Sinners 01 - Branded (2 page)

“Don’t move. This will only take a few minutes. It’s time for you to be branded.”

A wet cloth that smells like rubbing alcohol is used to clean my skin. Then he places
a metal collar around my neck.

Click. Click. Click.

The collar locks into place, and I struggle to breathe. The doctor loosens it some
as I focus on the painted, black words above me.

The Seven Deadly Sins:

Lust
Blue

Gluttony
Orange

Greed
Yellow

Sloth
Black

Wrath
Red

Envy
Green

Pride
Purple

“Memorize it. Might keep you alive longer if you know who to stay away from.” He opens
my mouth, placing a bit inside. “Bite this.”

Within seconds, the collar heats from hot to scorching. The smell of flesh sizzling
makes my head spin. I bite down so hard a tooth cracks.

“GRRRRRRRRR,” escapes from deep within my chest. Just when I’m about to pass out,
the temperature drops, and the doctor loosens the collar.

He removes it and sits me up. Excruciating pain rips through me, and I’m on the verge
of a mental and physical breakdown.
Focus. Don’t pass out.

Stainless steel counters and boring white walls press in on me. A guard laughs at
me from an observation room above and yells, “Blue. It’s a great color for a pretty
young thing like yourself.” His eyes dance with suggestion. The others meander around
like it’s business as usual.

I finally find my voice and turn to the doctor.

“Are you going to give me clothes?” A burning pain spreads like fire up from my neck
to my jaw, making me wince.

He points to a set of folded gray scrubs on a chair
.
I cover myself as much as I can and scurry sideways. Grabbing my clothes and pulling
the shirt over my head, I try to avoid the raw meat around my throat. I quickly knot
the cord of my pants around my waist and slide my feet into the hospital-issue slippers
as the doctor observes. He hands me a bag labeled with my name.

“Nothing is allowed through the door but what we’ve given you,” he says.

I hide my right hand behind me, hoping no one notices. A guard scans my body and opens
his hand.

“Give it to me,” he says. “Don’t make me rip off your finger.” He crouches down and
I turn to stone. I don’t know what to do, so I beg.

“My father gave this to me. Please, let me keep it.” I smash my eyes shut and think
of the moment my father handed the golden ring to me.

“It was my mother’s ring,” he’d said. “She’s the strongest woman I ever knew.” With
tears in his eyes, he reached for my hand and said, “Lexi, you’re exactly like her.
She’d want you to wear this. No matter how this world changes, you can survive.” I
turned the gold band over in my palm and read the engraving.

You can overcome anything… short of death.

“You’re going to take the one thing that matters the most to me?” I say, glaring into
the guard’s emotionless eyes. “Isn’t it enough taking my life, dignity, and respect?”

A hard blow falls upon my back. As I fall, my hands shoot out to stop me from smashing
into the wall in front of me. The guard bends down and grabs my chin with his meaty
fist.

“Look at me,” he commands.
I look up and he smiles with arrogance.

“What the hell?” He staggers a step backward. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong
with your eyes?”

“Nothing,” I respond, confused.

“What color are they?”

“Turquoise.” I glower at him.

“Interesting,” he says, regaining his composure. “Now those’ll get you in trouble.”

Reality slaps me across the face. I have my father’s eyes. They can’t take them from
me. I twist the ring off my finger and drop it in his hand.

“Take the damn ring,” I say. I walk to the door. He swipes a card and the massive
door slides open to the outside.

“You have to wear your hair back at all times, so everyone knows what you are.” He
hands me a tie, so I pull my frizzy hair away from my face and secure it into a ponytail.
My neck burns and itches as my hand traces the scabs that have already begun to form.
Squinting ahead in the darkness, I almost run into a guard standing on the sidewalk.

“Watch where you’re going,” he says, shoving me backward. His stiff figure stands
tall and I cringe at the sharpness of his voice.

“Cole, this is your new assignment, Lexi Hamilton. See to it she feels welcome in
her new home.” The guard departs with a salute.

“Let’s move,” Cole says.

I take two steps and collapse, my knees giving out. The unforgiving pavement reopens
the scrapes from earlier and I struggle to stand. A powerful arm snatches me up, and
I see his face for the first time.

Our eyes meet. I get lost in a pool of darkness, unable to distinguish where his pupils
begin and where they end. I notice a thin scar that runs through the right corner
of his upper lip. I wonder how he got it
.
His brown hair, shaved close to his head, is faded at the top in a military-style
cut. The angular shape of his face becomes more pronounced when he clenches his jaw.
For a moment we’re both still, looking at each other.

He gives me a pained look. “Get in the Jeep,” he says with a flat tone.

Oh sure.

My hands are slick with sweat, unable to hold on to the handle, and I stumble backward,
landing on a rock that sends shooting pains up my back. I grit my teeth and push up.
I hear an irritated exhalation as Cole opens the door. He grabs my waist and I lunge
forward, smacking my head into the door.

He laughs, revealing his dimples, and says, “I’d think you’d be used to being touched.”

Jerk.

I don’t entertain his remark as he lifts me inside the Jeep. He pushes my legs out
of the way before slamming the door shut. I reach up, grab the seatbelt, pull it across
my body, and click it into place. I tug hard to make sure it’s secure. The thick fabric
doesn’t budge, but that doesn’t alleviate my fears of falling out.

Cole doesn’t buckle up; he slams his foot down on the gas, causing the Jeep to bolt
forward. My head snaps back into the headrest, aggravating my neck even more. As we
turn onto the main road, the breeze whips my hair around and I let it carry my mind
with it. My world has completely changed…

Back home, the upper class basks in wealth and their lifestyle is gluttonous with
parties and all the trappings that come along with money. Snobbery abounds. You’d
think since their lifestyle reeks of lavishness, they’d end up accused, but I’ve been
told they pay off the guards to escape judgment
the hypocrites.
Looking at me, you’d never know I’m from the High Society. I’m thin, much too thin.
But not by choice. I was never given a choice, and it seems I may never have the opportunity
to choose anything else in my life.