Page 34 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)

Pailtyn

I t’s dark. The only light comes through a gap in the curtains.

Gunther isn’t here. I don’t know where he is, where he’s gone, but I’m certain no one is in the bed beside me.

I don’t know what woke me, but I lay there, thinking about him, my husband, about this life, about how many months of this, how many years I will have to endure.

Will he grow angry enough one time to do serious damage? I’m certain he’ll break my bones eventually. Will he kill me? Will he lose what little grasp he has on reality and in one act of barbarity, will he butcher me?

I shudder, already knowing the answer to that question. Knowing it in my heart.

This man will kill me.

It’s inevitable. It’s as certain as the sun shining in the day and the moon shining at night.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to let that happen, but I have no way of preventing it. I can’t try to escape because the few times I’m allowed out of my room, I’m followed everywhere.

I’ve done my best to appease him, I’ve done everything my mother has suggested. Nothing works. Nothing helps.

I feel so helpless and trapped, and I know there’s a tiny part of me that already recognises that death might not be the bad option in all of this.

I let out a sob. A sound so pitiful, I hate myself more for making it.

“Ssssh.” Someone says, stroking my cheek.

I cry out, jerking back at the stranger’s gruff voice, at their unfamiliar touch.

Who the hell is in here? How did they get past the guards? Did my husband do this, did he decide to let another person use me? I’m in his bed, normally he has me taken somewhere else when he wants to whore me out.

“Guthrie?” My husband half-growls from the doorway.

The fear I feel at the sound of that name is indescribable.

I know who he is, everyone knows who he is.

The man is infamous. Notorious. The only reason he’s not in Oblivion is because of who his brother is, that Gunther being Chapter Lord has allowed Guthrie to get away with things that would have better men executed.

But why is he here? Why is he in the country, in my room? My panic escalates as I start thinking of all the reasons, all those nasty little reasons that could answer it.

The light comes on, covering me in brightness, blinding me with it.

I cover my face, cover myself, only this man’s hand grabs at the fabric to try to stop it.

“What are you doing here?” Gunther asks.

“Such a pretty thing.” Guthrie replies, trying to expose more of me. “You didn’t tell me she was so nice to look at.”

Gunther grunts, running his eyes over me as if I’m a harlot. A temptress. The very spawn of Satan.

“Come, we have things to discuss.” Gunther states.

The man shakes his head slightly, but he gets to his feet. “Why don’t you have your pretty wife come sit with us?” He murmurs as he walks up to him. “She can entertain us while we work.”

Gunther narrows his eyes like he’s offended. Like he suddenly gives a shit about me. “She’s off-limits to you.” He snaps, pointing his fat little finger at him.

“Brother?”

“You heard me. You don’t lay a hand on her.”

The man bristle more, before casting me one last, almost lecherous look.

As they slide the panel doors together, I try to calm myself, taking slow deliberate breaths, as if that’s every worked before.

I can hear them talking. I can hear the anger, the tone, all of it.

“You didn’t even tell me you were back.” Gunther hisses loud enough for almost the entire Palace to hear.

“How could I? The phones are tapped. Anyone could have heard and who knows what they would have done with that information.” Guthrie replies.

I creep out of the bed, creep to where the gap in the panels is, and I peer through, watching them both.

He has the same podgy nose, the same beady eyes, only, while my husband seems able to hide the mania, this man seems to have it written all over him, like it’s etched into the very fabric of his skin.

“They’ve been here again.” Gunther says, running his hands down his face. “I see them. I see their shadows. I see them creeping about, scuttling about when they think I’m not looking.”

Guthrie nods so sombrely.

“Have the guards found anything, any evidence?” He asks

“Nothing.” Gunther replies, half-snarling. “But it’s not like I expect them too. They’re tricksy, clever, they know how to hide themselves.”

“And the girl?” Guthrie says, jerking his head towards the door I’m half-hidden behind.

“What about her?” Gunther says, narrowing his eyes, sounding suddenly jealous, suddenly possessive, as if he has forcibly shared me with enough men to start a circus.

“She’s not said anything? Not seen anything? What if she’s a part of it too?”

“She’s a stupid little whore.” Gunther states dismissively.

“The only good part about her is her cunt. I doubt there’s anything beyond air between those ears.

No, the girl knows nothing. And she’s definitely not clever enough to be tied into this, because there’s no way she’d have the brains to hide it from me. ”

Guthrie nods, glancing over his brother’s shoulder as he now paces back and forth.

I don’t know if he can see me, if he can tell that I’m stood here but it’s enough to make me nervous.

I try to walk back but I’m so fearful of making a move, of catching the light, of doing something to give myself away.

“They can’t do anything.” Guthrie says suddenly. “You have the power. We have the power. Let them try to take us on because we will crush them.”

“What ‘we’ is this?” Gunther snarls. “I am Chapter Lord, me…” He thumps his chest with his fists like he’s trying to be Tarzan.

“I meant, brother, that we will fight them together.” Guthrie replies, clearly trying to calm him. “That you can depend upon me. Can trust me.”

Gunther stares at him like he doesn’t quite understand the words coming out of his mouth. He starts murmuring, twitching just a little.

“Brother?” Guthrie says, cautiously.

Gunther blinks rapidly, like he’s just come out of a deep sleep and needs a moment to figure out where he is. “Guthrie?” He says before his face darkens. “No one can know. Do you understand me? No one.”

Guthrie nods, moving to stand in front of him, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“No one.” Gunther repeats again.

“It’s our secret. Ours.”

What the fuck are they talking about? What secret is this? A voice in my head tells me that if I can find this out, then I can use this as leverage, hell, this might even be the very thing I need to escape this place.

“Sleep, brother.” Guthrie says quietly. “You look worn out. You look tired. No doubt you’ve been up most nights fucking that young wife of yours.”

Gunther nods, and a great big, ridiculous grin spreads across his face. “Her cunt is divine.” He states.

Guthrie laughs, slapping him on the back. “Then I suggest you go and reacquaint yourself with it. Leave this to me.” He gestures to what I realise are papers strewn about on the table, though neither of them have so much as looked at them until now.

Maybe tomorrow, maybe once Gunther has left, I might be able to sneak a peek, might be able to see what the fuck they’re talking about.

That hope instantly dies as Guthrie scoops them all up in his beady little hands.

“Sleep, brother.” He repeats and I’m quick to tiptoe back to the bed, quick to get in and lie there, before I hear those doors sliding open again.