Unspoken

~ Chapter Nine ~

My pulse was racing in my chest. As my palms began to sweat, my fight or flight instincts kicked in, and I backed towards the door. He turned to look at me, his face twisted into a terrifying smile.
"Nevaeh Williams," he spoke after observing me for a long moment. "You need not fear me."
"What do you want?" I kept my distance as he moved to the center of the room.
"Have a seat," he gestured to the end of the bed. I kept my eyes on him as I moved, sitting lightly on the mattress. Adrenaline was pulsing through me, and I was on edge, observing him carefully. "I'm going to talk now, and you're going to listen. Don't speak until I am finished."
"Fine," my eyes trailed him as he began to pace, using his cane for support.
"A little over one year ago, the government was forced to step in when a young man and an entertainer fell in love. They plotted to leave the society, and punishment had to be served," he began, examining my bedroom. "There's more to the story, but I'm only going to give you the base information. This couple spoke out against the New Society, and many were ready to join their side. We were on the verge of another rebellion.
"I was put in charge of the mission to put them down. For months, we gathered information and evidence, watching them closely. They were likely starting to believe that they could escape.
"We raided the manor, and eliminated everyone in the family. All but one died. It was truly a tragedy, but necessary. I presume you realize by now that I am referring to young Noah Ivanov, and your sister.
"She had the same fire in her as you. It stayed in her eyes up until I pulled the trigger to put her down. She was too dangerous-a threat to the New Society. I did admire her spirit, though," he turned to look at me emotionlessly. "You may speak freely."
"Why not just let them leave?" I asked, masking the hatred burning within me. So you're the one who killed her. I'll make you pay. Somehow, I'll make you suffer as much as she did. You can die choking on your own blood too, for all I care.
"Oh, child," he frowned. "You disappoint me. I thought you were intelligent enough to figure out that, at the very least," his tone was mocking, as though he were explaining something simple to a child. "You see," he continued, pursing his almost non-existent lips. "It's all about setting a precedent for future criminals. If we let one person slip out, others follow. However, if we instill fear into the citizens, and put down those who oppose us, the people are easier to control."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" I asked suspiciously.
"I'm telling you this because you're not like the other citizens. You have a sense of free will that many no longer possess, thanks to genetic breeding. That's why you were put in this roll. You would have had too much power as a citizen. As an entertainer, not many are willing to hear your voice," he explained slowly, his voice cold and careless.
"I thought entertainers were chosen because of blood ties," I rose an eyebrow, trying subtly to get more information. There were millions of questions burning in my mind, despite the icy fear I was trying to hide.
"They usually are, but there are circumstances that allow us to step in directly and assign people to the institution if we see fit," he began pacing again. Finch was right. I thought wearily. Damn he's good.
"Are my sister and I one of those special circumstances?" I asked boldly, a challenge in my voice. He stepped towards me. He reeked of cigar smoke and whisky.
"My dear, I can't give you all the answers," he laughed humorlessly, reaching out and lifting a strand of my hair. I stiffened, eyeing him cautiously. "As I said before, you don't need to fear me. At least not tonight."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked as he threaded the strand through his fingers, pressing it to his nose. He took a deep wiff, sighing in pleasure at the scent of my hair products. I resisted the urge to shove him away as he spoke again.
"Your beloved master is very fond of you," he said distractedly. "And you have clearly fallen for him as well."
"I'm not in love with him," I shook my head.
"I never said you loved him. Besides, darling, shouldn't we just agree not to lie to each other?" he smirked cruelly, letting the loose strand fall as he stepped back.
"It's not a lie," I insisted, glaring at him.
"Careful, child," he tsked slowly. "Your master may have made a deal with me to keep you safe, but that protection only goes so far."
"He made a deal with you so that you wouldn't just kill me, then?" I asked, standing. He wasn't so intimidating, now that he was no longer towering over me.
"No harm will come to you so long as you continue to obey the laws," he snickered snidely.
"What about Noah?" I asked.
"I am not obligated to do anything for Mr. Ivanov," he shook his head. I could tell he was enjoying my frustration.
"Then make a deal with me," I said. "For Noah, and all of my friends."
"What could you possibly have to offer me?" he asked coldly, snickering.
"I'll continue to obey your laws. I'll forget this, and I'll be a slave to the New Society," I offered. It was a lie, but I'd fake anything to protect my loved ones.
"Nevaeh," he frowned. "We agreed on honesty. Besides, you're going to have to think of a much better offer than that."
"What do you want, then?" I asked, locking my eyes on his, gazing at him seriously. He stepped forward, leaning close to my ear.
"I don't want you dead," he paused. His breath smelled sour. "Yet."
He moved slowly to the door, turning to look back at me as he turned the handle. "Take this as a warning, child. If you set a single toe out of line, I will have Noah Ivanov, and all of your 'friends', euthanized immediately-after extensive torture, of course," his voice was serious, deadly, and threatening.
"You can't do that," I said weakly. The blood had drained from my face, and I was shaking.
"Oh, but I can, dear. It's easy to make them look like rebel allies," he smirked, sweeping out of the room. Was that a confirmation of the rebellion? Is it really out there? Hope sprung up in my chest, immediately crushed by Mr. Wickenburgh's threat. Even if it is, there's nothing I can do. I won't risk the lives of Noah and my friends.
I sunk numbly onto the edge of the bed, breathing heavily as my heart thudded fearfully against my ribs. What deal did Noah make for me? I felt panicked, and I was sweating.
I kept obsessing over everything he'd told me, fearful tears collecting in my eyes. Natalia. Her name caught in my mind and I began to sob, burying my face in my hands.
"Nevaeh," a familiar voice said. I turned to see Noah in the doorway, his expression mixed between concern and relief. I jumped from the bed and sprinted into him, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his chest as the tears streamed down my face, he pulled me towards the bed and cradled me in his lap, stroking my hair. "What did Mr. Wickenburgh say to you?" he asked clutching me to him. I could barely get the words out at first, but then they rushed out, bringing fresh tears.
        "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, looking up at Noah. "Why didn't you tell me he's the one who killed her?"
       "I thought it would only cause more pain," his eyes tightened. "When there's nothing either of us can do about it."
        "I guess," I wrapped my arms around his neck, nuzzling my face under his jaw. He held me tightly, running his fingers through my damp hair. Tears continued to fall, dampening his shirt.
He lifted me and placed me on the bed, pulling the sheets and blankets over me. He sat beside me, still stroking my hair. He looked horribly sad, his onyx eyes liquid.
"Try to sleep," he murmured as I gripped his hand.
"Stay with me?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Not tonight, love," he said, kissing me softly on the forehead. The kiss was long, and almost seemed sad. He left the room quickly once he stood, flipping off the lights. The music was still pounding downstairs, annoying me to the point that I had a hard time falling asleep. I tossed and turned until I was finally too exhausted to move.
Images of Noah dancing filled me, following me into my dreams, where we danced together again. I was in a pretty white dress. The details were blurry, and I could only see his face clearly.
He froze in my arms and fell limply to the ground. Blood spilled from his mouth as he clutched his throat. He was changing, morphing.
I sobbed, unable to wake up as I held my bleeding sister in my arms. I screamed her name, as Mr. Wickenburgh appeared. He held a hand gun and was laughing maniacally. Terror filled me as he became the focus of the dream.
He held the barrel to my forehead and I was begging and pleading with him. I heard him pull the hammer back with a loud click, and closed my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks as he pulled the trigger.
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