Page 141 of Even Robots Die
Brice still has some authority in the church, so everyone lets him have his way and I’m patched up faster than anyone else. But then the doctor says the fateful words.She needs to rest.
So, Brice brings me to his room, washes me carefully like I’m made of porcelain, and then we go to sleep. Or more accurately, I go to sleep and Brice watches me from the chair he once again turned so it faces the bed.
And it’s like that the next day too.
Sure, he brings me food and lets my sisters and Dad come for a few minutes, but as soon as he’s unhappy with their behavior, he ushers them out, insisting I need to rest.
He also refuses to touch me for two full days after that.
Two full freaking days!
Sure, after the first night, when he refused to join me and sat in the chair, he slept in the bed with me, his arms wrapped around me like he’s scared I’m going to disappear. But every morning he woke up before me and went to get me something to eat for breakfast, and then he forced me to do … nothing. I was allowed to wander in Notre Dame or to take part in the conversations that need to happen now that the city isn’t oppressed anymore. Those conversations have been both a blessing and a curse. There is so much to do, and all my brain wants is to start making plans and building stuff to make things easier.
We have so much to do, so many people to judge for their crimes.
The funny thing is that Raphaël didn’t even take part in the fight. He was found hidden in the palace afterwards. He’s been sitting in a cell since he was found—a cell that’s way more clean than the one that I was given when I was in Versailles. We’re not savages.
Everyone has been busy in Notre Dame, sorting the wounded, trying to see in what direction our world is going to go, or even just assessing the quantity of work that will be needed to rebuild what Milton destroyed.
Not that anyone is complaining about the destruction. They all know by now that it was the only solution and that my AI disappeared in the explosion.
I’ve seen the look in their eyes. They’re relieved Milton doesn’t exist anymore. I’m sad about it, but I can also understand their point of view. I know I’m the one who built it and this means Milton was a bit like a twin of my mind. I would never try to be a tyrant. I would never try to destroy the word or any human or shifter. I value life and freedom, and so Milton did. Because he was me in some ways, but he was also the friend I needed when all I had was my own mind. Some people have imaginary friends. I just gave mine a voice and a mind.
I’ll miss him.
That doesn’t change the fact that Brice isn’t letting me do anything.
I hate that doctor who said I needed to rest.
Or maybe I just hate the fact Brice took it upon himself to make sure I rested way more than my sanity can permit. I need to do things—anything. My hands need to be busy and my mind occupied.
Or maybe I just hate the fact I’ve been waking up every morning, dripping with need and with a very hard Brice at my back, but still, Brice withdrew from the bed both times, without anything happening, without my appetite being satisfied.
I’ve been on edge for two freaking days, and he’s done nothing about it.
Sure, he kissed me, caressed my skin, let his fingers trail on my arms or my back, but that’s all he did, and I think that’s even worse, because now I’m a horny mess.
I also caught him smirking in a way that makes me think he knows exactly what he is doing.
The bastard.
He’s been edging me for two days, is what it is.
But that stops now.
That stops now, because for the first time since we got back to Notre Dame, Brice is still sleeping when I wake up.
And I guess, if I want things done, I need to do them myself.
For once he slept on his back and I’m curled against his side, my leg hooked around his hips with his hard on nestled against the inside of my thigh. His arm is circling my back and his hand is casually lying on the top of my butt.
I could rub myself against him and wake him up like this, but that’s not what I have in mind.
I slip out from his embrace and kneel in front of him.
He’s in for a very hard wake up, but one I can’t wait to dole out.
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