Unbound (The Braille Club #2) by J. A. Kerr Page B

quickening.
    “Are you working?” she enquired, pointing at his laptop.
    “Yes, I’ve just secured a very interesting commission,” he replied, his eyes dancing once more.
    “What is it that you do, Ford?” asked Niven, intrigued.
    “I’m an engineer, although I have to say, I’ve never come across this particular field before,” he replied rather cryptically.
    “I see,” she replied, still mystified, but he didn’t elaborate.
    “Can I tempt you with something stronger? I’m getting a beer to calm the old nerves,” he stated.
    Niven hesitated. “Yes, a bottle of Bud, please.” She smiled.
    Again Ford approved and studied the beautiful girl opposite him. He wanted to know her better; excited by the thought she could be a member—of the Braille Club.
     
    ***
     
    Niven
     
    Niven was working tomorrow and never usually drank before a shoot, but like Ford, she felt the need of alcohol to calm her. There was an energy surrounding him. A tension Niven sensed but couldn’t understand. She thought about her first lesson with Grace earlier today, it had been hard, the touch alien to her. Afterward, Grace had looked upset and Niven felt responsible. Grace treated her with kindness and compassion. She was possibly the first person to treat Niven like a normal human being. She didn’t want Niven to smile or pose; she only wanted her to listen. When the hood had slipped over her head she hadn’t known what to expect but to her surprise, she liked it. She couldn’t feel the ever-present sensation of people looking at her and it was liberating. Sitting in the darkness she had felt strangely free. When Grace bound her hands she’d been unsure but trusted her.
    As she sat there, she wondered what was next. The music soothed her, and she relaxed until she felt the graze of a fingertip on her lips. It had been intimate and shocking! She screamed, moving instinctively and then burst into tears. Grace had cradled her in her arms as she wept. Niven couldn’t contain her revulsion and fear; her parents and her past having a profound and lasting effect on her. She couldn’t bear to be touched, her mother’s disapproval of that ritual deeply ingrained.
    Gritting her teeth, she dried her tears and forced herself to sit down again. On her insistence they went through the process again, uncertainty evident in Grace’s face as she reluctantly agreed. Niven started by breathing deeply, bracing herself until her mind took over and the verses slipped through her head. When the touch came she was prepared and didn’t flinch. After some time, it became apparent Niven would not move because she appeared to feel nothing at all. When Grace stopped the session, Niven frowned, she wasn’t moving, that was the right thing, wasn’t it? Removing her hood reluctantly, she let her eyes adjust to the light. When she saw Grace’s shocked face, she knew she’d done it wrong—again. Grace explained their time was up. Niven didn’t believe her. She was still worried and confused by her session, so Ford had somehow bypassed her normal defences. She glanced at his smiling face, caught up in his warmth and excitement, but there were two parts to Niven’s life, and she didn’t like either of them.
    She would endure the Braille Club like a therapy session—something she knew well; they had saved her in those early days when she had eventually left home. Her relationship with her mother was extremely complex. Niven learned quickly only complete obedience brought a smile to her adoptive mother’s lips, her normally disapproving mouth transformed momentarily before normal service resumed. Real affection was never on the table, just calculated praise. Never hugged or kissed by her mother, even from a tender age, all Niven could feel was relief. There was something cold inside her mother that truly frightened her, something lifeless behind those eyes that only Niven could see. Others were charmed by her mother’s beauty and aloof responses.