Homeless

Chapter 16

The code number had been branded on my skin when I turned ten. Even as the skin stretched and grew, the brand was still there, ugly but readable.

It wasn't a tattoo, but an unsightly brand. Each character was made by a sweltering branding iron pressed into my skin while I was held in place by the guards.

Fortunately, we had escaped before Mark could get his brand, marring his skin for life with a painful reminder of what we'd been; Dispensables.

Nathaniel was quiet. Too quiet. My heart beat in my ears. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. A twisted tangle of shame and guilt and humiliation settled in the pit of my stomach like a spiked rock.

Nathaniel blinked, his eyes still fixed on where the brand would have been. A shaky breath slipped past my lips. I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed the knot in my throat.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry, Daphne.

Nathaniel knew about parts of my previous life, of course, but having him see it with his own eyes was mortifying beyond measure.

My hands fisted the material of my tank top as I pushed through the tears. Nathaniel's footsteps moved closer, slow and steady. But I didn't look up. I didn't dare look up. I wasn't ready for what I could possibly see in his eyes.

A gentle touch on my chin. I opened my eyes and looked up, biting my lip hard to keep it from trembling. Meeting his dark eyes, my lungs expanded with a relieved breath when I found nothing demeaning in his gaze.

He smiled slightly, his finger brushing my cold cheek with a tenderness I had once believed no man was capable of.

Despite my best efforts, one tear managed to escape, trailing down my cheek. Nathaniel sighed, brushing the treacherous drop away. "Now, none of that," he murmured.

He let go of my face and leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead, then pulling away with a small smile.

My lips parted, and my heart skittered. No one had ever done that before. The kiss felt purely reverent, gentle, completely untainted, free of any hint of lust or desire.

I had been stripped of so many things, so many firsts. But right then I realized that it was okay, there were so many firsts I could still live and experience. And I had a strong feeling this man, who looked at me like I was a precious jewel, would play a big part in many of them.

"Alright?"

"Alright," I said, my voice a scratchy whisper.

Nathaniel retrieved the book I had been eyeing and gave it to me, then left the library. My entire body loosened, relieved that I wouldn't have to speak about it now. I settled into one corner of the library, tucking my legs under me on the couch.

The book was good, but I ended up curled around myself, fighting to keep my eyes open. A battle I realized I'd lost when I woke up in my bed, sweating heavily.

I groaned, my eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. It was already night time, and I was alone in my bed. Disoriented, I sat up. Where was Mark?

Rolling out of bed, I closed my eyes tightly against a wave of dizziness, taking deep breaths until I was steady again. My skin pebbled. I put on a cardigan and ventured out to the living room.

Nathaniel was on the couch, speaking on the phone, with files and a computer on the coffee table in front of him. The spotlights in the kitchen and the TV were the only lights on.

He swiftly wrapped up his phone call when he saw me and stood up. Meeting me halfway, he put his hand on my forehead and hissed. "You're burning again."