Page 39 of Doesn't Count

She stops moving and sits as still as she can, though it has the opposite effect than I thought it would. I can feel the excitement growing inside of me when she obeys, and I think she can too.

“Can I ask you questions? Off the record?” She finally speaks, thankfully ignoring the rod she's sitting on.

I nod, hesitantly.

“Why do you guys wear the masks?”

“To hide our identities.” I answer simply.

She rolls her eyes, “Duh, but there’s a deeper reason. I’ve already signed a contract agreeing that I would never sell your faces to the public, yet you still hide from me.”

“I don’t trust you, Eris.”

“Come on, it’s been weeks now and I’ve done nothing to kill your trust. I’ve put up with all your bullshit, let you kiss me, let you... taste me.” She whispers her last words, a fierce blush tainting her skin. “And I don’t even know what you look like.”

I reach up and grab her face, my thumb brushing her pinkening cheeks. “You are such a prude.”

Anger flashes behind those cerulean eyes and sheshuts down like I’ve hit the kill switch. She climbs off of me and I don’t fight her.

“Look, I have trust issues, okay? I’m not saying I’ll never let you in, I’m just not ready.” I explain. “It’s not a vanity thing. I’m not so arrogant that I think if I show my face the whole world will want a piece of me and never leave me alone. I’m... hiding. Okay? It’s crucial that no one knows who I am.”

“Hiding from what? The life you created?” She snarks.

“No. It’s bigger than that. Something you would never understand.”

“I might. We all have issues, Khaos. You’re not the only one.” She crosses her arms.

“Yeah? What kind of issues does a girl like you have? Raised in a wealthy suburb with parents that loved her. Never needing for anything.” I flip up the side of yet another sun dress, this one as blue as her eyes covered in daisies.

“What do you know about how I was raised? Sure, I had a decent home life, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t go through things.” She argues.

“Like what?” I push.

She chuckles darkly but shuts down. Clearly, we’re both hesitant to open up to each other.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is give me some damn time.” I grumble, scooting off the bed and rejoining the guys outside.

Khaos

14 Years Old

“Get up!” A deep voice barrels against the walls, vibrating in the base of my skull.

My head pounds, even after the six hours of sleep I got, which happens to be more than usual.Fatheralways says sleep is for the lazy, but I find myself struggling day to day, forgetting the rules.

“It’s time for worship. Get up!” I feel the heavy-set man they call Bordeaux kick my mattress for the third time.

I groan, pushing up on my hands. “I’m coming.”

It’s been almost a year. Almost a full year with these deranged psychopaths that call themselves the family. Only, they’re not my family. They’re strangers at best and living nightmares at worst. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think about calling them family, but I don’t have a choice.

After slipping into some clothes, I follow Bordeaux up the stairs and away from my concrete prison. It leads us up into the church where everyone else lives. What I’ve come to understand is that there are levels of achievement that grant you different tiers of luxury.

For example, completing your assigned chores is rewarded with meals. Attending worship gatherings grants you one on one time withFather. One on one time withFathergives you special privileges like living in a normal bedroom in the church.

I tend to avoidFatherany chance I get, but I’m not always that lucky. For some reason, he finds it amusing the more I fight against the concept of the family’s beliefs, determined to turn me.

We walk past the bedrooms and the kitchen, passing by the family members getting ready for worship. I try not to make eye contact with anyone, but they all stare at me like I’m the lost one. The damaged one to take pity on. We step into the nave, finding a pew close to the front. Bordeaux’s body odor makes me want to puke, but I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.

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