Page 116 of Pulse Zero
Even more chances to fuck up.
But then Harrison’s smile deepens, his eyes bright with something bordering on dangerous excitement. “Not break,” he corrects. “Disrupt.”
That helps ease some of the tension in my shoulders. Disrupt sounds promising. It sounds a lot better thanbreakand way less concerning.
There area lotof things I’d love to fucking disrupt.
I close my hand into a fist, and the sparks collapse inward, vanishing like they were never there. But I can still feel it, sitting under my skin. Waiting.
I look between Lane and Harrison, adrenaline starting to creep in under the shock, under the lingering cold, under the very real memory of my heart stopping. It was racing before, but this is different. This isanticipation.
“More good news?” Another smirk stretches my mouth, not weak this time. “I think I just leveled the playing field.”
By the time Iget home, I feel like I’ve been taken apart and put back together at least six different ways. Which, to be fair, isn’t entirely inaccurate.
I let the door shut behind me and lean back againstit, closing my eyes as the quiet of my apartment settles in around me. Real quiet. No buzzing of machines, no constant monitoring. Just my quiet home.
Then Felix is on me immediately. He weaves around my legs like I abandoned him even longer than I did last time. That wasn’t my fault, but he still doesn’t believe me.
“Miss me?”
He meows, probably hungry since I’ve been gone, what, twenty-four hours? Thirty? Time got a little weird in the wholedying and coming back to lifeportion of my schedule.
I push off the door and step further inside, rolling my shoulders as I move. Everything still aches, a dull reminder that my body did, in fact, shut down and reboot like a malfunctioning computer.
Lane and Harrison made sure I didn’t forget either. There were so many fucking tests,again. MRI. CT. Blood work. Reflex checks. Cognitive assessments. Wash, rinse, repeat. Again and again and again.
At one point, I’m pretty sure Harrison just stared at my brain scans like he was trying to solve a puzzle that personally offended him.
They wouldn’t let me leave.
“Observation period,” Harrison said.
“Because you literally died,” Lane added.
Fair.
But still…
I made it through the night. No spontaneous re-death. No system failures. Just…this. Whateverthisis.
After feeding Felix, I move through the hall to the bathroom so I can shower. I brush my fingers along the wall, and the wiring behind it blooms in my head like a constellation. Data pulses faintly through the building’s network. My neighbor is streaming something that would probably embarrass them ifthey knew anyone could see it. Someone on the third floor is Googling symptoms they absolutely do not have.
I freeze in the middle of the hallway.
It’s not the ability. I’ve been quickly growing used to that, a littletooquickly. Because that’s what’s stopped me in my tracks. It’s theeaseof it. It’s not overwhelming anymore. It’s not crashing over me like a wave. It’s just there, involuntary. Like breathing. Or a heartbeat.
“Cool,” I mutter as I step into the bathroom and start to strip. “Love being a walking Wi-Fi router.”
I get a shower, glad it wasn’t a toaster in the tub kind of situation, and dress in clean clothes—comfortable ones because, duh, I justdied. Then I head back into the living room, and my gaze catches on the camera tucked into the bookshelf.
Do I want him to know? Or should I let it be a surprise?
I’m honestly not the most patient person. I live for instant gratification. That’s probably one reason Reese and I would never work even if our circumstances were different, not with the way he’s edged me to oblivion during both of our sexual encounters.
My mind snags on that and gets stuck, memories of both those times coming back to me as I sit in the chair at my desk. Seven years ago in that small shower when he wouldn’t let me come for what felt like hours. Just the other day in that basement when it was his shadows doing the exact same thing.
I peer down and see my dick tenting my gray sweats.
