Chained To Him [Editing]

Chapter Fifteen

5 years ago

Water traced down her arm, dripped back into the shallow tub with little splashes that echoed dully around the wooden basin. Through the thin curtain that surrounded the tub, she could see Luther pacing as she bathed, stopping every now and then to slam a hand against the wall, press his bruised fingers into his face. She focused on the feeling of the lukewarm water against her skin, the way her clean, wet hair began to cool and raise goosebumps along her arms and back. She wished in some ways that she could stay here forever in the warm water, which had started out uncomfortably hot. But curfew was coming soon, and she didn't want to be caught out alone by a guard, especially tonight.

She dried herself and slipped into a clean dress, one that she had saved particularly because the color of the fabric had not faded and she hadn't torn it from work in the field. It was a simple gown, light blue in color, with a skirt that gathered at the waist and buttons that secured the front and formed to her figure. As she slipped from behind the curtain, she avoided Luther's gaze, ignoring him as he walked toward her to yank a brush from her hand.

"Don't," he warned, but let her snatch the brush back from him and run the rough bristles through the tangles in her hair. "Jayde, I'm begging you."

But she brushed her hair until it began to dry in smooth, loose waves, before tucking the brush carefully back into a box of her belongings. She wished that she had more tears to cry, anything to break the lump in her throat, but there was nothing. They had searched all of last night, searched all today, but he was gone as if he never existed.

And then, someone had finally told Luther what had happened. Luther had been home that day in a drunken stupor, and Luc went to the fields alone. He wasn't supposed to be there, given that they'd started stealing away young men again, but they were starving once again and he had made the decision on his own without Jayde's help. And Luther couldn't stop him, passed out on the warm floor near the fireplace. When Jayde returned home that evening, they searched the path where he would have been, stayed out even past curfew to search. And all today, they found nothing of him, until a neighbor finally broke the news to Luther. He wasn't sure if Luc was taken, but he knew that the soldiers had come to the fields the day before and rounded up at least three dozen young men. He didn't know what the empire wanted them for, but had heard rumors that they were being shipped north to fight in the war on the empire's side.

And so Jayde stopped looking, even as Luther continued to stumble around the streets. When he returned, she was bathing, and he didn't have to ask her what she planned. And truthfully, she didn't have much of a plan. All she had to offer in this world was herself, and as hunger had once again drawn in her stomach and tightened the skin of her face, she felt that there was increasingly less of her to offer.

Luther fell to his knees before her, wound his hands into her skirt as he pressed his forehead against her. She let her hand rest on his head, a motion of habit, as he clung to her. "Please, Jayde." His voice was muffled as he hugged her to him. "Let me go instead, you have to let me go instead."

She stepped away from him, gently prying his hands away from the fabric of her dress and touching him on the cheek. "You're too drunk," she murmured, "They wouldn't even let you in." Jayde bit her lip at the hurt on Luther's face and softened her voice. "I have to try."

"Don't go, Jayde, it's not worth it," he stood now, seeming to sober in front of her, though he still swayed lightly from the effort. "Luc will manage, he always manages."

"This is different. Nothing else matters anymore." She moved toward the door but Luther pressed himself against it, shaking his head as he reached for her. Jayde stepped just out of range and frowned at him, feeling her lip tremble.