mocking her. Kade promised himself that when the time came—and it would come—he’d remove Vince’s feet first.
Vince’s slender, cruel fingers buried themselves in Nine’s tangled auburn hair and yanked her head back. Kade clenched the arms on his chair until his bones threatened to snap under the pressure.
Breathe.
“And this one,” Vince announced, gripping her jaw with his free hand. “Unfortunate number nine. A gift from my father to my brother on his birthday.”
Kade felt the curious gazes of Fortunates and Unfortunates alike rest on him. It took every fibre in his being to keep an indifferent composure even though fire was burning underneath his skin.
“Kade caught her trying to escape. She made it all the way to the lake before he stopped her at gunpoint. Right, Kaden?”
Kade swallowed. “Right.”
Soyer stepped toward Vince, pulling a thick chain from the pocket of his black cargos. Vince surveyed and weighed the chain in his hand before lifting his soulless, black stare to Kade’s.
“So it’s only fair her captor chains her to the post.”
Inhaling through his nose, Kade clenched his jaw. He couldn’t resist Vince’s offer—not in front of so many people—and Vince knew it.
With a nod of his head, Kade pushed himself up off the chairs and straightened the crisp, black jacket that hugged his torso. Against his back he felt the cool handle of his handgun and his anxiety eased. Being closer to Nine meant he had more of a chance to save her in the event Kathryn lied about her being born a Fortunate. He had six bullets loaded into his gun. It wasn’t enough to kill everyone, but he was going to try if necessary.
The field was eerily quiet. Freshly mowed grass cracked under his shoes and dark, heavy clouds formed in the distance with the promise of good rain, something they desperately needed. An odd feeling swirled in his stomach. Every time he closed his eyes these past three weeks he saw this exact moment. It was like déjà vu, only this time, when the gun rang out he wouldn’t wake up in a pool of his own sweat.
Kade stomped up the wooden steps and onto the stage. Keeping his eyes on Vince, he reached out for the chain. Vince saw Kade chaining Nine to the post as some kind of punishment, but it was quite the opposite. It was an opportunity. A blessing. Allowing him an extra second in her presence was a gift unlike any other.
Kade weighed the chain in his hand as he approached Nine. It was dense and sharp in places, too rough for her soft skin. Swallowing again, Kade brought himself to a stop in front of her. Nine’s tiny body trembled, her knees struggling to hold her own weight. Her grey tunic was torn in places and darkened with dirt. He’d sent Portia to take fresh clothes and blankets to Nine regularly, but she was turned away every time. None of that mattered to Nine though…because he’d failed her.
Without a word, he circled her and chained her wrists around the post. She didn’t look at him even when he was finished and it hurt him more than any punishment he’d ever received.
He strolled around to face her and others watched, it didn’t matter anymore. Whispers swirled around them, but they lacked the punch they usually did. He hooked his index finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. It didn’t matter to him that she was filthy. It didn’t matter that she had dry, cracked lips or puffy, dark rims around her eyes because underneath all of the dry mud and smears of dirt he saw her. His heart wrenched in his chest when her light violet eyes met his. He feared what he didn’t see. He didn’t see regret or uncertainty. He saw acceptance…and contentment…he saw his heart smashing into sharp shards of never-ending pain.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And still her stare didn’t change.
Chapter Three
Nine
His smell is bliss. It’s all of the things I’ve grown to like about this world rolled into one. In some nonsensical way, it reminds me of lush green grass, clear blue skies, and fluffy white clouds. His smell is happiness—something I’ve only truly felt whenever I’m with him. I told him I loved him not so long ago. It was a declaration I made out of desperation—like he has done just now. His three words roll off my skin, failing to absorb and hit me where they should. What did he say to me when