Escaping My Fatal Digital Marriage

Jayson stares at me. His chest stops moving. The intense, calculating look in his eyes dissolves into a chaotic mix of shock, raw pain, and utter disbelief.

He takes a slow, involuntary step toward me. He raises his hand, his fingers trembling slightly, reaching out as if he wants to touch my cheek to see if I am real.

My heart skips a beat. I press my back harder against the concrete wall, shrinking away from his hand.

The tiny movement breaks the spell. Jayson blinks hard. He yanks his hand back as if the air around me burned him. A flash of deep self-loathing crosses his face.

He turns his back to me immediately, walking stiffly toward a metal medical cabinet in the corner. His shoulders are tense.

The Warden's text scrolls across my vision.

"Target emotional fluctuation detected. Protective protocols engaged."

Jayson walks back holding a canister of medical spray. He drops to one knee in front of me. His face is a blank, hard mask again. He grabs my bleeding arm. His grip is firm, leaving no room for argument, but his thumb rests surprisingly gently against my wrist.

He sprays the cold foam over the deep gash on my elbow. The sharp sting fades instantly into a numb, cooling sensation.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice still hoarse from being choked.

He doesn't look at my face. "You're weak. You have no business being in the lower sectors. You're a liability."

A harsh, mocking laugh echoes from the darkest corner of the room.

I flinch, my head snapping toward the sound.

Dameon is sitting on top of a rusted metal crate. I didn't even hear him come in. Half of his face is hidden in the shadows, but his eyes gleam with a toxic, manic energy.

"Look at the hero," Dameon sneers, his voice dripping with venom. "Playing savior to another piece of trash. Does it make you feel better, Jayson? Does it fix the guilt?"

Jayson stands up slowly. He steps in front of me again. "Keep your mouth shut, Dameon."

Dameon slides off the crate. He doesn't walk; he glides, moving with a terrifying, fluid grace. He ignores Jayson entirely and stops right at the edge of Jayson's shadow, staring directly at me.

His face twitches. The corrupted code beneath his skin pulses. He looks at my face, and a wave of absolute, sickening revulsion washes over his features.

Without warning, he lunges.

His fingers snap forward, transforming into a wicked, glowing micro-blade aimed directly at my right eye.

The killing intent is so heavy it paralyzes my lungs. I can't blink. I can't breathe.

The blade stops one millimeter from my cornea.

Jayson's hand is clamped around Dameon's wrist like a steel trap.

Sparks explode between them. The collision of their conflicting codes creates a high-pitched, agonizing screech that makes my teeth ache. The air smells like burning ozone.

"Touch her again," Jayson snarls, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper, "and I will submit the request to have you locked in the core partition for a hundred cycles."

The word hits Dameon like a physical blow. A violent spasm of pure agony rips through his eyes, quickly buried under a layer of explosive rage.

He yanks his arm back. The blade dissolves. He glares at me with a hatred so deep it makes my stomach turn, then turns and stalks to the furthest corner of the room, throwing himself into a broken chair.

The heavy silence in the room is suffocating. I press my hand against my chest, feeling my heart hammering against my ribs. Cold sweat drips down my neck.

Jayson turns back to me. The harshness in his eyes softens just a fraction.

"You're safe here," he says quietly.

He shrugs off his heavy tactical jacket and drapes it over my shaking shoulders. The jacket is heavy, smelling of rain and gunpowder. The residual heat from his body seeps into my freezing skin, stopping my shivers.

In the corner, Dameon watches us. His fingers dig into the plaster wall, carving deep, jagged grooves into the surface.

The Warden flashes a red warning.

"Dameon's hostility level increasing."

I pull the jacket tighter around myself. I am trapped in a concrete box with a man who wants to protect a ghost, and a man who wants to murder me.

Jayson walks over to the central console. He taps the screen, bringing up a glowing blue holographic map of the city.

"Now," Jayson says, his voice strictly business. "We need to figure out why you were targeted."