Sedition (13 page)

“I’m married,” Abriel announces, grinning. “Her name’s Lisa. We have a daughter, Bella. She’s going to be four in a few months.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m an uncle? I think about the timeline. “Whoa, you got some chick knocked up when you were barely out of high school, then?”

Abriel turns red, keeping his eyes focused on the road. “Bella wasn’t planned, no. But Lisa and I got married and did things the right way. Her family is pretty conservative, and so is she. Listen, Sascha, don’t let her hear you say things like ‘knocked up,’ she’ll take it the wrong way.”

I think that if she was so conservative, maybe she shouldn’t have fucked my little brother and made a baby with him, but I choose not to say this out loud. Five years ago, I would have said it in a heartbeat, but slavery has changed me at least enough that I can bite my tongue
sometimes
.

“She’s a great person,” Abriel insists, a little too forcefully. “And I’m working with her family’s business. I’m really part of their family now.”

That strikes me as strange. “What about mom and dad?” Something that died inside of me years ago lights up at the idea of seeing them again. The disappointment that I know they would have written across their faces at my decision would be worth it to see them and explain my plan and reunite with them and Abriel, like old times.

“They’re fine,” Abriel says, dismissively.

His tone tips me off. I start to panic, wondering if something has happened to them, shit, they’re not that old, and they were in good health, but things happen. “Abriel, what happened? Are they okay?”

“Sascha, they’re
fine
,” he snaps.

I draw back out of habit, barely resisting the urge to cower away. The other half of me wants to give Abriel a smack for snapping at me, or maybe tease him about being touchy. Instincts tell me to protect myself, but this is my goddamned brother! We used to have tickle wars and play pranks on each other. I can’t flinch away from him! What’s really true is that I can’t reconcile the two lives I’ve had.

“Sorry,” he mutters, fixating on the road. “It’s kind of a sore subject. Nothing to be concerned with. Look, Sascha, I’m just closer with Lisa’s family now, okay? They’ve helped me out a lot and with Bella and all… I just don’t talk to mom and dad that much now, okay? Let it go.”

“Yeah, all right.” I resist the urge to say “yes, sir,” or maybe even “yes, master.” When did my little brother get so serious and closed-off? He used to be so friendly, so transparent—has he really grown up so much?

He clears his throat, ending the conversation, and rather awkwardly moving it to something else. “So, uh, anyway, what were you doing? For that rich guy. You seemed pretty comfortable there.”

I really was. More comfortable than I can think about without tearing up, at the moment. “Nothing special,” I lie. “Just helping him out with work, you know, filing, fetching things, cleaning up around the house. Oh, and I learned to cook.”

Abriel laughs. “Well, you always did like to eat,” he attempts to joke.

It goes quiet for a minute.

“So, uh, a brothel?”

I wish it had stayed quiet. “Yeah.”

“What, did he buy you as some kind of sex slave or something?” Abriel’s face shows his disgust. I guess I might have felt the same way if our roles were reversed. I wonder if he’s disgusted with me or with Cash.

“No, he, uh, he just bought me for work,” I say. It’s partially true. “He wasn’t really interested in that.” How do I tell him that I
wanted
the sex we had? Would that disgust him, too?

Abriel nods. “That’s good. Glad to hear.”

The rest of the ride, thankfully, is silent. I feel myself drifting off as we drive, the view starting to darken as day turns into night, and I wonder briefly how far we have to go before we get to his house.
My
new home, I realize, still startled. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve left my home behind.

I’m jerked awake as we make a sudden turn off the highway and onto a smaller street. Ah, suburbs. I glance questioningly at Abriel, wondering if this is really it. It’s so close to where Cash and I lived—maybe a few hundred miles. For so long, my brother and I have been this close and had no idea. It’s so far from where we both grew up.

“Hey, Sascha, remember how I said Lisa and her family are pretty conservative?”

Abriel must have noticed I was awake. He’s always been observant like that, paying attention to people in the same way I pay attention to information. “Yeah?”

“Well, uh…” Abriel shifts, uncomfortable, as he pulls into a driveway leading up to the most average house I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Just… watch yourself around her, you know? She’s not so keen on the idea of having a slave that’s not traditional.”

A slave? Traditional? Fuck, I thought I was his goddamned brother, making Lisa my sister-in-law. “Um, sure, whatever you say, man. Sounds fine.” He’s probably just overreacting. Either that, or I am. He can’t mean for me to be a fucking slave for real.

He gets out of the car, prompting me to follow him, and opens the trunk. “Grab your bags,” he mumbles. “I’ll show you your new home.”

I carry my bags, glad to have something to do with my hands. He probably wants his hands free to unlock the door and stuff. I follow Abriel inside silently, trying not to think of myself as a slave following his master. But then, would that be the better way to think of it?

I brush the thought aside as a woman comes to the door to greet us, pulling Abriel in for a surprisingly possessive kiss. I stand there awkwardly as the woman seems to put on a show for me, unless she makes out with my brother every night when he gets home. I resist the urge to shudder at the thought. Call me a prude, but watching my brother play tonsil hockey with his wife every day is not something I’d enjoy.

“So, you found the slave?” she says, finally sparing a glance at me. Her eyes scan me once, up and down, like a barcode. A blink, and she’s disregarded me.

“Yeah,” Abriel says, a sex-drunk smile on his face. “Lisa, this is Sascha, my brother.”

“Well, we can’t very well have him sleep in the doorway, now can we?” She asks, and I wonder if that’s not exactly what she’d like to do with me. “Show him to his room, Abe, and if you hurry, you’ll have time to tell Bella goodnight. She didn’t realize you’d be gone this long, you know. She gets upset.”

“Sure thing,” Abriel smiles at her. “C’mon, Sascha.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” I fumble, startled when I’m not even given a second glance. I follow behind Abriel as he leads me to a small, stark room.

“The bathroom’s just down the hall,” Abriel tells me, as if I couldn’t have figured it out. “I’ll show you around more tomorrow, but it’s getting pretty late and we’re probably going to be going to bed. There’s a whole night time routine. Bella doesn’t sleep well if there’s noise.”

“Sure thing,” I mumble, realizing I’m effectively being put to bed. I guess this was a disruption, though, maybe that’s why Lisa was so put out.

“Abe?” I ask, trying to keep myself from laughing. “I thought you hated that nickname.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Sascha,” he mutters. “Lisa thinks it’s cute.”

I figure she must be damn good in bed, because I know my brother
hated
that nickname. “All right, loverboy,” I give in, trying to tease him a little. “And Abriel, thank you so much. I can’t imagine the work you must have put into finding me.”

“Yeah,” Abriel shrugs. “Goodnight, Sascha. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I’m left alone, in the small, strange room. It’s weird, I can hear them down the hall, Abriel and Lisa, and they don’t sound happy. Not the best time for me to have dropped in, but I’m sure they’ll get over it. Married couples bicker, right?

I start to unpack my few belongings, marveling at how impressed Abriel was by what I brought with me. At best, I have maybe a third of the clothes that Cashiel bought me, but it’s clear they won’t all fit in the tiny closet or the tiny dresser provided. I sigh as I rearrange some of them in one of the suitcases, figuring I can just stack it on top of the dresser for a while. Until… well, I don’t know until what, because I have no idea what is planned for me. The old sense of fear and vulnerability threatens to take hold, as I realize that my life is again in someone else’s hands. But it’s all right, because it’s Abriel. I think.

I always thought I would be safe if I was with my brother, but I have never felt more like a slave.

Chapter 12
Home

I wake up the next morning with the sun in my eyes. The bedroom that Cash and I share, or I guess,
shared
is more accurate now, that had a beautiful view, but it also had a beautiful set of blinds and curtains. No such luck, here. I glance at my watch, surprised by how late it is. I didn’t sleep well last night, too full of confusion and unanswered questions and paranoid thoughts.

The fact that it has been weeks since I’ve slept alone didn’t help.

I lie in bed until the call of nature forces me up, and I stumble to the bathroom. Returning to my new bedroom, I get dressed and comb my hair, delaying the inevitable. Finally, I head toward the kitchen where I can hear Lisa and a small child speaking. Bella. My niece. It’s still amazing to think that I’m an uncle; Abriel is a dad. Weren’t we just kids? Being parents and uncles is something adults do. How is my brother doing this already? He’s only twenty-two, the same as I am; he should be partying and looking at graduate schools. Isn’t that what life is supposed to be for free people?

I enter the room quietly, wishing Abriel was with me as I sit at the table. A little girl sits across from me, coloring neatly on a page full of block letters and numbers. Three goddamned years old, and already preparing for the Assessment. I remember Abriel and I doing the same activities at her age, except Abriel colored more neatly and quietly than I did, and I was more interested in writing the letters on my own and finding out why they had been given stupid names like “double u” when it was clearly a “double v.”

“Hi there,” I manage, hoping today will go better than last night. I get to meet the next generation of my family, and that thought alone brightens my mood. “You must be Bella.”

The girl looks up at me, her expression cold and dismissive. It’s frighteningly similar to the one I saw on her mother’s face last night. “Slave,” she announces, as if it answers everything.

Maybe it does.

Lisa walks in, her lips pressed tightly together. She places a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “You may call him ‘Slave Sascha,’ darling.” Her eyes are on me as she says it, almost challenging.

No, not “Uncle Sascha” or anything.

“Slaves sit on the floor,” Bella announces, calmly picking up another crayon. “Like at Grampa’s house.”

“Daddy has different rules for our house, Bella,” Lisa corrects her mildly. “We’ve talked about different rules, haven’t we?”

“Yes, mommy,” Bella answers obediently before holding out her paper. “Look, mommy, I colored the ‘B’ blue, because that’s what blue starts with, and that’s what my name starts with!”

“Good girl,” Lisa smiles, petting her head.

“Good. Girl. Green!” Bella announces. “I’m gonna color the ‘G’ green! I bet I know more than Slave Sascha about letters.”

It seems my niece is quite a little bitch. “Wait till you get to ‘Z,’” I mutter.

Lisa glares at me. “I suppose
you
are hungry?”

“Yeah, we kind of missed dinner last night,” I shrug, figuring Abriel just forgot or something. He always did tend to be the type to get caught up in things. Both of us did, really, and yesterday was definitely pretty exciting. I can see how we forgot dinner. “We should have stopped for something on the way home last night.”

“My husband missed dinner because he went to pick
you
up the moment he received the message letting him know where you were,” Lisa informs me. “I’ve told him plenty of times that if he can’t make time to eat a healthy dinner with his own family, he certainly doesn’t need to waste money eating from some restaurant.”

“Oh…” I say, unsure of how to respond. It’s one thing that slaves are starved, but when did it become okay to do this to a free person? How is my brother putting up with this? “I, uh… I guess I missed breakfast, too?”

Lisa frowns. “Well, Abriel insisted I keep something for you, but in the future, if you can’t bother to make it up for breakfast, you can wait until lunch.”

She disappears behind a wall, and I try to hide the shock on my face. Either she’s a rotten bitch, or I’ve inconvenienced her beyond belief with the simple act of existing.

She returns quickly with a bowl of oatmeal and a plate with scrambled eggs and toast. It’s obvious they’ve been sitting out getting cold, but I figure it’s wiser not to complain. I hate oatmeal, but I don’t want to risk offending her and being sentenced to starve.

I force myself to eat, rising quickly to clear the dishes away when I’ve finished. “I can cook, you know, if you want some help around here.”

“I am perfectly able to take care of this house by myself,” Lisa snaps. “Who do you think has been taking care of Bella and her father for the past four years? I don’t need some charity case slave trying to poison us.”

“Right,” I agree. “Just thought I could be helpful.”

“Well, thinking obviously isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

I don’t bother to respond. If she wants to treat me like shit, fine, but I’m not going to participate in it.

“Don’t think you can just sit around and do nothing,” she warns, despite the fact that she just snapped at me for offering help. “Your brother might accept that, but I most certainly won’t. There are plenty of things that could be cleaned around here, and some laundry to be done. I suppose you can be useful; it will free up more time for me to get Bella ready to start school.”

“Okay,” I shrug, hoping that if I just seem helpful enough, I can thaw out her frosty meanness. Maybe she resents me for taking Abriel away from her, hell, maybe she resents our whole family for getting her knocked up. I’m no therapist, and I’m certainly no mind reader. But I can tell she doesn’t like me.