by Frost Kay
A leaf brushed her cheek and she swatted it away, peeking over the top of the plant at the rest of the field. Mostly everyone had gone home already. Her nose wrinkled. Scratch that. Marco had sent them home and chose to continue to work her like a dog. Not that she minded hard work, but the injustice of it all didn’t escape her.
A prickle started at the base of her neck, and she quickly began to harvest, knowing exactly who was watching her. Every day, his infatuation with punishing her grew. Hazel did everything in her power to escape notice, but no matter what, she always found him watching her like a hawk.
An annoying hair dropped into her eyes, and she raked it out of the way, flinching a little bit at the pain that sparked at the touch. To this day, she didn’t know why she lied to the old woman about how she got hurt.
You’d become a bigger target if you said anything.
Being Untouched already made her stick out. Then, there was the fear that the old woman wouldn’t believe her. Or, if Abuela did believe her and no one else spoke up, it would put a target on her back. No one said a damn thing when Marco backhanded her so hard she saw stars. It would be her word against his, and she was the foreigner. No, it was best to keep her head down and not cause any more trouble.
Her lips twitched as she pulled another tomato from the vine. If there was one thing she was good at, it was being invisible.
The rotten fruit burst, and pulpy juice and tomato guts dripped all over her hand. She scowled and wrinkled her nose, shaking the remains of the mutilated tomato from her fingers. Disgusting. Abuela better be nice to her tonight or she was going on strike.
On the bright side, the other workers seemed to grow accustomed to her presence. After the first day, the blatant staring ceased. By the end of the second day, they’d stopped giving her a wide berth. One even asked how she was. After not being spoken to for three days, it shocked the hell out of her. Hazel had looked behind her, genuinely thinking they were speaking to someone else.
“You’re almost done for the night, Untouched. Hurry it up,” a male voice yelled. The whiny voice belonged to a pasty man so white it hurt to look at him. She still had no clue how he didn’t fry in the sun. Unnatural worm.
Her upper lip curled, and her jaw flexed. “You hurry it up,” she growled, glaring at the tomato plants.
A head popped up from the other side, and her jaw dropped as the mousy mother from the other day squinted at her. Hazel’s eyes widened, and she froze. Would the woman call her out for being disrespectful? Was that even a thing?
The woman’s nose twitched, her whiskers quivering. She winked and then ducked back down, leaving Hazel gaping. What in the world? She knelt, the damp soil seeping through her jeans, and slowly plucked another tomato from the plant.
“I didn’t mean to be offensive,” she began.
“You just said what we were all thinking. Stupid, but funny.”
Hazel shook her head, stunned that the woman had finally said something to her. “Yeah. I don’t relish getting punished again.”
“That was the least of it. He has a much worse side.”
She didn’t reply but kept working. Why was the woman still working? Had she gotten in trouble, too? “What did you do to get stuck with working so late?”
“Nothing.”
Frowning, she pushed aside part of the plant to get a glimpse of the woman. “Then why are you here? Are you a slave, too?” Hazel ventured. It would explain her long hours.
The woman huffed out a laugh. “No, I am not indentured, although sometimes it feels like it.”
“Then why?” Maybe she was being too pushy. “I don’t mean to pry. I’m just curious, and I haven’t spoken to many people here to know the customs and what is considered polite. If I’ve overstepped, just tell me.”
“I am here as a protection.”
“From what?”
“Not from what, from whom. We’re not so different, you and I,” the woman whispered. “A female alone is in more danger than she could ever comprehend. You are Untouched, and I am Tainted, but we’re both daughters, sisters, and, in my case, a mother. In this world, that means something.” Her dark brown eyes locked on Hazel’s blue ones. “We should never be alone. You especially.”
Wasn’t that the damn truth.
Hazel peeked over her shoulder at the group of men passing a flask back and forth. An image of Aaron pawing at her flashed through her mind. She swore she could smell his boozy breath on the air. Hazel fought back the nausea and turned back to the dark green plants.
Add inebriation to the mix and things got a little darker.
She pushed the plants a little farther apart to get a better look at the angel on the other side of the tomatoes. The mousy woman brushed caramel-colored strands of hair out of her face, round ears twitching.
Hazel held her hand out. “I’m Hazel.”
“Mariah.” The mousy woman slipped her palm into Hazel’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. I like your whiskers,” she blurted.
Mariah blinked and cracked a smile. “Thank you. I’m told they’re my best feature.”
She grinned back, instantly liking the mousy woman.
“You’re finished for the day,” a male voice slurred.
Her smile fizzled out. Even though Hazel wanted to go home, she’d been dreading taking her basket of tomatoes up to the group of men.
“Keep your head down, leave your basket, and don’t make eye contact. Understood?” Mariah whispered.
“Got it.”
She so didn’t have it. Her legs felt like jelly as she stood and picked up her basket, following Mariah’s lead.
They silently moved down the line of tomatoes and approached the circle of men. They were tossing a tomato back and forth, their laughter too loud to be sober.
Mariah quickly placed her basket on the farthest edge and Hazel followed suit. Her heart pounded in her chest as she spun on her heel. Now all she had to do was make it home.
“Untouched!”
No. no. no.
She picked up her pace, and Mariah began to jog. That was not a good sign.
Boots thumped against the earth, signaling the approach of someone with a heavy tread.
Damn it.
She burst into a sprint when a hand snagged the back of her sweaty shirt and yanked. Hazel coughed as the material gagged her, and she stumbled backward, almost crashing to the ground. Material ripped as she tore away from her assailant, spinning to face him.
Fear rolled in her gut as she faced Marco, and his men surrounded her. She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder, but Mariah was gone, and she didn’t blame her.
“Where are you going so fast?”
Hazel twisted back around, careful to keep her expression blank. No reason to get beaten for a disrespectful sneer. “Heading home.” Simple.
“Home?”
“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me, Abuela will be wanting me back.”
She backed up slowly, not taking her eyes from the man studying her through dark sunglasses, his black spiky hair mussed. Hazel grunted when huge hands shoved her. She lurched forward and toppled into Marco’s chest.
A smarmy smirk tipped up the corners of his lips. “Not so eager to leave after all.”
A tiny fang peeked out from his top lip. Hazel blanched and scrambled backward, but his hands tightened around her biceps, pinning her in place.
“Typical female. Changing her mind.”
He flung her backward, and she tripped over a foot, crashing to the ground. Her butt landed on a rock and her palms were scraped, but she’d had worse. Hazel shifted to the side, so the rock rested just under her thigh.
Marco sauntered over to her and squatted. He tapped his forefinger on the tip of her left boot before running his finger up the side of her calf.
“Stay a little while, won’t you?” he crooned.
Not on her life. She knew what dangers lay ahead. And the Tainted was mistaken in thinking that she would willin
gly participate in any of his fun. She might have played docile for the last few days, but she’d go down fighting. First, she needed to get up. Being on the ground with the psychopath was a recipe for disaster.
His hand inched up a little further, settling on her knee. That was enough of that.
Hazel kept her attention focused on the creep and edged her hand underneath her leg, the fingers of her right hand curling around the rock, her left grabbing a handful of sand.
“What do you say? You wanna play a little game?” Marco asked, leaning further into her face.
Checkmate.
“I hate games,” Hazel said coldly before kicking him in chest and then the face. His glasses flew through the air, and she tossed the handful of sand into his watering black eyes and rolled onto her feet in a move Jo had taught her when she was twelve.
“That’s enough!” Matt’s voice shouted.
She closed her eyes, the cold rock still biting into her right palm.
“The Untouched attacked Marco,” a huge bear-looking man growled.
That was not true. She opened her mouth to argue when Matt’s emotionless voice cut over her.
“Really? I’m sure Abuela will be very interested in hearing this and will dole out punishment.” Matt glared at Hazel. “Move, slave.”
She hated the word.
If it got her out of danger, then she’d be the best slave there was. She pinned her gaze to the ground and marched away, never looking at any of the abusive liars. Hazel didn’t bother dropping her rock and couldn’t hear Matt’s words past the pounding in her ears.
Her breath sawed in and out of her chest as she stormed away from the farm and into the town. Her hands shook, and the trembles worked up her arms. Hazel barely noticed the people on the sides scurrying out of her way as she powered down the road. The only thing on her mind was to put as much space between herself and the predators as possible.
Tears blurred her vision, and she angrily wiped them away, still gripping the rock. She hadn’t done anything to deserve the treatment Marco and his gang doled out. Abuela said to put her head down and work, so Hazel had done so, and it still wasn’t enough. What would they have done if someone hadn’t stepped forward?
Hazel’s eyes filled once again, and she tripped while trying to wipe them away. Matt caught her arm and kept her from falling on her face. The texture of his palm against her arm made her skin crawl. She jerked away from him and stumbled into a little alley, her back scraping against the rough stone wall of a small home.
Matt held his hands up and stepped closer, his expression grim, blue reptilian eyes sad. “I’m not here to hurt you, babe. Let’s get you home.”
She shook her head, her dirty hair flying around her face. How was she supposed to explain her scrapes and bruises to Abuela? The old woman was as smart as a whip. She would see right through Hazel’s lies. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her bottom lip trembled.
Matt stepped closer. “Everything is going to be alright,” he crooned, finally bridging the gap between them.
She only fought for a moment before collapsing against his chest, all her rage, terror, and hopelessness pouring out in a rush of tears. “Why?” she choked out. “I haven’t done anything to him.”
“Some men seek to hold power over others and enjoy pain. Marco isn’t a good man.”
“He’s not a man at all. He’s an animal,” she cried, dropping the rock to clutch Matt.
He stiffened and then pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her like he could hold her in one piece. “He won’t be able to escape punishment for this, Hazel. He’ll pay. Marco made a mistake touching a Blooded’s indentured.”
Indentured. Slave. That’s all she was. A slave. A possession.
Marco would be punished because she was owned by the monster, not because he’d committed a crime against another human being. And Matt allowed her to be sold. He’d betrayed her and she was allowing him to hold her. Pathetic.
Fueled by disgust and hate, Hazel wrenched away from Matt and pointed a shaking finger at the sad imitation of her best friend. “It’s your fault this happened. You allowed me to be sold.”
“I know you’re upset—”
She sliced a hand through the air, her voice rising. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, nor I about you.” Hazel inhaled a wobbly breath, more tears rushing down her face. “Since the beginning, you’ve done nothing but betray me.”
“You want to talk about betrayal?” Matt asked softly. “Let’s talk about how you drugged me and planned on leaving without so much as a goodbye.”
“Because you wouldn’t help me escape!” she exploded. “Do you think I wanted to leave you here?”
“I think you took one look at me and formed an ignorant opinion without listening to what I had to say!”
“And what do you have to say for yourself?” she hissed, holding her right arm out, exposing the henna that marked her as a slave. “What excuses do you have for having me imprisoned and then aiding my enemies in selling me to the highest bidder?”
“It wasn’t like that, and you know it. You’re placing all the blame on me. Look in the bloody mirror, Hazel. No one forced you to hurt Doc or attack Noah.”
“You smug bastard. This is not about him—this is about you. Why?” she whispered, her voice cracking. He didn’t answer. “Why?” Hazel shouted. “How could you? I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend!” he shouted back, running his hands through his short blond hair. “If you’d only stop and listen, really listen to what I have to say.”
“I’m listening.”
“No, I don’t think you are, but I’m not going to tiptoe around your feelings anymore,” Matt growled.
“You never did before,” she retorted. “So at least one thing hasn’t changed.”
“I came back for you. After I made it through my transition, I went back.”
A stillness settled over Hazel. “Impossible.”
He smiled bitterly. “They warned me, but I wouldn’t listen. I knew if I just got back to Harbor, everything would be okay. Even if they didn’t let me into the city, at least you would know that I was alive.” Matt laughed, the sound hollow. “I didn’t even make it to the gate before your father found me. I was lucky he didn’t shoot me on sight. I begged to see you, but he refused.”
A dull ringing echoed in her ears. “No.”
“I’ve never begged for anything in my life, but I got on my hands and knees and begged. I had a letter for you just in case they wouldn’t let me see you. Your father took it from me and burned it.” Matt shook his head. “He said it was better if you thought I was dead.”
“You’re lying,” she whispered. Her papa wouldn’t have done that. He knew what it was like to lose someone he loved. He couldn’t have done something so cruel.
“Your brothers felt sorry for me. Hell, Jo even hugged me before they retreated back to the city.”
The world wavered around her. Her brothers knew? “They wouldn’t have done that to me.” Not that long ago, Jo had held her while she cried in the kitchen.
“Don’t be naïve, babe. You know what your family would do to keep you safe after what happened to your mama.”
Oh, she knew. Hazel placed her right hand on the wall for balance. “So, you left.”
“No, I tried to find a way in. After five attempts, I was shot in the leg. It was only good thinking on Jameson’s part to follow me that I survived. He brought me home, and I’ve stayed ever since.”
“Home,” she muttered. Harbor was home, not the Tainted sanctuary. “You left me to mourn you.”
“What other choice did I have?” Matt asked gutturally. “I tried everything I could think of to get to you.”
Hazel wrapped her left arm around her middle and choked back the ugly sobs that threatened to break free. “So, you won’t take me home, because they wouldn’t let you back in?”
“No,” Matt whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I won
’t take you back, because you’re now Tainted by association. Your family will never take you back in now.”
She jerked away from him and shook her head. “But I’m not sick. I’m not Tainted.”
“You’ve been gone too long. Harbor will never open its door to you again. I’m so sorry.”
She bent in half and dry-heaved. Even though Hazel didn’t want to believe him, she knew her papa. The man was ruthless in protecting Harbor. He’d sacrifice his own daughter if he had to. Matt pulled her hair back from her face, but she stumbled away from him, wiping her mouth.
“Stay away from me,” she snarled. “Just stay away.”
Spinning on her heel, she sprinted out of the alley. Matt called for her, but she ignored him, focusing on her breaths and the pumping of her arms and legs. She ran until she couldn’t any longer and the sun had faded from the sky completely.
Darkness surrounded her, broken up by lanterns that cast soft light from front porches. Hazel kept to the dark, though, not the least bit afraid. Somewhere along her run, she’d shed any fear that clung to her. Now, she only felt numbness and exhaustion.
Your family are liars. Your best friend’s a traitor. And you’re Tainted by association.
Abuela’s modest home came into view when Hazel swerved around the last home. A group of Tainted stood on the old woman’s porch, haloed by lantern light. She couldn’t see who exactly it was there, but she hesitated when she spotted an immense set of leathery wings. Just what she needed.
Hazel plowed forward and edged the plot of carrots, her sweaty shirt sticking to her skin. She carefully opened the rickety gate, but it squealed in protest, announcing her arrival. With care, she closed the gate and kept her back to the unwelcome waiting party. Abuela was adamant about keeping rabbits out of her garden, not that her fence did much. The fuzzy little pests were escape artists.
A whoosh of air ruffled her tangled, loose hair.
“Where have you been?”
Here they go.
She slowly faced the hulking monster blocking the path. Hazel forced her shaking legs to move and strode up to him, staring at the small patch of burnished skin peeking out of the top of his shirt. “You’re in the way. Please move.”