by Skyla Madi
Unexpectedly, an amused gleam sparkles in his eyes.
“Your dress is on backwards,” he points out, his lips quirking at the corners as he fights a rare smile.
Is it? I glance down. How can he tell?
Kade steps forward and I step back, letting him into my room. With calculated grace, he kicks the door closed behind him and it slams shut. I swallow, a little embarrassed I didn’t successfully dress myself.
“Arms up,” he says and I do as I’m told.
Kade’s large hands slide against my hips as he bunches the dress in his fists and lifts it up and over my head. I avoid eye contact with him, but I feel his amused stare on my face as he turns the dress around and lifts it over my head.
“You’re pouting,” he states as I slip my arms into the sleeves. “Why?”
“I want to lead an army, but I can’t even dress myself?” I tug on my sleeves to cover my blemishes. “It’s pathetic.”
“You have me.”
I peer up at him and just about lose my breath. I’ve never seen him so content. Lips that are typically pressed into a firm, thin line curve so effortlessly and his eyes—eyes that are usually void of humour and light—now glimmer with specks of his soul. Did I do that? Did the promise of our union do that?
“You ask a question, I answer it. You make a mistake, I fix it.” He glances at my dress. “You put your dress on backwards, I turn it around. We’re a team.”
The thought warms my heart.
“You’re not mad that I’m late for breakfast?”
Kade shakes his head and saunters over to the wardrobe. “I wasn’t down there holding my breath, that’s for sure.”
He laughs as he bends low and pulls out a pair of white flats. Straightening himself, he holds out the shoes and says, “Come. There are some blueberries with my name on them.”
∞
I clench Kade’s arm tighter in my hand as the curious stares of other Fortunates stick to me. I cower beside him, unable to bring myself to feel the same mock-confidence I felt last night. Kade, however, manages to keep his head high. Always proud. Always straight-shouldered and powerful.
“So much for going unnoticed,” I murmur.
“Enjoy the bright morning sun.” He glances at me. “We’re not here for them.”
I stop, digging my heels into the ground. The soles of my shoes press into the mud. Kade stops and turns into me, shielding me from those watching. His black irises flicker over my face and glisten with concern. Panic seizes my chest as an uncomfortable heat creeps over my skin and climbs my neck.
“What’s the matter? Are you all right?”
I focus on his broad shoulders, shoulders that are sheathed in a white button up shirt and a crisp black two button jacket.
“I want to go back inside,” I whisper harshly.
He slides his hands against my hips and the feel of them traps me. I press my palms against his stomach and try to push away from him, but he doesn’t let me go. Why won’t he let me go?
“Please,” I beg, trying desperately to free myself from his grip.
Tears well in my eyes and lumps form in my throat. I don’t want to be here. I can’t be here. I have no right. I’m an imposter—a fake.
“Hey.” Kade cups my face, forcing our eyes to lock. “Relax.”
He runs his thumbs over my cheekbones, but it isn’t enough to calm my nerves.
“I can’t relax,” I tell him. “They’re terrifying. I’m scared, please.”
“They can’t hurt you.”
I try to pull away, but he holds me in place.
“Listen. They can’t hurt you. All right?”
My heart races, my ribs quaking in response. Cautiously, Kade moves his hands from my face. He shifts one to the back of my head and the other to the small of my back. I squeak as he pulls me in close, wrapping my body up in his long, thick arms. He cranes his neck and rests his cheek against mine. I sigh. The loud sounds of breakfast are muted by his jacket, by this force field he’s surrounded me with. I can’t move. My arms are squished between his chest and mine, but I feel safe. I close my eyes and breathe him in. The scent of soap and baked bread engulfs me and it finally calms the frantic beat of my heart.
“What is it?” he whispers into my ear. “Tell me what it is so I can make it better.”
I pause. Even as an Unfortunate I’ve never been this on edge. What has triggered it? Is it the fear of them discovering my plans? When they look at me, can they see my impending betrayal? Or is it the disapproval in their eyes? I wiggle my toes and they touch the inside of my shoes, sending another bolt of breathlessness through me. I struggle against Kade until my lungs threaten to burst. A sob slips from me and I drop my head against his shoulder.
“I think it’s the shoes.” I wiggle my toes again and panic bursts through my body. “They’re suffocating me.”
“I’ll fix it, okay? Just…no more crying.”
I sniffle and nod. No more crying.
Kade’s slow to release me, but when he does I keep my eyes on him. I don’t want to see anyone else. Gracefully, Kaden crouches low and lifts my dress above my ankle. People gasp at the sight of him bowed before me. It matters to them that he is a Fortunate on his knees in front of an ex-Unfortunate and it matters to them that he is a man on his knees in front of a woman. What they’re witnessing is abnormal. It’s abhorred.
“Kaden, you don’t have to—”
Sliding one soft palm underneath my calf and the other around my ankle, he slips off my shoes. My feet sink into the ground. There’s something awfully comforting about having the bare soles of my feet against the damp earth.
“Better?” he asks, carrying my shoes in his hand.
I nod, forcing steel into my spine as he leads me across the yard littered with Fortunates and Unfortunates alike. Children chase each other, their squeals meshing beautifully with the sounds of eager chatter and the gentle tinkling of cutlery. I peer at Kade, who glances at the children as they zip past us. He tenses at their proximity, his lips pursing with impatience.
“You don’t like children?” I wonder aloud and his throat bobs as he swallows.
“I’m working on it,” he simply says with a frown before peering down at me. “I’m sure I’d like our children when the time comes.”
That’s an interesting notion.
I smile, despite the Fortunates still watching me. “I should hope so.”
Kade escorts me to an empty table in the last quadrant of the outdoor dining area. When we sit, curious stares begin to fade as people grow bored of us. I don’t know what they expect. Tension? Drama? Me to grow a third arm? All we want is breakfast. We’re not here to disturb anyone.
To be honest, I thought the ogling Fortunates would be the worst part about breakfast, but they don’t come close to the stomach turning presence of the Unfortunates. They bring fruit and juice. They load our table with toast and cereals, meats, and vegetables. They bring more food than Kade and I can eat in a whole month. More food than I’ve eaten in my entire life…and I’m finally allowed to taste it all if I really want to.
Sadly, I don’t.
I don’t want any of it. I can’t. How can I sit here and eat foods I’ve dreamed about tasting while someone else works on an empty stomach?
Without thought, Kade scoops berries into a small bowl and fills his champagne flute with icy water. I watch as the glass fogs and he lifts it to his full lips. The rim presses against his lower lip and he pauses. Our eyes lock. He lowers the glass.
“Eat.”
I shake my head and hug myself, dropping my elbows against the table. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“The people that served you this beautiful banquet had a disgusting, stale porridge for breakfast.”
“What do you want me to do?” he demands in a hushed whisper. “My hands are tied for the moment.”
I drop my stare to the table, willing my stomach not to shoot bile up my throat. Kade picks at food a
nd fills a plate. He manoeuvres his arms and hands with irritation as if he’s choosing food for a fussy toddler. Exhaling, he slides the plate in front of me. There are slices of fruit and squares of pale cheese scattered around two small, thin pancakes.
“You’ll like these. Squeeze the lemon over your sugar covered pancakes, but be meagre with it. It’s sour.”
My stomach turns. “Kade…”
His exasperated expression smooths out, his eyebrows curving in surrender. “I’d appreciate it if you ate something. Please.”
His pleading eyes are hard to ignore. Placing my hands on either side of my plate, I exhale through my nose. I finally have all of this food at my fingertips and I don’t even want to taste it?
“Anna. It’s good to see you.” I leap out of my chair at the sound of John Milano’s voice and whirl on my heel.
He approaches our table from behind, wearing a plain black suit with matching leather shoes. My greeting is trapped in my throat. What do I say to him? How do I apologise for what happened to Kathryn? I thread my fingers together behind my back and glance at Kade, who sighs and pushes himself out of his chair, taking charge of the interaction.
I can’t talk to John. The words refuse to climb my throat.
“John.” Kade extends his hand. “Good morning.”
They shake hands and John peers out over the field, his light eyes scanning everything. He’s happier than I thought he’d be and he has definitely put some effort into his appearance. Thirteen and I didn’t really get along, but I was a mess after her death. My heart aches as my churning stomach contracts. Images of her beaten and broken, lying at Vince’s feet, assault my mind. That poor, beautiful girl. It should have been me.
“It is particularly serene this morning, isn’t it? It’s nice to finally get some fresh air.” John sighs, inhaling deeply. “I haven’t felt it in my lungs since Kathryn’s death.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kade tells him, his voice even and, dare I say, compassionate.
“Thank you. It has been particularly hard on the children, but it’s for the greater good.”
I frown. The greater good? John turns his kind eyes on me and my frown dissipates. There’s something in his stare…something knowing. He smooths the palm of his hand over his slicked hair.
“That’s a lovely dress,” he says, leaning forward. “Kathryn had a similar one except hers came with a secret ribbon.”
My heart stutters. “Excuse me?”
“A secret ribbon,” he repeats with a confident nod of his head.
The Secret Ribbon. Surely he’s not referring to Oliver’s code name for our rebellion?
“You’re—”
“I hope you received the gift I sent this morning,” Kade cuts in, pinning us both with a warning glare.
I swallow hard and glance over my shoulder at the table of Fortunates behind us. They sip at their orange juice and watch us excitedly. Right. Now isn’t the place to discuss such a sensitive topic.
“Yes, we did. Thank you. We’ve reached our Unfortunate quota for the month so Amir will be a great help. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the replacement so soon.”
“You never would have received it if it was left up to my brother, but I’m a man who pays his debts.”
John’s lips curve with a sad smile. “April’s death isn’t your debt to carry and neither is Kyle’s, so your bag of jewels will be returned to your house immediately.”
“I’m sorry,” I slip in. “Kyle? April?”
I’ve never heard these names before. A thin sheen of sweat bubbles along John’s forehead and he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You met Kyle when Vince ordered you to gun him down in my foyer and April…” He retrieves a handkerchief and pats his forehead. “April was our youngest kitchenhand. She died in the early hours of the morning after succumbing to injuries left by Master Vince.”
A sinister chuckle chills my blood as it slices through the air and kisses my skin. Goosebumps spring along my collarbone and that’s when I feel cool fingertips sweep against my shoulder. I shudder and pull away as Vince slides up next to me. He poisons the air, leaving a bad taste at the back of my throat.
“April? Yes. She was a clumsy little thing. Truth be told, I barely touched her.”
I peer sideways at him. I used to think Kade was terrifying, but he has nothing on his brother. They look alike, but Kaden is infinitely more beautiful. Though Kaden spends most of his day frowning, there is life to him. There’s an unfathomable magnificence that makes my heart ache.
Kade is the lion his family boasts to be, but Vince, well, he’s a hyena.
“What’s the matter, Anna? You look ill.”
I turn my head to Kade, whose angry eyes burn holes through his little brother before flicking to me. Can we go?
He nods his head at my silent question and proceeds around the table, buttoning his jacket. With Vince next to me, Kade feels like he’s a world away. Each step doesn’t seem to bring him close enough, fast enough.
Vince’s scent swirls around me as a gentle breeze blows. The bourbon in the air is thick, tainted by the smell of smoke.
“It was nice to see you, John,” Kade says, closing the distance between us. “Unfortunately, we can’t stay.”
He slides his hand around my bicep and gently tugs me along with him, pulling me out of his brother’s sickening aura. Away from Vince I can breathe without worrying that the air is poisoning my lungs and infecting my bloodstream.
“You can’t hide in your room forever.” Vince snickers, turning around.
Is that what he thinks I do in there? He thinks I hide? I clench my teeth as irritation prickles up my spine and warms my head.
“What is your problem?” I hiss, shrugging out of Kade’s grip. “Why do you insist on ruining my life?”
Vincent’s dead eyes glimmer with excitement. Finally. I’ve given him the reaction he wanted. I feel stupid for caving. I feel stupid for letting him burrow under my skin, but what happens when you fill a balloon with too much air?
“Ruining your life? Baby,” he teases, catching my chin between thumb and index finger. I slap his hand out of the way. “I haven’t even started.”
“I’ve done nothing to you,” I point out, ignoring the sound of Kade snapping my name between his angry teeth.
“Some things aren’t about you, Unfortunate,” he answers quietly, glancing over my head. “Some of us have other scores to settle.”
“If you have a problem with your brother, leave me out of it.” I swallow my pride. “Vince…please.”
“Ooh.” A cruel smirk twitches at the corners of his lips. “Say that last bit again.”
I scowl at him. He’s not taking me seriously. Why would he? Why would a single, desperate plea deter his sick mind from ruining everything Kade and I have achieved? I just want him to stop.
“If you’re going to kill me, kill me,” I say, slumping my shoulders. “Stop dragging it on. I’m tired.”
He leans in. “Maybe I’m waiting for the perfect moment—a moment when your death will have the biggest impact.” He snatches my hand and sneers down at the ring Kade gave me. His oily, black irises bubble with hatred and disgust. “Your wedding day, perhaps. Or the day you birth your first child. Who knows?”
A cracking shout startles me and I snap my hand back in time as Kade slams into Vince and they crash to the ground. My heart spears into my throat as they fumble. Cursing, John Milano steps in, grabbing Kaden by the shoulders. John rips Kade off of a laughing Vince, who spits blood into the grass. Raking my fingers through my hair, I look over my shoulder. The field is quiet.
Dead quiet.
Despite the crowd of people, not a single sound is made. They watch us, their eyes wide and excited—some fearful. At least they got the drama they wanted.
Pushing himself to his feet, Kade rubs his fist and smooths the palms of his hands over his jacket. Vince massages his jaw and chuckles to himself, exposing bloody tee
th.
“You’re going to regret this moment,” he warns us, sneering at Kade and me. “Until my death, not a day will pass that you don’t glance over your shoulder in fear of me. I swear it.”
Whirling on his heel, Kade scoops me up in his arms and throws me over his shoulder. My head spins and I grunt, digging my elbow into the nape of his neck.
“You’re going to carry me over your shoulder? Really?” I hiss, struggling against him. “Kade, people are watching.”
He doesn’t utter a word. Naturally. When we reach the back steps, I stop fighting him and let him carry me through the house. Unfortunates avoid us, their eyes cast down and away from the beast that storms by, his powerful steps thundering along the ground.
Kade doesn’t put me down until I’m safely in my room. I barely turn around before he demands I “stay here and lock the door.”
I place my hands on my hips. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
I jump as he slams the door and I wait…I don’t know what for. I guess I wait for him to return.
He doesn’t.
Huffing, I storm across my room to the window by the bar. Sure enough, Kade stalks from my house in the direction of his. What’s he up to? I pace my room. Four steps in one direction, three in the other. I should follow him. I shudder at the idea. On second thought, I never want to step foot inside the Sario house ever again.
Surprisingly, my stomach groans with hunger, and I hate that I didn’t eat when Kade told me to. I should have…I should have tasted the pancakes. Sighing, I drop against a white stool by the bar and the colourful beverages on the floating shelves above catch my attention.
Browns. Golds. Reds. Blues.
The drinks come in small and big bottles, murky or as clear as water. Surely one or two of these will quell my hunger until Kade comes back? I reach for the clear bottle on the left and pull it down. Freeing one of the glasses from the rack on the left, I fill it up and lift it to my nose.
I inhale, then flinch away as a strange, potent smell burns my nostrils. I pinch my nostrils together and squeeze, trying to scratch the itch.