The Unfortunates(7)
“She’s a gift. You have to have her, and since I’m hosting the Selection in the backyard, you might as well participate.” With one sly, overt look at the Unfortunate, he turned to leave. “Oh, by the way,” he added, glancing over his shoulder at Kade. “Her name is Nine.”
∞ Nine ∞
Fortunates are the reason for my nightmares—the scariest things I can think of. Screw ghosts and demons, they have nothing on the people that run our society. Unfortunately, my nightmares don’t disappear when I wake. They seep over into my reality, crushing any positive emotion in their wake. As sick as it sounds, Fortunates also star in my pleasant dreams too, the naughty ones. My body could never deny that there’s a certain beauty in the power they possess and the control they demand… in my dreams I take the control from them, making them feel as powerless as I do, and the man sitting in front of me, ignoring me like the Unfortunate that I am, reminds me of every single naughty dream I’ve ever had. I swallow. I can do this.
I can’t believe how healthy he looks—glowing olive skin and healthy dark hair—oh my. In the Unfortunate camp, everyone is skinny, but him… I’ve never seen someone so in shape. I keep my head angled down as he signs papers on his desk, but I let my eyes flicker to his frame. He has wide, broad shoulders and the fabric of his formal button up shirt exposes the clothed rises and depressions of his torso muscles. The rest of his body is hidden behind the huge table, so my gaze takes a detour, roaming up his strong neck and onto his countenance. He has a well-structured face, not a trace of anything that would suggest he’s malnourished. I’ve never seen anyone so alluring. In my mind, I pictured my master to be fat and old… everything Master Kade isn’t. He’s strong and beautiful… which also makes him absolutely terrifying. His intense, volcanic glass irises flick to me and I instantly drop my stare. Shit. My stomach rolls and threatens to upturn what little sludge I ate this morning. I shouldn’t have looked at him, not without his permission, but I couldn’t help myself.
My palms begin to sweat and I want to rub them over my dress, but I keep them poised behind my back in fear of my own life. I’ve yet to learn his temperament. My heart kicks in rapid pulses, threatening to shake me to my foundations as I feel his dark eyes rake me in a way that makes my throat run dry. He drops a pen and the sound of it crashing to the desk sends a jolt of fear through me. Oh, no.
Master Kade pushes out from behind the desk and I hear his large, heavy footsteps close the distance between us. Involuntarily, my muscles tense and I flex my fingers, bracing for his next move. This is it, my first punishment for looking when I shouldn’t have. How could I have been so stupid? A long silence passes and I watch his nice leather shoes until he finally speaks.
“Nine,” he states, testing my name on the tip of his tongue.
I look up at him, trying my hardest to fight back the anxiety that has my chest feeling like it’s ready to explode. Slowly, he reaches for me and flicks my hair over my shoulder before running his hands over my skin. My body jolts to fearful attention at the feel of his smooth skin on mine. I hate it. He pokes and prods me, touching and gripping parts of me that have remained untouched by any other hands besides my own. I’m shaken with a gasp as he turns my back to him. ‘An Unfortunate must never have their back to their Fortunate.’ I attempt to turn around, but his hands grip my shoulders, preventing me from moving.
“Stay,” he demands, dropping his hands to my wrists and pulling my own hands apart, forcing them to rest idly at my sides.
I comply as the tips of his fingers run down my spine before he grasps my hips and squeezes briefly. I feel his fingers twitch in hesitation, before his hands slide over my backside and down the back of my thighs.
“Do you eat?” he inquires, his voice husky and gruff.
I gulp, trembling at the hands that glide up my calves and onto my inner thighs. “Yes, sir.”
“When?”
“Once in the morning and once before bed.”
The food we’re given as Unfortunates is the same thing it’s always been since day one, a small bowl of weird grey porridge, a slice of stale bread and a cup of water. I’ve never had the pleasure of tasting something different—something of varying colours.
He steps away and I turn around, clasping my hands behind my back again. He inches forward, this time with purpose. I keep my body steady as he reaches out and pulls at the knot on the shoulder of my dress. My stomach drops into my intestines as my dress falls from my body and pools in a mess of fabric at my feet. Instinctively, I reach up to cover my breasts but he abruptly smacks my hands away, making the surface of the back of my hand prickle.