Page 16 of Conform
“No,” he said simply, remaining in my chair. “I don’t need any help.”
“Then, what are you doing here?” I asked. “Why move my desk?”
“I moved the desk so you weren’t caged in the corner. You’re welcome. As to why I’m here—you offered.” His gaze shifted to the flowers before landing on the card in his hand. “Unless the offer has changed now that you’re in a Procreation Contract?”
I glanced at the clock. “How long have you been here?”
“About an hour,” he told me, glancing at the card once more. “But who’s counting. Not me. The Illum probably is. They do love numbers and monitoring everything.”
I cursed, bringing my wrist up to the wall to scan in. I was late. The ding clanged through me.
“I assume that card came with the flowers,” I said, tossing my bag loudly on my desk, “and that you read it.”
“I did. It’s the most exciting thing to happen to a guy like me. Care to hear it?” he asked, standing, his impressive frame eating up all the space in the room.
“I can read it myself,” I gritted out, attempting to grab it from him. He was too quick, lifting the card high in the air, out of my reach. “Are you fucking kidding me!”
Hal chuckled. “Swears and late to work. I am shocked.” I made a futile swipe at the card, my chest brushing against his. He stood casually, his arm still over his head, looking down at me, those starburst eyes staring at my matching ones.
“Emeline, these flowers pale in comparison to your beauty.”
I stared up at him, blinking rapidly. Heat blossomed deep in my core.
“Something befitting the most beautiful thing in the room. To more indecent sounds.” I recoiled, realizing my mistake. He was reciting the card. They were Collin’s words. “ ‘Indecent sounds’?” Hal asked, handing me the card as he stepped away.
“The food was really good,” I blurted out.
Footsteps scuffed across the floor outside my room. One moment, Hal stood before me. The next, I turned to find him crammed between the open door and the wall. I hadn’t even heard him move.
A man in dark gray came to my open door, holding a stack of papers. “I have an urgent delivery for Ms. Emeline.”
“Yes, that’s me.” I took the papers from him. The man’s eyes flickered around the room.
“I shall return in an hour to collect the signed documents,” he stated, then left.
I glanced at the first paper, the Illum’s golden insignia at the top.
Procreation Agreement between M17292834 and F13463233.
“Is that your Procreation Contract?” Hal asked a moment later, leaning against the empty doorway. I nodded, fishing around in my bag for a pen. “Are you going to sign it without reading through it?” he asked incredulously.
“We discussed it last night,” I answered, flipping through the pages, looking for the signature line.
“So you don’t care to read the steps you agree to take if you are unsuccessful in three moons? You don’t care to know what happens after six moons of being barren or if a pregnancy doesn’t extend to ten moons and it results in fetal demise?” Hal asked, his voice dark.
I looked up at him, my pen poised to sign. “Why do you know any of that?”
“The Elite’s horror stories filter their way down, even to us.”
I glanced between him and the contract. “Then you know that it doesn’t matter what this says. I have no say,” I told him, signing it.
Hal just looked at me as if he were seeing me plainly. “I see the Academy did its job on you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I fired back, fuming.
“Yes, I do,” Hal stated. “They have made thousands of women just like you. Brainwashed and compliant to a cause you know nothing about. You’re a plaything.”
His words landed squarely in my chest, knocking the air from me. “I am a Minor Defect,” I bit out. “You act like I have a choice in any of this. It doesn’t matter what this says. I have to sign. If I don’t sign this, if I am unsuccessful in any way, I’ll be in blue—”
