. Theoretically that nodule at the top of the titanium will move as you grow, but only half an inch. The electrodes, I’ve been told, should grow with you too. After that growth plate is exhausted, then you’ll have to remove the entire arm, make more adjustments and put it back on. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Parker, you know I’m nervous about this. It’s not my field of specialty.”
“I’ll keep an eye on it.”
Grace decided he no longer needed dressing, and disinfected the area before handing over the reins to Flint. “All yours.” She gave them all a brief smile and then moved some boxes off the leather couch to sit down. “I hope you don’t mind me staying,” she said, a nervous flicker in her eyes. “I want to be here when Evan checks in.”
“Of course,” Parker said. “Mary’s brought food, help yourself.”
Grace took out her cell and typed in a text. “I also told Bailey I’d call her the moment we hear from them. She’s chaperoning Lilo on a press gig.”
And Griffin would be shadowing them. Parker had told him not to worry. The Syndicate had moved on from harvesting stem cells. They’d gone radio silent and Parker believed it meant they were about to make their move.
“Right,” Parker said. “Time to get this on.” He shared a look with his mother and Sloan, and then nodded. Everyone was anxious. More potential sites from AIMI’s incomplete tracking data were available to explore. Too many around the world for them to visit safely, but with the Sinners’ help, it was possible. He just had to take the leap and ask them.
Each time he thought about working with them, his stomach pulled into a knot tighter than the ones on his wall.
