The Fortunates (Unfortunate #2) - Skyla Madi Page 0,10

into his heart. As her tunic fell to the floor, so did her stare. Out of respect for her, he shifted his own gaze to the gold-trimmed tiles behind her head. He wanted to look. He wanted to take her in his arms and show her just how much he missed her, but it wasn’t right. She needed to recover…and she needed to fall back in love with him again. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nine slipped by him, her arm brushing his as she lifted a leg and eased it into the bath. She hissed when the water hit her toes and her hand shot out, gripping Kade’s forearm. Turning, he took her hand in his and hesitated slightly before pressing the other hand on the small of her back. He swallowed hard as she tensed under the palm of his hand, but a short eternity later, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Thank you.”

Kade held on to her, helping her lower herself into the water, and even as the water began to soak through his shirt, he didn’t let her go until she gripped the edge of the bath, holding herself upright.

“I’ll send for Portia to wash you,” he stated as he removed his hands and straightened up.

Kade turned on his heel and stepped toward the door.

“Kaden…”

The sound of his full name stopped him in his tracks. There was a time when it used to provoke rage in him, made him think of things he tried to forget, but now he saw it as her thing. Something no one else could get away with. He turned to face her. In her hand, dripping over the edge of the bath and onto the dark, purple bath mat, she held a pale green sponge.

“Can you do it?” she asked, a compassionate, yet sad, smile slightly tugging at the corner of her lips. “If you don’t mind.”

He didn’t mind. Without a word, he stepped toward the bath and knelt down, taking the sponge firmly in his hand. It dripped soap and water onto his pants, but it didn’t matter.

She shut her eyes as he pressed the sponge to her skin. The bath continued to fill, its loud stream filling the room with the sound of gushing water.

He pressed the sponge to her back, and as he glided its surface along her skin, she closed her eyes. A soft sound escaped her and Kade hesitated, unsure if the noise was one of pain or pleasure.

“Keep going,” she whispered, her eyes remaining closed. “I’m okay.”

So he kept going. He circled the sponge over and over, washing away the dirt and filth. Circle by circle her milky white skin revealed itself and, twenty minutes later, the majority of her body was clean. Now that she was clean, Kade could see various abrasions and bruises. The sight of them sent tendrils of anger through his chest, igniting his blood, but for the moment, he had to swallow his possessiveness and his demand for answers.

Kade had turned the bath off ten minutes ago and he regretted it with every painfully deafening second that passed. As he slipped the sponge from her hip to her breast, he shifted his stare to the edge of the bath. Occasionally, the hot water lapped at the edges and spilled over, flooding the tiles beneath his knees and soaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Did you see her?” Nine whispered, forcing his eyes from the edge of the bath to her face.

Her glassy, violet stare settled on the murky bathwater.

“Yes,” he whispered, running the heavy, soapy sponge over her breast. “I saw her.”

“She’s dead?”

Kade shifted uncomfortably. Nine didn’t see the fatal damage done to Kathryn’s skull. If she did, she wouldn’t have asked.

He nodded his head. “She’s dead.”

Chapter Five

Nine

My mother died.

And I don’t feel the way I should. Tears don’t fall and rage doesn’t ignite. I feel numb, like an imposter in a body that doesn’t belong to me.

I swirl my hands around in the dirty water as Kade slides the soapless sponge along my collarbone. My eyelids burn and threaten to shut. I can feel the sweet bliss of sleep hovering over me, just waiting for the chance to crash down upon me at any second. Startling me, Kade drops the sponge in the water and pushes himself to his feet. I wait patiently, one long blink away from drowning, and, eventually, he returns with a white towel and a large men’s tee. I glance over my shoulder