The Unfortunates(12)

“Virgin?”

I open my mouth to speak, but Kade cuts me off. “Those questions and the information they draw are best reserved for her owner.”

“Of course, sorry.” Henry’s beady eyes survey me for a few minutes longer before he finally turns back to Kade. “I don’t suppose you’re going to put her in the Black House?”

I tense. Black House?

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s a shame… you could make a lot of money off of her.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. I hate being talked about like I’m not here. “She seems so… alive, doesn’t she? I know a lot of people that would pay top dollar for her.”

Kade slams back the rest of his drink and I lift my eyes long enough to see his fingers whiten around the glass. “She’s not for casual use outside of my house.”

Henry chuckles a deep, throaty chuckle. “You lucky son of a bitch.”

I drop my eyes in fear of Kade seeing me cringe. The reaction I’ve received since my arrival is off-putting and I worry what’ll happen to me if Master Kade leaves my side for a second. I hate that I, suddenly, never want Kade to leave my side.

“More whiskey,” Kade demands, extending his cup to me.

With a nod, I take the cup and stroll away. As I walk, I feel Henry’s seedy gaze stick to me like sweat on a hot summer’s night. I don’t like him… not one little bit.

I detour off the path and press the bottoms of my feet against the grass. It welcomes my feet like fluffy clouds and I fight the urge to reach down and touch the blades with my fingers. Whiskey. I remind myself, Get the Whiskey and touch the grass later. I stroll into the mansion, turn left down a narrow corridor, and then right into a kitchen. Unfortunates work hard, cooking food and filling drinks. As I reach the door frame, three Unfortunates dressed in elegant white tunics push past, carrying large trays of drinks. I step into the chaotic kitchen and set Master Kade’s empty glass down on the bench. The entire bench seems dedicated to various drinks and it occurs to me that I don’t know what Whiskey is… let alone what it looks like.

“Need help?” a womanly voice asks.

I glance over my shoulder at another Unfortunate. She pulls her frizzy hair up into a messy bun and saunters closer. I notice her tunic is worn, like she’s been wearing it for years.

“Master Kade…” I mutter, turning back to the dizzying variation of bottles. “I don’t suppose you know which one of these he drinks?”

She reaches across and plucks a gold and black bottle from the centre of the counter. “Here’s a tip, Master Kade’s drink matches his personality, cold and rough.” She hums a catchy tune. “Black and gold for callous and cold.” She chuckles to herself. “Linking things to Fortunates with rhymes usually helps me keep on top of things.”

“You think Kade is callous and cold?”

The colour drains from the woman’s face. “No! Absolutely not. You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

As if I’d ever put one of my own in harm’s way. I flash her the palms of my hands. “No, no. I would never.”

“Oh.” Her tiny frame relaxes as she sighs. “You had me worried for a second.” She reaches for the glass and knocks over the bottle of whiskey, spilling it on the counter. I step back to avoid getting the strong smelling liquid on my dress as she dives for it, setting it back upright before its entire contents are lost.

“Go down the hall and fetch some towels. I’ll pour his drink while you’re gone.”

I whirl on my heel and flee the kitchen. I walk quickly, worried I’ve already taken too long to get his drink. I hope he isn’t mad.

I approach the only cupboard in the hall and yank it open. It’s filled with towels, towels and more towels. All are the same creamy colour, so I grab a handful and slam the doors behind me. I manage to take one step before a strange moaning draws my attention. I still and my fingers instinctively tighten around the fabrics.

“Yes, oh, please,” a feminine voice sighs.

A very distinct male groan reverberates around my skull, followed closely by a crude command. “Spread your legs wider. Fuck yes, just like that.”

My curiosity piques again and I find myself stepping closer to the sound. Curiosity is bad. Curiosity is wrong. It’s going to get you killed!

It seems to be filtering from the crack in the door across from the towel cupboard. I get closer and closer until I’m right at the door. I peer through the crack. My vision is bombarded with a female’s flushed cheeks, her face twisted into an expression of pure pleasure. She’s facedown on the bed, her ass sticking up for all to see. My gaze travels down her body, over her slim hips and creamy skin to her backside. The skin covering that area is red, like it’s been slapped a hundred times. I watch as large, manly hands grip her flesh, forcing her to move harder and faster onto him. The girl’s mouth parts as quick pants of air escape her and my own breath picks up as she grips the sheets until her knuckles turn white. Between my legs, I feel an unfamiliar tingle and I squeeze my thighs shut. This is wrong, I tell myself, but I don’t dare look away. I couldn’t, even if I tried. I look at the man, the cause of her pleasure, and to my astonishment he’s still fully dressed, suit jacket and all. He looks familiar but I can’t pinpoint it. The sound of the female’s moan forces my attention from the clothed man back to her.