The Fortunates (Unfortunates #2) (8 page)

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.

“We were friends once. Lovers too…” she muttered.

“We were never lov—”

“We had sex,” she snapped, pinning him with a nasty glare. “Frequently. I’d say that qualifies.”

Maybe it did qualify. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that it was a thing of the past, where it would remain.

“I asked you to leave.”

Elizabeth turned toward the door and stomped her feet. “Suit yourself. Your brother has always been the easier one to talk to anyway.”

Kade opened his mouth, but Elizabeth slammed the door behind her, causing the assorted bronze framed pictures to tremble against the wall. Kade exhaled.

Alone at last.

Free to drink himself into a dreamless slumber. No politics. No relationships. Nothing to remind him of the tribulations he faced when the sun was up.

Peace.

Besides the whiskey, that was all he could stomach.

Chapter Nine

Nine

They closed the door, leaving me alone in the monstrous room—a room they referred to as
mine
.

This can’t be mine.

I don’t want it to be mine.

I shiver and Kade’s shirt hums against my skin. I cling to it, hugging myself until the shirt tightens around my back. It’s the only familiar thing I have here.

I move cautiously over the cool tiles. The room isn’t like Kaden’s at all. His was regal, adorned with deep reds, gold trimmings, and varnished mahogany woods, but this room is white with occasional splashes of black. Bright, white lights reflect off most surfaces and I see only metal, no wood. It’s nothing like Kade’s room, nothing like the style I’ve grown accustomed to.

I don’t know why I expected this room to be exactly like his…

I glance over the white leather couches and fluffy black cushions. Is that for me too? I look at the tall black bookcases filled with thick books. Are those? Everything is pristine and elegant. What if I break something? Will I be punished? Would I have to pay for it? If so, how do I get money? The ball of anxiety in my chest expands and presses against my ribs. I’m not cut out for this. I wasn’t born for this life. I stagger backwards until my back slams into the door. Tears well in my eyes. It’s too much. I can’t stay here.

I whirl on my heel and rip the door open. For the briefest moment, I hesitate. I shouldn’t be walking through the house at such a late hour…but then again, who will stop me? I’m a Fortunate now, right?

I zip from the room with a stumble and run down the hall. At the end, my ankle threatens to give away as I stop abruptly and turn left toward the spiralling staircase. I grip the rail in my hand, clenching tightly as I descend the marble steps. They’re cold and soothing on the bottom of my sore feet and make a slight slapping noise every time my feet connect. My heart sinks and I stifle a yelp as I miss the last step and body slams into the hard foyer tiles with a loud slap. Wind is knocked from my lungs and they burn as I roll onto my back, gasping for air. My fall ignites the pain in the rest of my body, bringing back the ache of my bones and the thump in my head. Sadly, it calms me. Pain is familiar. Pain is routine.

Groaning, I turn my body and push myself onto my hands and knees and sit back on my ankles. I inhale and glance around. The lights in the house are dim, allowing all of its dwellers to sleep without disturbance. How much noise am I making? What if someone comes out of their room?

Groaning, I force myself to my feet, clenching my ribs. I jog to the large, white doors and stop. My stare follows the frightening and exquisitely detailed carvings of the wolves on the back of each door.

Milano’s house animal is the wolf.

“What are you doing?”

I startle at the smooth male voice behind me and whip around to face him. I barely manage a glance at his face before I instinctively drop my stare to the white tiles at my feet.

“You’re Anna? The child my aunt had before she met my uncle?”

Anna.
Not Nine.

A
Fortunate
. Not an Unfortunate.

He’s my cousin? I never saw him come down to the cells to see Kathryn. I drag my gaze up his long legs, slim hips, and lean torso. Caught in the collar of his white button up shirt is a decaying leaf, and staining his skin three centimetres above it is a small love bite. He sways where he stands, his dark eyes heavy with sleep…or intoxication. I can’t tell.

“Yes,” I state, clearing my throat.

“I’m Oliver.”

I force my spine straight and square my shoulders. I can’t look afraid. I can’t expose my fear because he’ll see it. My cousin pushes his hand through his short blond hair. He can’t be much older than me…twenty, maybe.

“You’re prettier than I thought you’d be.”

I press my lips together.

“And disgustingly thin,” he adds for good measure.

I don’t know where he’s been for the past few months but I haven’t exactly been living a healthy lifestyle. In the cells I got one meal a day. A handful of broth in a bowl smaller than the palm of my hand and a chunk of stale bread. He should try maintaining a healthy body on such little food. I hug myself harder.

“You running away?”

“I was just…I don’t like…” I shake my head and moisten my lips. “I’m not familiar with this house.”

“Ah.” Oliver steps closer, slipping into a shadow. “Kaden Sario. That’s where you’re going?”

He takes another step and, without thought, I inch back. My body is tired, my mind exhausted; I can’t bring myself to fight another second.

But I will run.

There’s no shame in running when you know you can’t win.

“You can relax,” Oliver states, his expression amused as he turns toward the staircase. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I swallow, tilting my head on the slightest angle. “You accept me?”

“Accept you? No. That would be social suicide.” He climbs the staircase, his hand gripping the bannister. “But attacking you wouldn’t be right. She wasn’t just my aunt. She was your mother too.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have a mother—or a family.”

“You do now.” Oliver pauses with a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t hang around those Sarios too long. The last thing you want is to become like them.”

Frowning, I stare after him until long after he’s gone. What did he mean by that? Why don’t I want to be like Kade? Sure, he’s a little aggressive and rough around the edges, but he’s not a bad person—or at least, he tries not to be. Who else do I have in this world?

I glance down at the shirt I’m wearing. Kade’s shirt. He offers comfort when everyone else refuses. To turn my back on him isn’t fair.

“Oh, and Anna?”

I snap my head up to the voice above me. Oliver hangs his head over the bannister. “If anyone asks, you never saw me tonight, all right?”

I frown. Why? What’s he hiding? I bet it has something to do with the leaf stuck to his collar and the love bite on his neck. Was he out seeing someone he wasn’t supposed to be?

I nod. “All right.”

And he disappears.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I blow out an exhale and step away from the door. Maybe it’s not so bad here? Maybe I can adjust. Oliver doesn’t seem so bad. I mean, it could be worse. I could’ve ended up with a relative like Vince. I shudder at the thought. Though incestuous sex is against the law, I can’t imagine it stopping someone with the same mentality as Vincent Sario.

I inhale and my thought train slows its engine.
Here is safe. This is your new home. It will be difficult. It will be your biggest challenge, but you are strong and you are adaptable.

I exhale.

I can’t go back to Kade. I can’t run to him every time something terrifies me. The Sario mansion isn’t where my life is anymore and Kade has no hold over me. Taking back everything I said to Kade and begging for him to take me in will render the words I used against him meaningless and he won’t take me seriously. If I’m going to survive as a Fortunate, I need to be taken seriously…or they will crush me.

A false bravado is better than an exposed soul.

Confidence, not vulnerability, is key for my survival.

Somehow, I need to become a force to be reckoned with, not a juicy gossip story that fades into nothing. Every time a Fortunate sees me, I want them to be reminded of how I rose from the ashes and changed the world. I want Unfortunates to see me as a girl who turned nothing into everything. I’ve always said I had a purpose and it was bigger than being a whore to some spoiled Fortunate.

This could be it.

This could be my chance to do some good, to heal a sick world.

I amble from the front doors and climb the staircase. Unease shakes up my empty stomach, but I ignore it. Staying here…staying in my
home
is what’s best for me. It’s time to stand on my own two feet and fight for my second chance at life. I need to prove to whoever is listening that I am worth it. I’ve come this far. I can’t stop now.

I grip the door handle to my room and turn it. The door creaks open and bright light spills out.

“Don’t be ashamed to feel afraid,” Oliver’s voice whispers beside me, making me jump. “Fear keeps us from making stupid decisions.”

I don’t bother turning my head to face him. What will I do with it all?

“Entering this room…accepting this life…is that a stupid decision?” I ask, swallowing hard.

“What other choice do you have?”

My heart constricts in my chest as tears well in my eyes. “Being a Fortunate means I have to hurt people.”

“You can’t win your war without shedding a little blood.”

Flinching, I turn my head to look at him. “My war?”

“People like us don’t go down without a fight, Nine. A war is inevitable. I advise you to choose your soldiers wisely.”

People like us? What does that mean?

“Are you saying that, if there was a war, you’d fight on my side?”

Oliver shakes his head. “I’d fight on humanity’s side.”

Then it clicks. The love bite, the need for war, the not so subtle push to make me his scapegoat in a battle to save humanity. Oliver is in love with someone he shouldn’t be.

“She’s an Unfortunate. Isn’t she?”

He leans against the wall and looks away from me. “You think you and Kaden Sario are the only ones who have to face such prejudicial trials?” He shakes his head. “At your party tomorrow, take a look around. You’re bound to see others who are being suffocated by this society’s laws.”

I frown. “At my party tomorrow?”

Oliver pushes off the wall. “Vincent Sario is throwing you a welcome home party here tomorrow evening.”

I grimace. Why would Vince throw me a party? I don’t trust it. Something is wrong.

“I don’t want one—especially one thrown by the likes of him.”

“You don’t get a choice,” he states, walking away and leaving me alone for the third time.

I slip inside my room and close my door. I locate the light switch on the wall to the right of the door and switch out the lights. I don’t want to waste any more time looking at the furniture and the objects. They’ll only depress me further.

I walk slowly, sliding one foot in front of the other with my arms outstretched, searching the far left of the room for the bed. Unexpectedly, a hard thump sends pain shooting through my toe as it slams into a small, tile step. I stumble forward with a squeak and squeeze my eyes shut, expecting to eat the floor at my feet, but I manage to latch on to the bed quilt and save myself. With my heart thrumming in my ears, I pull myself up and onto the huge bed. Exhaling, I crawl to the top and pull back the sheets. As I push myself underneath the blankets, the weight of the problems on my shoulders are almost too dense to carry. It’s as though I haven’t slept in weeks when in reality, I slept all day today. I rest my head against my pillow.

Parties.

Wars.

Surviving.

What am I going to do?