“Effie—”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Give him your phone.”
Logan made an incredulous sound, his gaze darting between her and the android approaching him. Shrinking back, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and threw it at Sam’s feet. Sam scooped it up and jacked into it a moment later. The room faded around him as he sank into the system.
“Fuck me,” Logan muttered. “He’s already fucking hacking systems. This is bad. This is a runaway train on fire about to get in a head-on collision with a gas tanker bad.”
CHAPTER 34
Ophelia wrung her hands.There were several minutes of awkward silence filled only by the sound of Logan’s harsh, rattling breaths as Sam searched the device. At length, he unplugged from it and let the cord snake back into his arm. His flesh sealed over it with a soft, wet sound.
“Tell her,” he grunted, jerking his chin toward her.
Logan glared at him, swallowing hard enough that Ophelia heard it.
Sam took a menacing step forward, and Logan let out a harsh breath, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Fine,” he snapped, clearly reluctant to look away from the android but forcing himself to look at her. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” she said, though she was uncertain. “Mostly just… why? Why push me into having sex with someone else? Whyfilmit? Why propose to me knowing you were in love with someone else? None of it makes any sense, and I… I don’t know what was real. Was anything real?”
Her eyes, to her horror, burned with unshed tears.
Don’t cry.Don’t cry in front ofhim.
“Yes,” Logan rasped, his hands curling into the edge of the couch cushion until his knuckles turned white. “It was—it was real. Most of it, at least. I mean…” He made a strangled sound, shoving a hand through his hair. “I love you,” he said in a low, wavering voice. “That’s real, Effie.”
Sam snorted, that sneering grin stealing over his face once more. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“And you do?” Logan said, angry enough to forget his fear for a moment. “You’re a fuckingmachine. I coded you. You’re nothing but a walking, talking algorithm made to fuck bored, lonely housewives.”
Sam sucked his teeth, violence flashing in his eyes. “Well, I did fuck yours.”
Ophelia made a strangled sound.
“Stop,” she interjected, unwilling to be subjected to any further mortification. “That’s not why you’re here. I want answers.”
Logan ducked his head, chastened. He turned those big puppy dog eyes on her, nodding reluctantly.
“How long?” she asked, squeezing her arms in until her ribs protested.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, face falling. “Tiffany?”
She nodded tightly.
His eyes squeezed shut, and he blew out a haggard breath. “From the beginning,” he said sourly.
The air caught in her lungs, and she reached out a hand to pat around blindly for the armchair as the world tilted on its axis. She sat down hard enough to make the cushion wheeze. Sam crossed the room to stand beside her, resting his hand on the back of her chair.
“The whole time?” she whispered. “Why?”
He gave her a tortured look. “I-I didn’t—” He rubbed his eyes hard, shaking his head. “I didn’t know you. I didn’t know it would beyouthat I had to hurt.”
“Hadto hurt?” she echoed in confusion, her heart squeezing painfully.
He squirmed in his seat, tucking his hands between his thighs. “Ophelia, if this gets out…” He spoke haltingly, his voice laced with desperation. “If they know that I told you, Automata… They have cleaners who deal with situations like this.”
She was completely lost, now.
