Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
In fact, I'm shaking my head at Victor.
"It's fine," Sera tells me, then turns to Victor. "I haven't spoken to my parents in two years. They've been addicts since I can remember. The last time I saw them, I told them that when they got sober, they could reach out. And yeah, that was two years ago, so…" She shrugs. "Since we're sharing… sometimes I think about contacting them. But if they can't make the effort, and they never have, why should I? That's why I want a family."
My heart races, emotion surging through me when she says this.
"You want to do better," Victor says.
"Exactly," Sera replies, her eyes lighting up.
Victor gives me a knowing look. "You've often said the same."
"I would do everything in my power to be the man my children deserve," I say. "I'd be better than my parents were."
"We're not very good at small talk, are we?" Sera grins.
"That's my fault," Victor says, holding his hand up in surrender. "Let me think… um, the weather is pleasant today, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes," Sera says, with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Very… West Coast."
They both erupt into laughter. Warmth spreads through me. My father figure and my woman bonding so quickly surely means something. Soon, the waiter brings our food and drinks.
"How long do you plan on staying in this small-talk-worthy climate, Sera?" Victor asks after savoring a bite of his taco.
"I'm not sure."
"As long as she wants," I say, gazing at her meaningfully, hopefully.
"I suppose it depends on some things back home," she replies. "But I'm happy to be here. I'm happy to be with Luke. Heck, we said long distance wouldn't work… how long did we tolerate it? Not even a week?"
"Tolerate is an understatement," I nearly grumble.
We continue with our breakfast, then Sera excuses herself to use the bathroom. I watch her go, appreciating the sway of her hips, cherishing the simple fact that she's here, in person, and I don't have to anxiously wait for a text.
"You care about her," Victor says.
"More than would make sense to most people. I cared about her the second I saw her. Before the coffee spill on her laptop… I was watching her, admiring her concentration, thinking about how beautiful she is. I didn't know at the time she was beautiful inside and out… Go on, tell me I need to slow down."
Victor shakes his head. "I said all that stuff before I saw you two together. I couldn't say that now. It would be laughable. You're making me reflect on the relationships I ruined when I was younger… No, Luke, I think you ought to seize this chance."
"Do I seem that different?" I ask, surprised by his change in perspective.
Victor smiles. "You're like a different man."
"She brings it—"
"Luke!"
When I hear her scream, I leap to my feet. Rushing toward the bathroom, my blood roars in my ears. Panic tears through me as I try not to imagine every horrific possibility my mind conjures.
When I crash into the hallway, I notice the fire door swinging shut as somebody darts through it. A man wearing a hoodie… is it Damien? I want to chase after him, but he was alone—what if he's hurt Sera, left her in there to… I can't even finish the thought.
I burst into the ladies' room to find Sera standing with a chunk of greasy black hair in her hand. Tears streaming down her cheeks.
"What happened?" I say, cradling her face.
"It was him," she whispers, taking long, deliberate breaths. She seems to be fighting the urge to hyperventilate. "He rushed in here and said I had to go with him. Thankfully, I saw him coming and fought back." She drops his hair. "He ran when I screamed your name."
"That sick fuck," I growl. "How did he even know we were here?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know. Why is he doing this? Why won't he leave us alone?"
I pull her into my embrace. "He's not well. If his behavior wasn't so disturbing, I'd feel sorry for him. He's deluded. He thinks he's done things he hasn't, thinks he's owed things he's not. We need to call the cops. Then I'm taking you home."
"No," she says. "I don't want that. I want to go into the office with you. I want to work. I don't want to think." She squeezes me, digging her fingernails in. "Let me do something."
"Okay, Sparkplug," I say softly. "But first, the cops."
"He looked exhausted, like he'd been driving without sleep, racing across the country to make our lives hell."
"If I get my hands on him, I'll make hell look like a walk in the park."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sera
In my hideaway office, I immerse myself in my computer, the code, the algorithm, the clarity of problem and solution. The sabotage stems from human-AI speech patterns. Someone has regressed the AI's ability to understand people to a much earlier model. Its use of advanced predictive algorithms to respond naturally without consciously reading social cues is a key factor in this new model Luke is developing.