CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #2
‘No – That can’t – No.’ I shook my head.
A gasp tore out of me and I struggled to draw breath.
Cas was my Pain Giver. The one person I hated more than anything, who was responsible for the torture flooding my veins, was the same boy I’d spent yesterday with in total, unadulterated bliss.
The boy I’d fallen for. I hadn’t known this would be our future.
I hadn’t thought I’d needed to list him on my application.
‘We live too close …’ My voice cracked.
Ms Powers smiled. ‘There’s no need for tears. Mr Fox spent the evening convincing the Dominion’s board of directors not to pursue the prosecution – this time. Instead, he had the delightful idea of a coordinated interview response in exchange for charges being waived. We assume that works for you?’
Half a million dollars or five to ten years in jail. Somehow, this was my fault. Another flare blazed through me, but pain wasn’t the only thing burning my skin. Mr Fox hadn’t said a word, only watched me.
One interview and Dominion would walk away. What was I supposed to say? What would a journalist even ask? I was seconds away from throwing up, trapped in a car with Albert Fox and his grandson’s disease raging in my veins.
Mr Fox finally spoke. ‘From what Castor explained, you met prior to his first flare. The press has twisted this into an unethical use of the Freedom System, but we can position it as what it truly was. You two met, fell for one another. When you learned of Castor’s affliction, you did what many others have done – you signed up to become a Pain Carrier.
When the match occurred, you agreed to waive the proximity agreement and your anonymity. ’
I scrunched my brows, unable to hide my confusion. I’d never do that. I wasn’t some love-crazed girl. I’d done this for my family. ‘You want me to lie?’ I said slowly.
‘What I want is for us to take control of the narrative.’ He folded his hands. ‘Yvonne Meadows is the most respected, most awarded journalist of her generation. And a family friend. She’s agreed to run an exclusive with you. For which you’ll be compensated. That should resolve everything.’
I wanted to laugh. He laid it out like it was the simplest thing in the world.
This was Castor’s grandfather. Aside from how they moved through life – with carefree ease – they were nothing alike.
Mr Fox’s solution was to lie and throw money to bury the truth.
I weighed my options, but I had none. ‘Any loopholes?’
Mr Fox chuckled. ‘I hope my grandson hasn’t told you stories that would make our family sound ruthless. I’m here to temper Ms Powers. I told her Castor wouldn’t have fallen for a girl who wasn’t sensible.’
I hated the way he spoke – how carefully he crafted his words.
This was where Cas got his charm, though his grandfather wielded it like a weapon.
I fought the urge to push back and demand answers.
How did this even happened? Cas had gone from telling the world he had helical disease with no match in sight to being pain-free two days later.
What happened in between – Oh. My eyes widened.
I ran through the timeline. His interview had been on a Sunday.
As much as Cas had tried to play it off, the next day he’d almost drowned trying to surf.
Then his miracle match had come through – Cas’s life back on track.
The Foxes must’ve broken the rules for him.
I didn’t mention Cas on my intake form so they didn’t know our worlds had already collided.
That one omission paved the way for them to shift the blame.
I struggled to unravel how I felt. His family had done what I would’ve done for Skye.
But it had been so easy for them. And they had a choice, whereas I didn’t.
I couldn’t say no. Never mind my future – I couldn’t leave Daddy and Leo and Skye behind.
They needed me. They needed my Pain Carrier money.
‘One interview? And I’d stay Cas’s Carrier?’
Mr Fox smirked. ‘Of course. We won’t take those payments from you. We can get it out the way now, if that works for your schedule. There’ll be an NDA detailing everything.’
‘Of course.’ I said the words as numbness took over.
It was the only way through this. What made it worse was that Cas wasn’t here.
He had no idea this was happening. I was sure that was by design – to protect him.
This was all for the benefit of Castor Fox.
To hide the fact that his family had broken the rules for him, at my expense.
‘Lastly, Dominion has a gala next weekend – an appreciation celebration for Pain Carriers. We’d like to have you as our guest.’
I stared out the window. My hot-pink solar bike sat under the carport. Everything else around my house was old and worn, but in a warm, loving way. As bright as it was, the bike felt cold. Like it didn’t belong. Because it didn’t belong.
Just like I didn’t belong in the back of this SUV. This was Castor’s world. But I had no choice. ‘One interview, one gala. Then I’m done, if that pleases you.’
My hellflare subsided, and I let a single tear fall. I knew getting involved with Cas would break my heart. This conversation had shattered it. I had no agency. Because of his blood, and his pain. I’d never felt hurt like this before. I never wanted to feel it again.
Mr Fox inclined his head, as if he were a gentleman. ‘I understand.’
Ms Powers grinned that disgusting smile and made a call. ‘Bring the crew around.’
I moved through the next few hours numb. Ms Powers and her crew piled into my house, transforming it for the interview. I told Daddy everything. He protested at first, but once he’d had a moment to digest it, he calmed and just held me.
‘I didn’t want this for you,’ he whispered. ‘I know why you entered the Freedom System, but I should’ve voiced my worries more. With the protests growing …’ He sighed, holding me tighter. ‘I can still kick everyone out. It’s my house. I didn’t sign an NDA.’
I smiled for him, but it didn’t reach my eyes. ‘I know. But we need this.’
He sucked in a breath, then nodded. ‘I hate that you had to grow up so fast.’
I did too.
Within the hour, our kitchen transformed into a dressing room.
Racks of clothes lined the hallway, and a lit mirror sat atop our table.
I checked the door every few minutes, hoping Cas would show.
I texted and left messages. He never came.
I glanced up from rereading my last unanswered text and found two stylists looking me over from head to toe.
‘Let’s get this over with, shall we?’ I wiped my eyes and forced a smile. I hated that I had no way out. I hated that Leo and Skye weren’t here. I hated that Cas had no idea any of this was happening. I hated that this was his family’s fault. I hated everything.
Ms Powers gestured to the shorter of the two stylists.
‘This is Daniele – they/them pronouns, please. Daniele, let’s go for something muted, understated.
Nova’s a community college student, but I want her to read NorCal Dominion.
We have some time until the youngest Miss Williams gets home from school, so make it fast. No need to disrupt this family’s schedule any more than we already have.
’ She tapped a few notes on her holoscreen and left us alone.
Ms Powers knew everything about me, and used it for the Foxes’ benefit. I hated that too.
I stared blankly ahead as Daniele circled me.
Their hair and skin were pearl white with an almost translucent sheen.
A sequined top hung effortlessly off one shoulder, and it shouldn’t have worked with their houndstooth bottoms, but it did.
They debated silhouettes before settling on wide-leg bottoms, chunky peep-toe heels, and a structured muted green blouse.
I dressed, surprised by how well everything fit.
But my reflection took my breath away.
I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me.
My life had been chaos for so long, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked this put together.
Most likely Mom’s funeral, ten years ago.
She died after Skye’s birth. I hadn’t understood the whispers then, but they rushed back to me now.
Daddy had been so angry. The doctors hadn’t listened when Mom described her pain.
Women like her – Black women – were supposed to be stronger, to have a greater pain tolerance.
We lived in a different part of South Alta then, one with high rates of opioid abuse.
There wasn’t a single trace of anything in Mom’s system, but the doctors assumed she’d lied for a hit.
Her death was preventable.
What would she say to me if she were here? She’d respected Pain Carriers, from what I remembered. What would Mom have thought about both her daughters being plagued by pain – one of them now being made up like a doll for the sake of her Pain Giver, her autonomy stripped away?
I don’t want to do this. I didn’t want to go on camera and have the world judge me for being a Pain Carrier – or worse, Cas’s Pain Carrier. I wasn’t a lovestruck girl. I’d done this for me and my family. My life. I wanted control back.
‘Do you … like it?’ asked Daniele.
‘I look beautiful. Like my mom.’
‘Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous,’ they said, before motioning to the other stylist. ‘All yours, Ugo.’ Then they left the room.
I forced myself into the older Black woman’s make-up chair, trying to breathe through my hurt. I felt exposed, unwillingly. I wanted to leave, run. I blinked, a protestor’s poster flashing behind my eyelids: IS THE SYSTEM REALLY YOUR CHOICE WHEN LIFE MAKES YOU DESPERATE ENOUGH TO SAY YES?
Ugo stepped forward and got to work. She cleansed my skin and applied a tinted moisturizer I could never afford. ‘It’ll block any hellflare for the cameras. Della thought it might distract viewers. She wants you to come across looking stronger.’
I didn’t want to look stronger. I didn’t want to be strong.