by Skyla Madi
“That’s you,” he states, his voice as cold as ice.
I frown. “That’s not me. That’s not my name.”
“It’s definitely not mine. You better get used to it, Fortunate.”
I flinch as splinters dig into my chest. No emotion crosses his face. He’s stone, like the first day I met him. That’s what I want, isn’t it? Detachment? I didn’t imagine it feeling this awful. I cross the bathroom and retrieve the shirt Kade peeled from my body.
“I’ll return the shirt.”
I turn around as Kade leans on the basin, his arms locked into a straight line and his large hands gripping the porcelain. His angry eyes meet mine in the reflection of the mirror.
“Keep it.”
My dry throat sticks together as I swallow and nod. I turn away from him and pull the shirt on over my head. The warm cotton wraps around my body, caressing every pore, kissing every hair. It smells like him. Of course it does.
Because ripping my own heart out isn’t painful enough, I have to smell him while I do it too?
“Kade…I’m sorry—”
“Spare me your apology.” He turns around, folding his thick arms against his strong, shapely chest. “You’ve made your decision and I can’t change it. What more do you want from me?”
What do I want? I don’t know. I don’t expect us to be friends. I just…I just want to look at him for a few more seconds.
More bangs echo around Kaden’s room and they shout a name I’m not familiar with. It’s the name of a girl who was born a Fortunate and abandoned as a baby. It’s the name of a girl who had her future taken from her…
…but it’s not me.
“Sorry…” I mutter, turning away from him.
My anxiety spikes. Never turn your back on a Fortunate. Granted, it doesn’t apply to me anymore, but it still feels so wrong.
I can barely carry the weight of my own shoulders as I cross over to the bedroom door. I reach for the handle and as my fingers curl around the cool metal, a loud snarl rips from the bathroom followed by the startling crash of shattering glass. The sound sends my heart catapulting into my throat.
From the moment it was mentioned I would be property of Kaden Sario I had this overwhelming panic that sooner or later, he would destroy me. In the end…I guess I destroyed him.
Chapter Eight
Kade
His chest heaved, crushing his heart on every exhale. From the other room, he heard the door close, sealing every pang of conscience he had about tonight in the room with him. The surge of his regrets was enough to suffocate him.
She was gone.
Kade cursed, clenching his aching fist. Of course she was. Why would she stay? He had nothing to offer her. He looked at his reflection in the broken pieces of his mirror in the sink. They obscured his appearance, deforming his face. He looked like a monster. Is that what she saw when she looked at him?
The look of disgust in her eyes when she realised what he’d done…What did she envisage? Did she seriously expect Kade to act in a non-violent way? Violence was all Kade knew. He couldn’t force Nine to be violent any more than she could force him not to be. They were raised differently. They were polar opposites. She was the calm eye to his ferocious hurricane. She was the trickle to his surge.
Kade huffed and pushed away from the sink. He didn’t need her. All she’d done was distract him from his purpose. Once he made it into the city, this place would no longer matter. She wouldn’t matter.
Nine was a distraction.
A painful, soul-crushing distraction.
Forgoing the shower, Kade tore from the bathroom, half-naked and barefoot. He stormed all the way over to his bottle of whiskey and grabbed it by the neck. For the briefest second, he looked at the crystal-bottomed whiskey glass and then turned away. He didn’t need the glass tonight, not when he planned on finishing the rest of the bottle anyway. Kade cracked open the lid and left no time for it to oxygenate before he pressed it to his lips and tipped it down his throat.
Nine was wrong about him being scared. When the time arrived, and it would arrive, he’d be the first to claim a front row seat to watch the destruction of this twisted society. The difference between him and Nine was that he was smart enough not to admit it aloud. Who knew how long those moderators were standing there?
Nine’s epiphany about Kade not being able to stand up to those of a similar station was wrong. He would have taken everyone on yesterday to save her life. Was she not there? Did she not feel him press his lips to hers in front of Fortunates and Unfortunates alike? Did she not see him put a gun to Soyer’s head? What more could he have done to prove to her that his love had no limits? He knew her biggest concern was Vince. Kade would kill Vince, but not until the time was right. Another death so close to Michael’s would be suspicious. It’d lead into an extensive investigation that could expose everything. There was also the matter of appearance. Vince and Kade had to provide a united front to keep the other houses at bay. They’d crush the Sario house under their weight if they ever discovered just how disorganised the Sarios were. Another death would plunge them into anarchy…into civil war.
Leaning against his desk, Kade stuffed his hand into the pocket of his slacks and slumped into himself. Inside his chest his heart stumbled in its beat.
He missed her already.
In his pocket, a thin metal chain brushed against his fingertips. His heart tightened as he lowered the bottle of drink to his belly button. Blowing out a heavy exhale, Kade wrapped the tiny chain around his fingers and pulled it out, freeing it from his warm pocket. Light leaked in from the bathroom, hitting the lion pendant on the right angle. It was exquisite. He was so certain she’d like it…Maybe it just wasn’t the right time to give it to her, he thought.
“My, my…isn’t that beautiful.”
Kade bristled at the venom-laced feminine voice that infiltrated his private space. He flicked his stare from the ruby mane to the woman who draped herself against the doorframe.
Elizabeth.
He took note of the sensual way she held her body as she casually brushed the tips of her fingers across the tops of her breasts. As always, her dress was glamorous, a mixture of deep blood reds and glistening golds. She looked like a queen. An evil, malicious queen who was up to no good.
Kade noticed the corset on her dress tied up at the front—the way he told her he liked it. It wasn’t something he fancied anymore. At least, not on her.
“That would look gorgeous around a worthy neck,” she said, her tone ending on an amused high.
“It would.” Kade swallowed down the bitterness that mixed with saliva on his tongue. “I’ll be sure to give it to N—Anna—the next time I see her.”
He squeezed the necklace in his fist and pushed it back into his pocket. Kade knew that Nine, and only Nine, was worthy of the necklace. It was one of a kind. A necklace unlike any other in Freeport. He fitted the ruby himself and paid the Unfortunate who made the chain and sculpted the lion in food and fresh water. Kade even gave the young man a dab of antibacterial cream for the cut he’d sustained while doing it. Her necklace was blood free. It was made willingly, not by force.
The only one of its kind.
Just like her.
A necklace like this would never be for Elizabeth. Not in a million lifetimes.
“Cute. You call it by its real name.” Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth dropped her pathetic attempt at seduction and stomped into the room.
If only he hadn’t left his gun in the bathroom.
He exhaled. “What do you want, Elizabeth?”
Batting her eyelids, she fingered the lace that held her corset together, keeping her bare, generous bust from pouring out.
“You.”
“Me?” Kade simpered as he turned and placed his bottle on the desk behind him.
“You don’t have an Unfortunate to take care of you anymore.” She frowned, her lips pouted in a sympathetic pinch. “I assumed we’d pick up where we left off. How long has
it been? You must want it really bad.”
He wanted sex. He wanted nothing more than to come by something other than his own hand, but he didn’t want it bad enough to do it with someone who didn’t have auburn hair, violet eyes, or smelled like cherries. He didn’t want to be inside anyone else.
Kade shook his head, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “I don’t want it that bad.”
“No?”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows curved as a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. Between the pads of her thumb and index finger, she pinched the lace of her corset, pulling slightly.
“Don’t,” he warned her, but perhaps he didn’t put enough warning in his voice.
Elizabeth tugged at the lace and it unravelled, exposing her milky breasts and flat tummy. “Oops.”
She waited patiently, but Kade didn’t know what she expected him to do. His stomach didn’t clench and his cock didn’t twitch. He simply wasn’t interested. Strangely enough, in the short time Elizabeth stood before him half-naked, he realised her areolas were smaller than Nine’s. He’d never put much thought into it, but in that moment he decided he liked bigger areolas. Nine’s were darker too. He preferred it.
“Cover yourself up, Elizabeth, and get out of my house before I throw you out.”
Elizabeth ignored the dark, serious tone Kade put into his voice. Her face grew cloudy as she scowled, shadows pooling in her face. It was a look Kade knew all too well. It was the look of a spoiled little rich girl who was told she couldn’t have what she wanted. He couldn’t imagine such a nasty expression staining Nine’s features. He also reflected on his own behaviour and wondered if he looked half has annoying as Elizabeth did when he didn’t get his way.
He probably did.
Growling unintelligibly under her breath, Elizabeth pulled her corset back up and strapped her breasts beneath the glossy fabric.
“Is it because of her?” she asked, avoiding Kade’s eyes as she re-tied the lace.
What did she think? Was the answer not obvious? Why was anything he did not fucking obvious?
“Of course it’s because of her.” He sat against the edge of his table. “Have I led you to believe that I’d want you again? I haven’t wanted you since that night in the Black House and even then the sex wasn’t fulfilling.”
Elizabeth flinched, but it failed to hit him where it should.
“Well, I don’t want you anymore either,” she stated, planting her long-fingered hands on her hips. “I was only doing this out of pity.”
His eyebrows shot up, an amused smile hinting at his lips. “Pity?”
“Yes, pity. You’re weak and pathetic. Pining over an insignificant Unfortunate who doesn’t understand the complexities of a Fortunate relationship. She can never give you what I can. You want to marry someone who doesn’t have the same background or the support of the people? Go right ahead. You want to spawn children with an Unfortunate who can’t love them like a Fortunate can? Be my guest. You know better than anyone what you have to do before Vince turns twenty-five if you want to remain the leader of your house. I’m offering you that. If you don’t accept it, don’t come crying to me when your future is in shambles.”
Elizabeth jumped as Kade kicked the trash can, strewing shredded paper and empty pens along the floor. He was sick of people telling him Nine wasn’t human, telling him he was in love with something that didn’t deserve it or couldn’t love him back. He didn’t blame Elizabeth for her twisted ideal on the nature of Unfortunates. She was only spewing what she was taught as an impressionable child. He hated her sheep-like brain and disliked her defective soul. He detested that she wasn’t capable of thinking or feeling for herself.
It was during the secondary phase of schooling they were taught that Unfortunates didn’t love their young like Fortunates did. He was taught that, with time, Unfortunates would forget about their children, like animals do. Kade never believed it. Unlike Elizabeth, who relied on what she heard, Kade had seen the horror with his own eyes…the pain, the trauma, as babies were ripped from loving arms and put into camps.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Kade shook his head, but the memory forced its way in—a memory he hadn’t thought about in years.
He felt the warm pressure on the back of his neck where his father held him in place and the memory took over.
“Take it,” his father ordered, digging his fingers into Kade’s neck.
Kade tried to pull away and run, but Michael held him tight, so tight Kade was certain his skin would bruise for weeks. He didn’t want to take the baby. He didn’t want to separate the baby from its mother.
Kade’s pulse hammered in his ears and a balmy sweat leaked from his palms.
“Do you like being a Fortunate, Kade?”
He nodded, nervously licking his lips, desperate to add moisture.
“This is what being a Fortunate entails. If we don’t do this, how would we live? These jobs guarantee our place on the food chain.”
Kade shook his head. “I don’t want to—”
With a growl, Michael shoved Kade forward and he stumbled over a palm-sized stone. The ground rushed up to meet him as he fell on his hands and knees. He swallowed hard and shivered as his hands slid on the remnants of the woman’s afterbirth. His stomach churned, making his tongue quake in his mouth. Kade clenched his jaw shut, fighting the urge to vomit. In front of him, the black haired woman cowered, clenching her suckling baby to her chest.
“Please…” she whispered, a plea just for Kade. “Not my baby. Please.”
Her blood seeped through the soft, tan slacks Kade wore and soaked his skin. He wanted to be a Fortunate, but he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to see this.
Kade snapped his head over his shoulder, shooting a glare in Michael’s direction. “This isn’t my job! I’m not a moderator.”
“But you sympathise with these lesser humans.” Michael stepped closer. “This exercise is to desensitise you. We will come here every day until you can do it without feeling, without your misplaced compassion. They do not deserve our sympathy.”
Dropping his head, Kade pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth until his throat started cramping. The woman in front of him was innocent—born at the wrong time. He could’ve been born an Unfortunate just as easy as she could a Fortunate. It doesn’t make sense. The same species, living on the same planet, with the same features and functions. Why? Why were we not living side by side? As equals. The things we could accomplish if we lived in unity, not disarray.
Kade glanced at his hands. Her blood was red. He shifted, exposing the graze on his knee from the tear in his pants. Her blood wasn’t darker or lighter than his. In fact, he was certain his father wouldn’t be able to tell whose blood was whose if he showed him.
“They bleed the same,” Kade muttered, angling his hands so the morning sun above him hit it at the right angle.
“What did you say?”
Kade heard the silent rage in his father’s quiet tone, but he was numb to it. If Michael wanted to steal this woman’s baby then that was his problem. Kade refused to have it on his conscience.
Pushing himself off the rocky floor, Kade straightened his posture and turned around to face his father. Inhaling through his nose, Kade extended his bloody hands.
“Their blood. It matches ours,” he stated, his eyebrows furrowing.
Anger and disgust brewed in the dark, oily depths of Michael’s eyes, but it failed to terrify Kade like it once did. Kade knew what was coming. He’d be dragged home and thrown in the hot tin shed. For days he’d burn and go without food or water and be forced to listen to the Fortunates’ rules and regulations.
Over and over.
Until he hated them for making him feel empathetic.
It was a vicious cycle.
Michael pulled his black coat around his belly and stepped around Kade. “You ought to be more like your brother,” he sneered, pulling out his hand and wiping his top lip.
Kade’s chest clenched,
forcing air out of his lungs. He lowered his head as the woman screamed. Terrified, the baby screamed too. The shadows Kade saw on the wall as his father tore the baby boy from his mother’s arms and held it against his body as he extended his arm.
Bang.
The baby wailed.
Kade closed his eyes.
Just like that, the little baby boy had no mother…destined to be an Unfortunate for the rest of his short life.
Kade ran his fingers through his hair and dropped back against his desk. He thought he’d supressed the memory, but there it was. As vivid and as real as the day it happened.
Despite himself, he smirked. How cruel was the universe? Kade finally got a handle on being a Fortunate and then he was given an Unfortunate he couldn’t control, no matter how hard he tried. Now she was a Fortunate…and she hated him for being too cruel. Somewhere during his long, hard battle, he became confused. Torn in half by two extremes beyond his control.
“Get out.” Kade sighed, grabbing his bottle of whiskey.
“You’d really turn me away without offering me a drink?”
Kade laughed and took a mouthful of his room temperature whiskey, clenching his teeth as it bubbled and burned along his tongue.
“A drink?” Kade laughed again. “I wouldn’t offer you a life raft if you were drowning.”
Elizabeth’s eyes thinned into slits. “That’s how you’re going to be? Our history…it doesn’t mean anything to you anymore?”
Was she really that naïve? Kade thought. There was once a time he would have considered her a friend. Now that was a different story. Elizabeth went out of her way to make his life difficult when he had Nine as his Unfortunate. She made Nine miserable—had her pour orange juice down a perfectly clean dress. It took him a long time to realise Elizabeth was toxic. She was toxic to his life, to his soul, and to his humanity.
“You left me with no choice,” he told her. “I can’t trust you.”
Elizabeth nodded her head with a hard swallow. With erratic fingers, she toyed with the end of a pale blonde lock of hair that draped down her chest.