Page 34 of All Ghosts Aren’t Dead (The Forgotten #1)

“Well rehearsed,” Ezekiel called. “I have to wonder, Bailey, will he still love you once he knows what you are? How long before he sees the rot and sends you back to me for cleansing?”

I flinched.

Daddy’s hand firmed at my neck—his body shielding mine. “Don’t listen to him,” he murmured. “Eyes on me, baby boy. You’re safe.”

“No.”

I wasn’t safe.

Not if he was here.

“You belong to me,” Ezekiel taunted. “You were born of sin. I only ever tried to fix you.”

He stepped forward, one foot, then the other, each step landing with a wet, slapping thud. His robes dragged behind him, catching puddles and soaking up the dirt.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Both hands were folded neatly behind his back, the way they always were when he was about to give a sermon.

Around his neck, the cross swung with each step he took, and I nearly gagged at the look on his face—the way his eyes were locked right on me.

He smiled, but it was ugly, and it stretched too wide, like maybe his skin just didn’t fit his bones.

“He’s going to hurt me,” I whispered.

“The fuck he is.” Daddy leveled his gun on him, thumb twitching against the trigger.

“Go ahead and kill me.” Ezekiel clicked his tongue. “Do you think I am the only chosen? Do you think there are no more compounds? Oh, dear Jonah, do you think you saved all those children? You’re not a savior, son, you’re a sinner.”

Jonah froze.

The gun in his hand lowered just enough for me to see the shake in his wrist.

“No,” he muttered. “No, we got them all.”

“My boy, no, you did not. There are hundreds of children just like you and your brother, awaiting punishment.”

Jonah jerked like the words hit him, and then he took a step forward, gun rising again. “You’re lying.”

“I never lie, Jonah. Not to my sons.”

“ Don’t call me that.”

“JJ.” I reached for him, but my fingers didn’t make it.

He was trembling—chest heaving and eyes glassy, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream or cry or shoot.

“They were just kids,” he whispered. “I—I tried. I tried to get them all?—”

“I know you did,” Ezekiel cooed. “And some were even saved. But not because of you, Jonah. No, no, their salvation was earned by blood.”

Jonah made a sound then—ugly and broken.

Daddy shifted forward. “Drop the act, asshole. Get on your knees.”

“Knees?” he echoed. “You think I kneel for anyone but God?”

“You’ll kneel for me, you sick fuck.” Daddy’s jaw twitched. “Or I’ll put a fucking bullet in your temple.”

“Such vulgarity.” Ezekiel tsked. “Go ahead. Shoot me. But then what? You think I’m the only one? You think this place is the end?” His eyes flicked to Jonah. “You got those children out. Good boy. Brave boy. But there are more. There will always be more.”

Jonah shook his head. “No.”

“You didn’t end the mission,” Ezekiel said. “You only carved off one limb. The body lives on. The Church grows, my son. You can burn down every chapel you see, but the fire will never touch the roots.”

The words hit like bullets.

Jonah didn’t answer—not out loud—but I saw the flicker behind his eyes. The question he was asking. What if he’s telling the truth?

Ezekiel watched him closely. Unmoving.

He just stood there at the edge of the tunnel light, his chin slightly tipped like he was studying us.

Then, without a word, his shoulders shifted.

One hand slid out from behind his back.

The movement was quiet and careful—the kind of careful that made my stomach cramp up. He wasn’t trying to scare us—just… show us.

Something hung from his fist—a rosary, but not the kind they made us pray with. These beads were bigger, blackened, and splintered at the edges. The crucifix on the end had been sharpened into a spike, wrapped in wire, and stained a dark, sticky brown.

Ezekiel let it sway, just enough for the light to catch on the sharpened edge.

Jonah’s breath changed.

“Remember this, my boy?” Ezekiel hummed. “Remember the way you wore it as a collar?”

Jonah’s grip on the gun Daddy gave him faltered, and then his whole body stiffened.

“JJ?” I whispered.

I saw it in his face then —the fear. The kind that sinks into your bones and makes them forget how to bend.

It was the same fear I used to wear when I wanted to scream but my mouth wouldn’t work.

Jonah was afraid , and the part of me that still believed Jonah was unbreakable cracked wide open.

If Jonah wasn’t, maybe I didn’t have to be either.

“Get away from him!” I shouted, though my voice wobbled.

Ezekiel turned his gaze on me.

“Oh, Bailey,” he purred. “So loud, now that you have someone to hide behind.”

“I’m not hiding,” I said, but I kind of was. Daddy’s body was the only thing keeping me upright.

Ezekiel’s smile widened. “Then let’s test that.”

His other arm lifted.

Another object dangled from his hand, unspooling as he raised it higher and higher. It was a leather lash, cracked, worn, and knotted at the end.

Jonah flinched before it even moved.

“You remember this one, too, don’t you, Jonah?” he murmured. “You screamed so much, I almost thought you’d repent.”

The lash twitched in Ezekiel’s hand, and then he moved.

Fast.

Arm raised, he spun toward JJ, and for just a second, I thought it was happening again. He was going to hurt my big brother right here and make me watch, like no time had passed at all.

I barely had time to scream before it snapped sideways.

Crack!

It hit Daddy.

No no no.

The sound it made was sickening—flesh and force meeting with too much certainty.

Daddy’s body jerked, his shoulders twisting with the force. The lash caught him full across the chest, right under the ribs. Legs nearly giving out, he slapped a hand to the wound, growling.

Pained grunts punched out of him, one after another, like all the air had been knocked loose. Blood burst through the rip in his shirt.

Arm surging outward, he braced himself against the tunnel wall, struggling to stay upright. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

I swayed, eyes wet as I stared at his chest. Blood was everywhere, running down his ribs like his body had been split open just to prove I could still be broken.

Hell. No.

Not my Daddy.

An ugly sound tore out of me, and I charged forward, heart shaking so hard it felt like it might fall out of me. “Don’t touch my Daddy!”

I didn’t care that I didn’t have my rifle aimed, didn’t care that my hands were too small or my body too soft or that I’d been trembling just seconds ago.

I was going to kill him.

Kill him…

Kill him!

“I hate you!”

A hand lurched out and yanked me backward by my shirt.

“No!” Daddy barked. “Bailey, don’t you dare. Stay behind me.”

I flailed, pounding my fists against his arm. “He hurt you! He hurt you and you let him and I? — ”

“I’m okay,” Daddy gritted out, holding me tight. “I’m okay, baby.”

“No, you’re not! You’re bleeding and you’re shaking, and I saw it , I saw him hit you, and I felt it in my bones. He’s going to kill you and I can’t— I can’t ?—”

“Breathe.” He crouched, ignoring the fresh wave of blood wetting his shirt. His voice softened, even as his face twisted with pain. “Baby, please, look at me. Just look.”

My whole body was shaking.

He reached for me with his unbloodied hand and cupped the back of my neck again, grounding me even while he bled.

“You breathing?” he whispered.

I hiccupped a breath.

“That’s all I need. As long as you’re breathing, baby, so am I . You got it?”

I nodded, fast and messy.

“You’re not gonna lose me.” His voice cracked. “You hear me? You’re not.”

Behind him, Ezekiel raised the lash again.

I lunged , but Daddy moved faster.

Arm snapping upward, the second blow caught him across the shoulder and back of the neck.

Somehow, the sound was worse than it was the first time.

“Stop it!” I howled, hands balled into fists at my sides. “ Please. Stop hurting him. Hurt me! ”

“No.” Daddy’s knees buckled… but he didn’t fall.

Hard eyes locked on Ezekiel. “You don’t get to touch him ever again.”

“You’re bleeding,” I sobbed. “You’re bleeding and I can’t—I can’t stop it?—”

“You don’t need to stop it, baby. You just stay with me. That’s all I need.”

“How many beatings will he take for you, Bailey? How many lashes before he decides you’re not worth the pain?”

“All of them,” Daddy snarled, raising his gun with a steady arm. “Every goddamn one.”

Boom.

The gunshot punched through the tunnel.

Ezekiel jerked sideways with a snarl of pain, blood spraying from his thigh. He staggered, his eyes locked on Daddy, but then narrowing on Daddy’s gun. Cold and unfired.

Eyes cutting through the darkness, I saw the shape move in behind Ezekiel—gun raised, chest heaving.

Simon.

“That’s enough,” he spat. “You twisted piece of shit.”

Jonah moved next.

One. Two. Three. Four.

He crossed the distance in four furious steps, cocked back his leg, and kicked Ezekiel square in the chest. The impact slammed him backward into the wall, his body hitting the stone with a sick thud. He grunted as he slumped down, coughing and gasping.

Jonah stood over him, breath ragged. With one, vicious swipe, he tore the cross from Ezekiel’s neck and flung it somewhere down the tunnel. “I hope your God leaves you here to rot.”

I barely noticed the blood on my hands— Daddy’s blood —until he leaned into me, forehead dropping to my temple, his breath hot against my cheek.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispered. “You stayed with me.”

I nodded a hundred million times.

“I’m okay. You hear me? I’m okay because you are.”

I wanted to believe it.

I promise I did.

Pressing my face into his shoulder, I cried as he cradled the back of my head.

Behind us, Simon kicked Ezekiel’s weapon away and muttered, “He’s still breathing. What do you want to do with him?”

Daddy didn’t look away from me. “Take him.”

Jonah choked. “What the fuck?”

“We take him back to the manor. Lock him up, tie him to a chair. You can kill him on the spot, or torture him for days. I don’t fucking care, but this choice is yours. Yours and Blue’s. You decide how this ends.”

I felt my knees give, but Daddy caught me, held me, even while hurt and bleeding, like I was the only thing that mattered.

“It’s over, Blue baby.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”

“Let’s go home, sweetheart,” he murmured, and then spoke into the comms. “Rune, light this place up.”