I push off the bed and thread my fingers so Thirteen doesn’t see my trembling hands. I’ll never get used to this… being summoned at any time of the day for god knows what. My blue dress brushes against my knees, causing goosebumps to erupt. On my chest, I can still see the stains from Kade’s berries. Thirteen eyes my dress and then glances down at her worn, white tunic. My wardrobe is filled with varying colours. Master Kade wants me to always look fresh and untouchable, like a Fortunate without the title or the privileges. I hate wearing the dress. I see the way the other Unfortunates look at me. They avoid me. They even go out of their way to create work for themselves to get out of a conversation with me. I’m used to it, I suppose. The only real friend I have here is Portia, but she runs the kitchen and I hardly see her.
My bare feet press against the cool stone floor as I follow Thirteen towards the stairs. She’s not limping as much as she was yesterday and it fills me with relief. Hopefully, Vince is done with her. When we reach the top of the stairs, Thirteen hesitates, glancing cautiously at Vince’s door at the end of the hallway. She whips around on her heel and speeds down the steps, going as fast as she can to avoid Vince. I freeze when I see Vince smirk and lean against the railing at the bottom. I want to alert her, but she’s moving too quickly to see him, keeping her eyes on her tiny cloth shoes as she patters down the stair case. When she reaches the bottom, he steps in front of her and she slams right into his tall, hard body. My heart races for her. It threatens to smash through my ribcage as she bounces back, tripping over the bottom step and landing awkwardly on her ass. Vince crouches low, letting his predatory stare flick to mine briefly. He speaks in a low tone and I can’t hear it from where I’m standing. A few second later, Vince proceeds up the stairs and Thirteen pulls herself to her feet. My blood runs cold as she hugs herself and proceeds back up the stairs. No… she keeps her stare on her feet again, not glancing up for anybody. I should disappear into Kade’s room, I know I should. I should mind my own business, but I don’t. I stand still and watch the terrifying events unfold in front of me.
“Evening,” Vince says as he passes me. His dark eyes flare and his lips curl into a cruel smile that turns my stomach.
“Good evening, Master Vince,” I reply, trying my hardest not to glare at him.
I relax minutely as he ventures closer to his room. As Thirteen walks by, trembling hard, I snatch her wrist. “Thirteen, you don’t have to do this.”
She snatches her hand back and bares her teeth. “What do you expect me to do?” she snaps in a harsh whisper. “Fight him? Run?” Tears fall over the rim of her big, blue eyes. “Leave me alone.”
I watch them, painfully raking my teeth over my bottom lip until they shut themselves in Vince’s room. Feeling dejected, I drag myself to Master Kade’s door and knock. I wait roughly eight seconds and finally open it. Kade is sitting at his desk, typing away on his large glass screen.
“Come in and shut the door,” he orders, without looking up.
I do as I’m told.
“Lock it.”
I move my hands towards the lock and then I hesitate. “Lock it?”
His black irises flick onto me from underneath his brow. The warning in them is clear. I don’t want to fight him, not today. I lock the door. As it clicks, he pushes off his chair and begins rolling up the sleeves of his light blue button up shirt. His thick, strong forearms are revealed the higher he folds the fabric and the skin on his arms is a nice tan. Overtly, he looks at my chest as he steps closer. His steps are calculated, I can feel it. He has something planned… something I’m not sure I’m going to be comfortable with.
“Couldn’t get it off?” he asks. I know he’s talking about his name on my chest.
Heat creeps into my cheeks and Kade’s full lips twitch at the sight of them. “No, sir.”
“There’s a bowl in the bathroom. Fill it with warm water and soap, and bring it back to me.”
With a nod of my head, I do what I’m told. When I return, Kade is sitting on one of the large, mahogany couches, twirling a piece of fabric around his finger.
“Sit,” he says, tapping a long, thick index finger on his knee.
I swallow hard, but I don’t protest him. Sitting on him beats sitting on coal locked in a fireplace. Holding the bowl tightly in my hands, I lower myself onto Kade’s hard lap. I shuffle, without spilling the water, until his legs are firmly between mine and my knees dig into the back of the couch. He holds my weigh on his legs without strain. I slowly expel a breath of air in an attempt to calm my racing heart as Kade takes the bowl from me and sits it on the neighbouring cushion. I watch, cautiously, as he dips the cloth into the clear water.