The Fortunates (Unfortunate #2) - Skyla Madi Page 0,77
his gun in the other. I frown.
“Say I want to decorate her urn with a ribbon,” John says, eyeing them closely. “What colour would you recommend?”
“It’s a secret,” they reply in unison. A secret ribbon. If my heart wasn’t already heavy with sorrow, I’d be elated these two thought our cause was one worth fighting for.
John steps in to finalise the details with the boys and Kade and I say our final goodbyes to our friend. According to John, the boys are to drape a purple Milano wolf cloth over the urn they receive after burning Portia. Apparently, that’ll stop any other moderators from asking questions. John warned them that it was in their best interest to keep tabs on Vincent Sario while they burned the ashes of a single Unfortunate. Unfortunate ashes weren’t allowed to touch an urn. By law, their life dust is sucked up into a large vacuum and deposited into the ocean. Without a word, the moderators gently took Portia from Kaden’s arms and carried her out the door. After twenty minutes of staring into Portia’s cooling blood, John finally manages to convince Kade to get up.
“Take a shower. Get some sleep. Spend tomorrow in bed,” John orders, as I hook my elbow around Kade’s and lead him up the stairs. “In the meantime, I’ll restrict Vince from entering my house.”
∞
We shower together like we always do, only this time he keeps his back to me. I don’t mind it. I wash my body. I wash away all of the grime and blood. My heart aches and the tears don’t stop falling. I can’t grasp the concept of death. Funny, considering I’ve been surrounded by it my entire life. Someone you love is here one minute and gone the next. How? How do people cease to exist? I don’t understand it.
I watch the last bubble of soap as it runs down my ankle and slides off my heel. Finally, I turn around and meet the large expanse of his muscular back. Kade presses his palms against the glass and hangs his head, using the sole of one foot to wash the other. I wrap my arms around his waist and plant a kiss on his spine. Then I leave.
Drying myself, I slip into a short, loose nighty and climb into the large bed. I slide under the blankets and smooth my palms over the surface. It’s all mine. Tonight, the thought doesn’t excite me. I need to take a step back and appreciate just how lucky I truly am. Thirteen, Portia, and every other Unfortunate that has died at the hands of a Fortunate since Freeport’s inception have never slept in a bed like this. They’ve never tasted real food or felt love like I have. I am lucky, truly lucky, to be in a position where I can make a difference. Of course, the “can” is subjective. The chances of this rebellion failing are higher than its success. What if we fail? A whole lot of people are going to die and the Fortunates in power will come down harder on the rest.
Make it better or make it worse. That is my reality. Unfortunately, things have to get worse before they get better. I snuggle down in bed, listening to the sounds of the shower as the water it spews crashes against the tiles. It sounds like rain. I grab a pillow and stuff it under the blanket, hugging it tightly against me. I close my heavy, swollen eyes and sleep finally pulls me under.
Unexpectedly, my eyes flutter open sometime later. Tension dances up my spine and I arch my back to stretch it out. Groaning, I swipe my hand against a wide, clothed back. My heart slams into my throat and smashes my oesophagus. Gasping, I snap my hands to my chest and shoot up in bed.
“Kade?”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“You scared me.” I exhale, relaxing instantly. “What are you doing?”
I shuffle over and reach out to the bedside table. The air is cool, much cooler than I was expecting it to be. As a result, goosebumps bubble along my skin. I touch the base of the metal lamp and it turns on, casting a dim, yellow light around the room.
“I couldn’t do it,” he mutters, looking down at his lap.
I frown and kick back the blankets. “You couldn’t do what?”
I push myself onto my knees and crawl up behind him. I smooth my hands up his back and over his shoulders.