looks at me. I know he blames himself for what happened, and I’ve stopped trying to convince him it wasn’t his fault.
His hair is cut fairly short, and curls around his ears. He has light-blue eyes, just like... mine . He’s a powerful man, standing at six-foot tall. He’s strong, and well built. He wears a crisp gray suit with a blue tie that brings out the color in his eyes.
I turn to my father, who is glaring at me. He’s aging now, and his once dark hair is silver. His skin is wrinkling, but his eyes are as stark blue as they always were.
The man sitting at the table isn’t someone I’ve seen before. He’s older, with a balding head and square glasses. If his stomach gets any bigger, it’ll pop out of the suit that’s straining to keep it in. He doesn’t even acknowledge my presence; he just stares down at the mass of papers in front of him. Ben walks over, clapping me on the shoulder.
“It’s good to see you, brother.”
I nod at him. “Let’s get this over with.”
“ Stai, Benjamin ,” my father rasps, ordering Ben to sit.
He does. My father’s glare comes back to me, and with a growl, I sit, too.
“James,” my father begins. “This is my son, Benjamin. He will take over the company when I go. He’s very talented, and I’m sure you’ll find him suited for the tasks we have set out for him.”
The man reaches over the table, and shakes Ben’s hand. “Good to meet you, son.”
“And this is Will.” My father looks me in the face as he says to the man, “He’s a silent partner.” Not his son . Never his son . “But he comes to these things to be kept in the loop.” Father’s voice is empty, as though I’m no more than a piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
He doesn’t refer to me as his son because he’s ashamed of me; he always has been. My chest coils tightly, and the urge to reach over and grasp his collar, strangling him until all the breath leaves his body, is quite strong.
“My name is William,” I growl, glaring at my father. He snorts, and waves me off.
There’s not a person around, asid c arer’se from Ben, who calls me Will. My father knows this, yet he does it anyway, because he enjoys bringing me pain. The man turns his bored expression to me, and studies my face. “What happened to you?”
I stiffen, but like every other time that question is asked, Ben steps in.
“That’s none of your concern. We’ re here to discuss the finances, so let’s get started so we can leave, yes?”
I stare at Ben, and he gives me a warm smile before we turn and begin going over the finances.
It can’t end soon enough.
CHAPTER NINE
NUMBER THIRTEEN
L ying on this bed hurts, it hurts so badly. By the time I get back to my room and shower for the night, I am utterly exhausted. I crawl into bed after eating dinner, and I cry out when the sheets feel like sandpaper against my skin. I roll to my side, and throw the blanket over my body so my back is exposed to the cool air. Even though the pain is awful, I still find myself spinning quickly into the deep sleep that takes me each night.
We’re woken early the next morning, with the guards swinging our door open and barking at us to get up. Slowly, I force my sore, aching body out of bed and I stare over at the door with blurry eyes. “You girls are doing the kitchen as well as the washing today. Because of your stupid mistake to try and escape yesterday, you’re taking over the chores for group three today.”
Great.
Like zombies, we all drag our bodies from bed, our eyes heavy, our heads hanging. We eat, dress, and then head out with the guards. As we walk down the halls, we pass the others girl’s rooms. I see some of their doors are open, and they’re sitting on their beds. I stare in at them, feeling oddly connected, even though we’ve not had a chance to interact at all since the first day. I guess it’s just an emotional connection because we all understand something about the other
His hair is cut fairly short, and curls around his ears. He has light-blue eyes, just like... mine . He’s a powerful man, standing at six-foot tall. He’s strong, and well built. He wears a crisp gray suit with a blue tie that brings out the color in his eyes.
I turn to my father, who is glaring at me. He’s aging now, and his once dark hair is silver. His skin is wrinkling, but his eyes are as stark blue as they always were.
The man sitting at the table isn’t someone I’ve seen before. He’s older, with a balding head and square glasses. If his stomach gets any bigger, it’ll pop out of the suit that’s straining to keep it in. He doesn’t even acknowledge my presence; he just stares down at the mass of papers in front of him. Ben walks over, clapping me on the shoulder.
“It’s good to see you, brother.”
I nod at him. “Let’s get this over with.”
“ Stai, Benjamin ,” my father rasps, ordering Ben to sit.
He does. My father’s glare comes back to me, and with a growl, I sit, too.
“James,” my father begins. “This is my son, Benjamin. He will take over the company when I go. He’s very talented, and I’m sure you’ll find him suited for the tasks we have set out for him.”
The man reaches over the table, and shakes Ben’s hand. “Good to meet you, son.”
“And this is Will.” My father looks me in the face as he says to the man, “He’s a silent partner.” Not his son . Never his son . “But he comes to these things to be kept in the loop.” Father’s voice is empty, as though I’m no more than a piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe.
He doesn’t refer to me as his son because he’s ashamed of me; he always has been. My chest coils tightly, and the urge to reach over and grasp his collar, strangling him until all the breath leaves his body, is quite strong.
“My name is William,” I growl, glaring at my father. He snorts, and waves me off.
There’s not a person around, asid c arer’se from Ben, who calls me Will. My father knows this, yet he does it anyway, because he enjoys bringing me pain. The man turns his bored expression to me, and studies my face. “What happened to you?”
I stiffen, but like every other time that question is asked, Ben steps in.
“That’s none of your concern. We’ re here to discuss the finances, so let’s get started so we can leave, yes?”
I stare at Ben, and he gives me a warm smile before we turn and begin going over the finances.
It can’t end soon enough.
CHAPTER NINE
NUMBER THIRTEEN
L ying on this bed hurts, it hurts so badly. By the time I get back to my room and shower for the night, I am utterly exhausted. I crawl into bed after eating dinner, and I cry out when the sheets feel like sandpaper against my skin. I roll to my side, and throw the blanket over my body so my back is exposed to the cool air. Even though the pain is awful, I still find myself spinning quickly into the deep sleep that takes me each night.
We’re woken early the next morning, with the guards swinging our door open and barking at us to get up. Slowly, I force my sore, aching body out of bed and I stare over at the door with blurry eyes. “You girls are doing the kitchen as well as the washing today. Because of your stupid mistake to try and escape yesterday, you’re taking over the chores for group three today.”
Great.
Like zombies, we all drag our bodies from bed, our eyes heavy, our heads hanging. We eat, dress, and then head out with the guards. As we walk down the halls, we pass the others girl’s rooms. I see some of their doors are open, and they’re sitting on their beds. I stare in at them, feeling oddly connected, even though we’ve not had a chance to interact at all since the first day. I guess it’s just an emotional connection because we all understand something about the other
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