As she swallowed the distance, her steps quickening in pace, he noticed the panic she tried to suppress. His mind raced with all of the terrible things that could have happened overnight while he was gone, but he convinced himself that he left her while she was sleeping. Nothing would have happened to her if she stayed in her room.
…but what if she left her room? What if she was stupid enough to try and find me? His stomach twisted at the thought.
When she was within arm’s reach, she dived at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He was covered in dust and dirt and it would transfer onto her clean dress, but she didn’t care. She squeezed him tightly, so tight that ruining her own dress would be inevitable.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, draping his arms over her shoulders.
He remained still, allowing her to hold him for as long as she needed to.
She held him for a long time—so long his calf muscle began to ache. Again, he asked her if she was all right and, after hesitating, she finally lifted her head to look up at him. She didn’t make eye contact. All she did was stare at his lips. He tightened his jaw at the sight of her swimming, violet eyes.
“I’m fine. I’m—”
Her fingers twitched against his back and her voice was anything but stable. Dread swirled in his stomach and tightened his muscles. Something happened while he was gone. That much he knew.
“You’re shaking,” he pointed out, trying hard to quell the frustration bubbling in his blood.
It was a hard habit to rectify, but he tried every day. Patience, he told himself, but of course it was easier said than done. All he wanted to do was shake her until she opened up.
Nine pulled away and hugged herself. She glanced sideways at the looming Sario manor and shuddered. “Can we go somewhere? Can we talk?”
He frowned and took her tiny elbow in his hand. “Of course. Come inside. I’ll shower and then we—”
Shrugging from his grip, Nine dug her heels in and refused to climb the first step. Something was seriously wrong. Tears welled in her eyes as she lifted her stare to his. “I’ll be in my room. Come and get me when you’re ready.”
She whirled on her heel and jogged down the path.
“Nine?” he called after her, but she didn’t turn around.
What happened while he was gone? Was it the rebellion? Was it Vince? His heart sank. Did she not want to be married to him anymore? Was that it? Did she wake up and decide saying I do and consummating the marriage at the same time wasn’t the romantic event she wanted? Or perhaps news of what he did at the mine was the straw that broke the camel’s back?
Bending low, Kade scooped up his backpack and trotted up the steps and into Sario manor. He was tired—the tiredest he’d ever been—but Nine wanted to talk so sleep would have to wait.
∞ Nine ∞
Oliver leans against the wall, his leg bent at the knee as I scan over the map of Freeport. I’ve poured over this map since the sun rose this morning, plotting the second stage of the rebellion. I needed something to keep me busy until Kade came back and now that he’s here…I wish I had more time. I don’t know how to tell him what happened…I don’t know where to begin. I have this irrational fear that Kade will blame me for what happened. He’ll tell me I should have stayed in bed…and he’s right. I should have.
“It’s unrealistic to assume we’ll have weapons for everybody. We’re at one hundred and seventy-four recruits already. We can’t possibly smuggle that many guns. It’s too obvious.”
I shake my head. “No, it isn’t. I’ve devised the perfect plan.”
There’s a knock at the door and my heart drops into my intestines. I know it’s Kade. He’s here for the talk I’ve been dreading for hours. In the off chance it isn’t him, I fold the map and put it on my lap as Oliver pushes off the wall and crosses the room. Sure enough, when Oliver unlocks the door and tugs it open, I’m met with Kaden’s black eyes.
He is devastatingly handsome in his casual black tee and loose slacks. I don’t think I’ve seen him so relaxed, so…tired. Kade glances between Oliver and me before entering without a greeting. Closing the door, Oliver rolls his eyes.
Kade strolls across the room, grazing his palm over whatever objects are in his reach.
The couch. A lamp. The bar.
He doesn’t drop his hand until he’s at my desk. With a tight jaw, he sits on the edge and folds his arms over his thick chest. He’s clean, much cleaner than he was when I met him outside the Sario manor a little over an hour ago. The smells of soap and whiskey blow over me, turning my stomach. He smells like Vince did…exactly like Vince did.
“Your plan?” Oliver prompts, coming back to his wall. “Let’s hear it.”
Right. I clear my throat. “I need you to go to the Milano blacksmith sheds after hours. John will give you, and a handful of helpers, access every night after eight for exactly five hours. Pack every second weapon into bags of grain and send them to the Unfortunate camp up on the hill. They’ll store them in the silos for later use.”
“Why the camp on the hill?” Kade asks and I all but flinch at the familiar sound of his voice. “It’s the furthest camp from the town.”
“Exactly,” I say, avoiding his gaze. “I admit it’s a fair way to run on the day, but it’s the ideal safe house once the war starts.”
“And the fence surrounding the town?”
“John promises it will be open when it’s time to run.”
Oliver bends his leg at the knee again. “And this…camp. You’re sure it’s a good place?”
I nod. “It’s on a hill opposite Freeport. We’ll see any hostile approaches long before they arrive. Another plus are the cliffs behind us. They’re steep, so there’s no chance of an ambush while we sleep.”
“You mentioned bags of grain,” Kade says and I look at him. “Where are you going to get those?”
I swallow. “I, uh, I spent the morning negotiating with Frances Miller. As you know, the Millers are in charge of agriculture and they do the bulk of the farming. She’s offered us twelve bags of grain a night for three weeks. She can’t keep them off the books and turn a blind eye for longer than that.”
“Frances Miller has no authority,” he points out.
“Lucky for us, her aunt gave birth three days ago and she’s put Frances in charge for the next three weeks. As for the Unfortunate camp, Frances assures me that the moderators on the other end will take care of everything.”
“And you trust her?”
I shrug. “It’s all I’ve got.”
His lips curve. “Well done.”
I turn to Oliver. “I saw the bags. I was only taught the basics of mathematics, but by my calculations, she’ll give us two hundred and fifty-two bags over the three week period. If we pull it off, it’ll be one thousand, five hundred and twelve guns we manage to smuggle.”
Oliver cracks a smile. The first of its kind. “Well, when you put it that way.”
He chuckles and claps his hands together. I smile at him. I’m glad I’ve finally been able to contribute to the cause.
“I have to meet John now anyway,” Oliver says, pushing off the wall and smoothing his palms down the front of his white tee. “After that, I’ll pick a few trustworthy people to help me in the sheds tonight.”
I nod. “Sounds good—oh! Before I forget. When you pack the guns into the sacks, be sure to bag them in plastic first. We don’t want the grains to jam them.”
Without a word to Kade, without even a glance in his direction, Oliver leaves the room.
And we’re alone.
“Did he seem more pissed at me than usual?”
I frown at him. Is he serious right now? “Both Oliver and John are pissed at you.”
Kaden lifts his eyebrows. “Really?”
I grab the map from my lap and stash it in my bottom drawer. “You seem surprised.”
“I am. I had Portia give Oliver the letter I received in the morning. They knew where I was going.”
&n
bsp; “That’s no excuse. You murdered people,” I snap, slamming the drawer. “Again.”
Kade tilts his head and his eyes darken. “You seem so sure.”
I haven’t been a Fortunate for long, but I wasn’t born yesterday. “I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were.”
I sit forward, resting my arms on the table. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you went out of your way to spare the lives of a handful of Unfortunates you don’t even know?”
“I did.” He nods proudly, a cute little smirk tugging at his lips. “And I can prove it. They’re going to meet me next week. You can come see them if you don’t believe me.”
Maybe he is telling the truth…I exhale, defeated. I don’t know what has gotten into me. He isn’t Vince. He isn’t my enemy. He’s husband and I should trust him. He’s the only one with my best interest at heart, after all.
“I’m sorry. I believe you. I do.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “When you get a moment, can you please work on setting up that communication system you were talking about? We’re going to need it in order for phase two to operate smoothly. I’ve already organised for John Milano to…” I trail off when my stare meets Kade’s.
He’s watching me with this…look. And I know it all too well. He glances at my lips.
“You’re sexy when you’re in charge, you know,” he teases, leaning toward me from his position.
I try so very hard to acknowledge his playfulness. I want nothing more than to reciprocate his teasing, but I can’t. It’s like that part of my brain isn’t working. All I can do is frown.
“What, not even a smile?”
Not even a smile. I slump in my seat. “I’m not really in the mood to play, Kaden.”
He slips off the desk and crouches beside me. “What’s wrong, Nine?”
“Stop calling me that.” I push out of my chair and stand up.
I’m cracking under the pressure—under his pressure. Is he pressuring me? I don’t know. It feels like it. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe I’m just overreacting.
He frowns. “You don’t like it?”
I lift my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose, but it trembles uncontrollably halfway, so clenching it, I drop it back to my side. What is happening to me? Now isn’t the time to spiral out of control. I can’t let Vince break me.
I won’t.
I swallow the lump in my throat and look away. “I don’t want to be Nine anymore. I want to be more like you. I need to be more like you. Nine the Unfortunate can’t do what needs to be done…but Anna the Fortunate can.”
I feel his eyes on me. I know he’s judging me. I know he’s wondering if this rebellion is too much for me or if all of this planning I’ve done has stressed me out.
It hasn’t. The only time I don’t think about me is when I force myself to think about others.
He straightens his legs and stands tall. “Is there something wrong?”
I pout. “Kaden…”
Shaking his head, he extends his hand to me and I close my mouth.
“Come on. I want to show you something.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “You want to show me something?”
He nods earnestly, so I slip my hand into his. Tears well in my eyes at his gentle touch. His skin is soft, much softer than I remember. He tugs me along behind him and escorts me out of the room. I don’t make eye contact or engage in small talk as he leads me out of the house and through the town. I’m lost in my own thoughts, not paying attention to the people that mosey around me. I’m sure they stare and whisper at us, but I’m too focused on myself to really notice. All I can think about is my hand in his. On occasion, he strokes it with his thumb. He hasn’t realised I’m not wearing my engagement ring. What am I going to say when he finally does realise? The thought simultaneously squeezes my stomach and my heart.
Kade escorts me out to a field away from prying eyes and straining ears. He glances sideways at me when we approach a large rug on the ground, adorned with a white wicker basket and tall wine glasses. I sit on the soft rug, tucking my legs underneath me. Kade sits beside me and I steal a glance at him as he reaches for the basket and pulls it open. I can see the strain on his face, the tremendous strength he’s using to force himself to be into this…this “date.” I’m not blind, though. I see through his façade. Underneath his fake happy expression, I see his tired, heavy eyes and the slight downturn in the corners of his lips. I appreciate the effort he’s gone to to make me happy. He knows something is wrong, but he hasn’t questioned me. He hasn’t demanded answers. He thinks it’s him so he’s trying to fix it…like a real husband would.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, fishing through the basket.
I shake my head, my stomach turning at the thought of eating when I’m already filled to the brim with stress. “No. Not really.”
He retrieves a bottle of wine and holds it up. “Wine, then?”
Not wanting to turn him down again, I nod. “Please.”
I glance around us as silence falls. He’s picked the most perfect spot for a picnic. I tip my head back and look up the massive tree that casts shade over us. This is a dream come true. To relax under the shade of a tree, surrounded by grass and weeds that aren’t as obnoxious as some would believe. I hate that this dream of mine is tainted by stress…
“You’re not wearing your ring,” Kade points out, pouring wine into a glass.
My heart stops and tears immediately well in my eyes. I knew he’d notice. I peer down at my hand and it trembles uncontrollably. I close it into a fist and rest it in my lap, covering it with my other hand. “Uh…”
He fills the glass to halfway and hands it to me. Clenching my teeth, I shake my head. Kade grunts in frustration and drinks the whole glass of wine himself in one large gulp. He clicks his tongue and stares out at the field in front of us.
“If yesterday wasn’t what you wanted—”
“No,” I cut in, reaching forward and placing my hand on his knee. I can’t bear the thought of him thinking my mood is because of him. “It’s not yesterday. It’s not you. I just…” I swallow hard. “There’s something…I…”
He tips his head to the side and I slump my shoulders. I can’t tell him. Vince was right. It will break his heart.
“I lost it.”
He quirks an eyebrow. He doesn’t believe me for a second. “You lost it?”
I nod as tears bubble over and drip onto my cheeks. I’m lying, he knows it, and it makes me feel horrible.
“No need to cry,” he says. He tries hard to pass his voice off as kind, but I hear its cold undertones. He’s fishing for the truth. I know he is. “It’s a good thing I have these.”
Kaden digs around in his pocket and pulls out two beautiful gold rings. One is thick and one is thin and they’re a perfect match. They’re simple and beautiful and…I drop my face into my hands as my ribcage rips open and my heart bleeds. I give up. I’m not cut out for deceit.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” His voice is satisfied, pleased he was able to crack me without breaking a sweat.
“I didn’t lose the ring.” I sob, shaking my head.
“I know.” He touches my forearm. “Where is it?”
I shake my head again. I don’t have the heart to tell him. What will he say? What will he do? Telling him is exactly want Vince wants. He wants the reaction, he wants the retaliation. I can’t give Vince what he wants. Despite my refusal, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, swallowing me up in his large arms.
He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “You can tell me anything.”
I wait until my body stops forcibly sucking air into my lungs, making it difficult to talk. I think of everything—anything—but Vince and the way he slapped my skin and squeezed my throat. Lifting my head, I focus on the green blades of grass that dance in the breeze and listen to the sound of Kade’s heart, beating against my ear.
“Early this morning…” I swipe at my nose. “I…he…he took
my ring.”
“Who took it?”
My lips tremble, my nostrils flare as I try desperately to withhold the tears. My stomach turns violently and I gag at the thought of speaking his name. “Your brother.”
He tenses around me. “Was this at breakfast? Where was John?”
“It was before breakfast…way before. It was dark and I couldn’t see. If I knew…if John had told me…if I didn’t…” I lower my face again, allowing the sobs to constrict my chest and shake my shoulders. “He was there. I thought it was you.”
Kade’s fingers twitch against waist. “He was where?”
“In your room. He…” I bite my lip and taste my tears. I don’t want to say it.
“Tell me he didn’t.”
I nod. He did. “I shouldn’t have gone there. John said you’d be back, but you weren’t. I tried to run. I tried to get away, but he put a gun to my head.” The words rush out of me, a mess of words through cries and clenched teeth. “The letter you received didn’t come from the city. Vince forged it. He plotted everything.”
I bunch Kade’s shirt in my fist and press it against my face. I expect him to leave, to go on a rampage and tear down buildings, demanding revenge. What I don’t expect is him to hold me closer, cradling me gently in his arms. He shushes me while planting erratic kisses on the top of my head, giving me all of the comfort I thought he’d deny me.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks. “Tell me what you want.”
Under me, he bounces his knee ever so slightly, pert with impatience. I want to unleash Kade on Vince. I want to watch blood drain from his body as Vince begs his brother not to hurt him.
But that’s the easy way out. What I want more than anything is to see his eyes curve in surprise when he realises it’s not his brother that has come for revenge.
It’s me.
When I’m through with him, he’ll wish it was his brother. Kade’s punishment will be a hell of a lot more humane than mine.
“I’ve thought long and hard about it,” I say, sniffling. “I’ve weighed every option, fantasised about his death a million and one different ways…”