Page 22 of A Mate For Matrix (Cyborg Protection Unit #1)

Chapter Fifteen

M atrix sat rigidly in the passenger seat of the battered van, his fingers idly brushing powdered sugar from his shirt as his mind churned.

He watched her go, his heart aching with the strange, growing sensation that no battle or upgrade had ever prepared him for: the terrifying, thrilling truth that she was his home.

She had touched his cheek.

She had looked him in the eye, kissed him softly, and called him beautiful.

Not strong. Not useful. Not efficient. Not… salvageable.

Beautiful.

He stared out the windshield, barely seeing the fluttering red-and-white flags above the entrance to Mayo’s Market the door whooshed open as the sensor caught him. The cool air washed over him, but it didn’t dull the burn inside.

He would not allow this man to get close to Jana again.

Not while he lived.

Not while he still drew breath.

Jana crouched in the hygiene aisle, one knee nearly brushing the cracked linoleum as she scanned the toothpaste shelf.

She was comparing options—mint or whitening, cavity protection or baking soda—when she finally sighed and grabbed three of each.

Might as well stock up. It wasn’t like they’d have Colgate on the other side of the galaxy, but they had to have something because Matrix had gorgeous teeth.

She shifted to stand?—

A hand slid across her backside.

She froze, every muscle locking.

A sick, oily presence coiled behind her—familiar, loathed, and wrong.

Straightening with a start, she turned to find Herman standing far too close, an arrogant sneer pulling at his puckered lips.

“Where’s your friends, Jana? Or have they left?” he asked, his voice low and full of the same smug superiority he always wore when he came to collect the rent.

Jana pursed her lips, her disbelief turning to rage.

Her fists tightened around the toothpaste boxes, crushing one side.

It would be so satisfying to thwack him upside the head with them that she was surprised that she didn’t.

Instead, she dropped them into her handheld green basket and stepped to the side as far as she could without touching him.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I always knew you were a dirty old man, but at least you used to hide it while your wife was alive,” she snapped, her voice low and dangerous. “Stay away from me.”

She tried to breathe through her fury. She wasn’t going to lose it here—not in the middle of Mayo’s Market, with sleepy jazz playing on the store speakers and someone’s baby fussing two aisles over.

That was her mistake—trying to ignore him.

His hand shot out and gripped her upper arm—tight. Hard enough to hurt. Bruises were already blooming beneath his grip.

Great! A reminder of what an asshole he is on my way out of the star system!

“Where are they?” he snarled.

“I said, let go of me,” Jana said, her voice quiet and icy. “Now.”

She winced when his fingers dug in deeper, and his eyes gleamed with something dark and greedy.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere until you tell me who that man back at your house was, where he really came from, and where he is now,” he hissed.

“And the dog. What the hell was that thing? Don’t lie to me—I heard him talk.

I saw its eyes light up like a metal monster. What are you harborin’, Jana?”

Her mind raced.

If he was recording this….

Jana’s expression shifted, her lips curving into a sugar-sweet smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Herman. I think you are imagining things.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb. That dog spoke. It told me to run. What kind of freak show are you wrapped up in?”

She leaned in, her smile razor-sharp. “You really should seek professional help, Herman. Maybe someone should call your kids—oh, right. None of them care if you live or die. Maybe you should take a dose of the same poison you fed that momma cat and do us all a favor.”

His eyes bulged. His mouth opened for a retort?—

For a second, Jana was afraid he was about to keel over. His face drained of color, turning an ashen gray-white. She winced when he released her as if burned.

She blinked, confused, until she turned and saw why. Her lips curved into a bright, relieved smile.

Matrix.

He stood at the end of the aisle like something carved from storm clouds and steel.

Still. Silent. Unblinking.

The store’s fluorescent lights gleamed off the lenses of his sunglasses, but the fury radiating from his body was unmistakable. He hadn’t raised a hand, but his presence alone was a threat. A promise.

You touched what is mine.

Jana swallowed and walked—on unsteady legs—toward him.

Matrix didn’t move, didn’t speak, but the moment she reached his side, he slid one arm around her waist, anchoring her. His body was a furnace, his touch a claim.

Behind them, Herman stumbled backward like he’d seen death itself.

His heel caught the edge of a wire basket filled with travel-sized toiletries. Shampoo, floss, razors—everything flew.

He windmilled and shouted, then crashed to the floor, sending toothpaste tubes bouncing across the tiles and knocking over a freestanding rack of sunscreen.

A nearby clerk rounded the corner and gasped.

“Sir? Are you?—”

Herman let out a low whimper, then a high-pitched scream.

“They’re real!” he shouted, scrambling backward, eyes locked on Matrix. “He’s one of them! I tell you, they’re here! They’ve come for me!”

Matrix finally smiled. Not kindly.

“I warned you,” he said softly.

More people gathered. A woman pulled out her phone. Someone whispered about calling an ambulance.

Jana took Matrix’s hand.

“Let’s go,” she said, not looking back.

They walked away, quiet amid the chaos.

They checked out with the rest of her items—shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, kitten treats—and retrieved the last bags from the pet store next door. The clerk barely looked up, too busy gossiping with the employee watching Herman’s meltdown through the glass window.

Twenty minutes later, they were pulling out of the parking lot.

Red lights strobed in the rearview mirror.

Herman was strapped to a stretcher, still shouting about alien dogs and mind-reading demons.

The EMTs were trying—and failing—not to laugh.

Matrix watched for a moment, then turned his attention to the road ahead.

Jana reached over and laced her fingers through his.

“Thank you,” she murmured, squeezing his fingers.

“He was warned,” he replied.

“Yeah. I understand now why his kids want nothing to do with him. So, is there anything else you want before we head back to the clinic? More donuts for the road?” she teased.

Matrix grinned. “I think I’m in the mood for something even sweeter.”

Jana flushed—and laughed. “God help me.”