The Fortunates (Unfortunates #2) Read online

  “Have you seen the living conditions of the place you dropped your precious bundle of joy in? There are holes in the walls and rats at your feet. When it’s cold the blankets aren’t enough to keep you warm and no one cares.” I take a breath, fighting hard not to choke on sobs. “You’re crammed into a tiny little room—forced to listen to other children cry themselves to sleep.”

  “Anna—”

  “That’s not my name!” I snap, smacking the back of my head against the wall.

  Pain seeps across my skull and embeds itself in my eye sockets, but I don’t care.

  “Nine…I’m sorry.”

  I press my lips into a firm line. Sorry can’t give me back my life.

  “Yeah. So am I.”

  Chapter Two

  Kade

  He felt sick. As he sat at the table in the very front row, his stomach twisted and clenched, threatening to expel the slice of toast he ate for breakfast. It’s a miracle he was even capable of keeping the buttered carb down as long as he had. Since Nine was taken and locked up, he hadn’t been able to swallow a single thing besides water. Truth be told, Kade was exhausted. Every day he fought for her freedom, but it just wasn’t enough. The harder he pushed, the harder Vince and everyone else pushed back. They didn’t want to see an Unfortunate rise from the ashes. They didn’t want an Unfortunate to become one of them. They were intimidated by her and what she stood for. Or at least most of them were. Kade knew Vince only wanted to see him suffer, but he’d do more than suffer. Without Nine, he would die.

  Kade understood that the best thing for Nine would be for the four families to sentence her to death. Only in death was she safe from them…safe from him. Kade knew very well that making her a Fortunate was like pushing a newborn lamb into a den full of starved lions. Naturally, a situation like that would never bode well for the little lamb.

  Trumpets sounded off in the distance and Kade clenched the plastic armrests of his chair. He knew with absolute certainty that it wasn’t a dream, but even so, he willed himself to wake up.

  Of course, nothing happened. His chest still hurt. He still felt alone.

  “This is going to be fun. Isn’t it, brother?”

  Kade’s blood ran cold, riddling his flesh with heavy goosebumps. With a clenched jaw, he turned his head to face his baby brother. Vincent grinned at him, his black tar irises gleaming with delight. Kade was beginning to regret murdering his father. Because of that, Vincent was now his adviser—like Kade was to Michael.

  Kade glared. He hated that Vince looked like him and he hated that people could immediately link them as brothers. He wanted nothing to do with Vince. He didn’t want to share the same features, last name, or DNA. For a brief moment Kade wondered if he cut Vince open would he bleed black? Would his blood be ice cold, the same temperature as his heart?

  Kade leaned closer to his brother so the Fortunates behind him couldn’t hear.

  “Call me your brother again and I’ll cut your tongue out of your mouth.”

  Vince chuckled with an excited shiver. “Ooh. The hostility.” He grinned. “Deny me all you want, brother, but we are blood.”

  Kade clenched his jaw. If there weren’t so many people around, he’d punch Vince in the mouth. He’d done it before and he remembered the night well, but as the new head of the Sario household he was forced to rein in his temper. Just after Nine was locked up, Kade was advised to present a united front with his brother in case other families began sniffing for weaknesses. Naturally, Vince made that hard to do.

  Kade straightened his posture as rancorous whispers hissed around him. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and the palms of his hands became clammy with a nervous sweat. He’d both anxiously awaited and absolutely detested the arrival of this specific day. Nothing made him feel weaker than being unable to save the girl he loved. In the distance, he heard the rattle of metal chains and the scrape of tired feet against the concrete. Any second now they were going to read out the results. Any second now his heart would either thrum with newfound purpose or cease to beat.

  Forever.

  Kade turned his head as Nine passed by him. She was thin—thinner than usual. Her dress hung off her bones and barely covered the parts that needed covering. As she passed by she didn’t turn to look at him. Somehow, she kept her head up and her eyes forward. There was no fear in her face, no regret. It was the face Kade recalled the day he branded her with his family crest. The way she looked at him…she was defiant, she was courageous. It warmed Kade’s heart to know she was fearless right to the very end—given this was her end.

  As Kathryn passed by Kade, he peered up at her. She was already looking at him and somehow, underneath her ratty auburn hair and dirt-covered face, she mustered a small smile. The small twitch of her lips told him all he needed to know. Nine was Kade’s to look after. She was his to protect. He nodded his head at Kathryn and her chin fell to her chest. Compared to Nine, Kathryn looked like she was already at Death’s door. Her skin was a pale white and her lips were cracked. Kathryn wasn’t used to living in the conditions she had to suffer through. She had never slept on a hard surface in the cold. She had never lived off one meal and a few tablespoons of water. Not like her daughter did. Kathryn didn’t live the way she forced her daughter to live.

  Darkness built up in the pit of Kade’s stomach. He shouldn’t feel sympathy for a woman who abandoned a helpless baby. He shouldn’t…but he did. If it weren’t for Kathryn’s selfishness Nine wouldn’t exist. She’d be some prissy, bitchy, self-entitled Fortunate and Kade would be destined to fall deeper down the dark, dirty, murderous black hole they called society.

  She wouldn’t be Nine.

  She wouldn’t be his salvation…so he admired Kathryn for allowing the new world to have another person like him. No one despised society like Nine did. No one could make him feel normal like she could.

  The whole setup was a spectacle. A wooden stage had been erected a day prior to the event. When Kade was feeling particularly sadistic and wanted to inflict pain on himself, he’d come look at the stage. It was much more menacing during the day. Rust was visible on the thick metal poles where they’d be chained and large, sharp splinters jutted out of the wooden panels that lined the floor. He cringed as Nine’s dirty bare feet pressed against them, the pointy tips snapping off in the soles of her feet. Once the moderators had dragged Nine and Kathryn up to the stage, the field fell silent. Kade hated that an execution was taking place on the same lot of land as the Sario house, but since Vince was the coordinator there was nothing he could do. It sickened Kade to know Vince would enjoy Nine’s pain. Portia told Kade Vince had visited Nine a few times while she was locked up. He stopped once Kade pressed the tip of his sharp envelope opener into his throat and threatened his life. He took Kade seriously. He seemed to take all of Kade’s threats seriously now that their father had gone “missing.”

  But there was no way Vince could prove that he and Nine killed their father, Michael Sario.

  No way.

  Clearing his throat, Vince lifted himself out of his chair and joined Kathryn and Nine up on stage. There was a sinister curl to his lips that churned Kade’s stomach. He hated that Vince was enjoying this so much, but he had to ride it out…until the verdict came. He still had no idea what he was going to do if Nine was sentenced to death, but he knew for certain he wasn’t going to stay in his seat.

  Soyer, a moderator who was promoted from monitoring the Unfortunate camp to serving the Sario household—courtesy of Vince—held on tightly to the thick iron cuffs clamped around Nine’s wrists. Soyer didn’t need to hold her so tightly—or at all. There wasn’t any life in her. She was defeated and death was what she wanted…more than anything. Soyer could free her and tell her to run and she’d still beg him to kill her. It wasn’t fair. Nine would do anything to put herself out of her misery, all while thrusting Kade into it? Fuck that. Misery was a gentle word when used to describe the unrelenting pain her absence would cause him. He knew because h
e’d already felt it. The pain grew denser every day she’d been locked up.

  “Good morning!” Vince shouted, addressing the eager crowd.

  He rattled off a few light, distasteful jokes as he paraded the stage before explaining the situation and what was about to unfold. Kade had to give it to Vince, he spoke eloquently. He didn’t stumble or pause and Kade wondered if he’d been practising how to deliver his speech.

  “—she is potentially being punished for the very serious crime she committed,” Vince stated as he pulled Kathryn’s bony, fragile arms behind her back and tied her wrists to the thick metal pole.

  This was where she’d receive her lashings before they shot her like a sick animal.

  “It’s a crime against humanity,” he stated, a harsh smirk curling his lips.

  Kade swallowed hard as Vince stepped away from Kathryn and approached Nine. He walked lightly, almost bouncing over to her. His black leather shoes tapped along the wood, 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 I told him I loved him? “I can’t love you, Nine.”

  It’s funny how things work. I blink, pulling myself from my own head and focusing on his concerned gaze. He has beautiful black eyes…When light hits them from the right angle, they light up like the sky at night. I wonder if he knows that. I wonder if anyone has looked at him long enough to notice. I doubt he’d let anyone, even if they wanted to.

  Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe he does love me, but a whisper is hardly convincing.

  Vince’s loud, hoarse voice is background noise to the sound of my thudding heart. At least it still works.

  “You should go,” I croak, pulling against my chain. “People are staring.”

  I wince as sharp bits of metal cut the sensitive flesh on my wrists.

  “You think I care how they see me?”

  His soft fingers fall from my face and my chin drops to my chest. I grunt, my limbs trembling under my own weight. Still, even in my depleted state, I manage to hold myself up. It might not mean anything to a Fortunate, but to stand on my own two feet, when all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry, means the world to me. A subtle act of defiance in my last moment. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I lift my face, angling it up so my eyes lock with his and I manage a shrug.

  “You care too much, Fortunate.”

  His irises darken as his eyes grow thin. Warning flares in every one of his features and noticeably tightens his body. His offense reaches the tips of his fingers, curling them into frustrated fists.

  “Go awa—”

  His mouth crashes to mine and the collective gasps of everyone around us fades as the rapid slam of my heart against my ribs becomes the dominant sound. It thumps in my ears and pounds my brain. His damp lips moisten mine and the pain from the cracks subsides. In that moment, a sudden panic overtakes me, taking up space in my lungs. Caught up in the moment, caught up in the only person who loves me for who I am, I no longer want to die.

  He pulls away and the pain I previously felt seeps back into my bones and muscles, and my anger slams into me full force. Screw Kade. Screw all of these people.

  “Now tell me I care too much about what everyone else thinks.”

  I frown at him, the subtle movement causing my entire body to ache. “If I remain an Unfortunate, they’ll kill you for that.”

  He shrugs his broad, powerful shoulders. “Then I look forward to doing it again in the afterlife.”

  My heart stutters, causing my lips to quiver. “You’d hold on for that long?”

  “Longer.” His intense stare softens, his eyes filling with compassion. “I’d hold on to us until this world fades into the next.”

  “And when that world dissolves into another?”

  “Eternity is a long time, but it’d never change how I feel about you.”

  I open my mouth, but t
he sudden, cold tip of a rifle presses against my temple. In the blink of an eye Kade’s arm is outstretched, his face pinched into an angry glare. I let my gaze follow the length of his long, thick arm. At the end of it, held tightly by his clenched hand, is a gun.

  A scary, silver gun.

  Panic rushes over the crowd, but they don’t run. Almost immediately, I feel their adrenaline crackle in the air as their fear converts to excitement.

  “The results are being read. I’m following orders.”

  The voice sends familiar shivers down my spine and I hate it. Out of all the Moderators to bury a bullet in my skull, why does it have to be Soyer?

  “Follow orders when she’s condemned. You’re putting the tip of your gun against something a hell of a lot more valuable than your miserable life. Remove it before I paint the wood with your brain.”

  “You wouldn’t,” he states, the smile in his voice deafeningly loud.

  Kade flicks his thumb over the top of his gun and pulls back the hammer. As it clicks into place, his jaw tightens. “Try me.”

  I keep my stare on Kade’s face. Too scared to turn and face Soyer.

  “Lower the gun, Soyer, before my brother embarrasses my family any further.”

  I shiver at Vince’s dark, empty tone and when the cold metal of Soyer’s gun falls from my temple, I turn to look at Vince. In his large hands, he toys with the corners of a piece of paper—a piece of paper that will determine how the rest of my life will go.

  His black, soulless eyes lock with mine and I can’t fathom why there’s a curve on his lips.

  He holds me in place for what feels like an eternity before switching his attention to Kade.

  “For your sake…” he states, opening the piece of paper. “She better be one of us.”

  A sharp pain shoots from the nape of my neck and down my spine as I look to Kade. He swallows hard, but he doesn’t lower his gun. I force my attention back to Vince. His eyes scan over the simple piece of paper, but they give nothing away. There is no smirk, no scowl, not even a twitch of his eyebrow. Guilt swirls in my stomach…because the name I hope he reads off the paper isn’t mine.