Page 19

T he sound of raised voices cuts through the compound, distant but growing closer. I see commotion by the medical tent, and a chill runs through me. They’ve found Georgia. I duck behind a stack of crates, my heart wild in my chest. I know I have to do this, but it doesn’t make it any easier knowing what is coming.

The alarm bell screams across the night, and I move, darting towards the shadows of the storage buildings. More voices now, angry and searching. I have minutes, maybe less. I press myself against a wall, mostly looking like I’m trying to hide, but actually wanting them to find me. I’m not being careful, not really, but I’m also not making it obvious.

“Over here!” A shout, and then two men appear.

I make a break for it, but they catch me easily, hauling me up, their shouts victorious.

I thrash and squirm, doing my best to get away, but knowing I can’t.

That’s the whole point.

“No,” I screech. “No.”

I’m pulled through the compound, past the growing crowd, past eyes that widen in shock and disbelief. I make a scene the entire time, twisting and cursing, telling them to let me go. I hope that every single camera picks this up, that everyone out there truly sees what monsters these people are.

“Let me go,” I scream. “Please.”

We come to a stop just outside the eating hall, and my father walks out, his long white robe flowing in the cool night air, his eyes intense as he stares down at me with such disappointment. To think I came from this man, and yet, when he looks at me, he feels nothing.

“Where is the child?” His voice is a whip crack, sharp and cruel.

I force myself to hold his gaze, to stand as tall as I can. “Go fuck yourself.”

His hand lashes out, slapping me so hard my head whips to the side and tears burn in my eyes as stinging radiates through my face.

“I will ask you again, daughter. Where is the child?”

I swallow, ignoring the taste of blood on my lip. “Gone. You’ll never see her again.” I breathe out the words like a vow, letting them hang in the air between us. “I told you I was taking her, I’m sorry you were too stupid to believe me.”

I’m pushing his buttons, but that’s the whole point.

I want him mad.

I want his world to stop.

He laughs, low and menacing, as if amused by a child’s tantrum. His hand grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Stupid girl. You think you’ve won?” His voice is a poison. “You’ll never leave this place again, I’ll make sure of it. You might have freed the child, but you, daughter, will never be free again.”

“If that’s meant to scare me, it doesn’t,” I point out, my voice laced with sass.

“It seems you have forgotten what happens to people who disobey me.”

I snort. “The scars on my back say otherwise.”

He sneers. “A reminder then? To the cross with her, let’s show her exactly what she seems to have forgotten.”

Here we go.

Just like I knew he would.

He turns, and like the sheep they are, everyone turns with him. The two men lead me to the cross, right out in the open, and I know for certain that right now, the cameras are on me. I hate that the club is watching this, and I know it will be difficult for them, but I also know it needs to be done.

“String her up,” my father growls. “Ten lashes, then we’re going to perform our ritual to purify her sins. She carries the child who will lead us, we must remove the evil from her body.”

Well, this should be a blast.

The two men bring me up onto the platform where the cross sits, and release me, tying my legs. I take a small moment to squirm, crying out and cursing, flipping my body around and making things difficult. I’m not doing it to escape, I’m doing it so I can reach in and take the blade from my jeans. I manage to get it in my hand, and I close my fist around it, feeling the burn as it cuts into the flesh on my palm.

The men get control of me again, hauling me up. The knife bites into my skin as I’m tied to the cross, my arms pulled high and the weight of my body straining my shoulders. I can barely breathe around the pain, but I know this is what I want. This is what they need to see. Knowing that so many people are already watching is enough to give me strength.

“Prepare yourselves,” my father calls to the assembled crowd. “Everyone gather. Watch as the girl who defied the word of the Lord is purified.”

They step back, but my father stays close. His eyes are cold, triumphant. I watch him, defiant, as the first lash cuts across my back. My world spins, my breath catching in my throat, and the scream that tears out of me is raw and broken. It echoes through the sickening silence. Nobody makes a sound.

The second strike is worse, the pain searing, white-hot. Blood runs down my back, warm and slick, soaking into my jeans. I bite down on my lip, hard, trying to stay conscious, trying to hold on.

“Again,” my father orders, his voice merciless.

Another lash, and I feel the skin split, my entire world tilting. I can’t hold back the sobs now, and they break free, jagged and desperate. I don’t know how much more I can take, but I have to. I will. For Lily. For the club. I choke back the tears, my voice a hoarse whisper. “Fuck you. Asshole.”

“More,” he thunders.

They don’t stop. The pain is a relentless tide, each blow taking more and more. I count them, the screams ripping from my throat, until I lose track. Until I’m not even sure I’m still breathing.

Finally, it stops. I hang there, my body a mass of agony, blood dripping onto the wood platform below. The world fades in and out, blurred and distant, but I hear him, my father’s voice, so calm, so damned sure of himself. “Let her hang while we prepare the ritual. We will cleanse her soul before the child is born.”

They leave me there, hanging in the bitter cold.

My entire body trembles, but I won’t give up now.

No, this is where it ends.

THE KNIFE IS SLICK with blood in my hand, and I twist my wrist, trying to angle the blade against the rope. The strain is agonizing, my shoulders burning, and I bite back a cry as I maneuver, my breath ragged. I have to get free. I have to do this. I won’t let them do whatever ritual it is they think is going to purify me.

I’m getting out of here.

Hopefully, the world has seen enough.

The police must be on their way.

They have to be.

I push through the pain, twisting my body, feeling the knife bite into the rope. It’s slow, too slow, and I grit my teeth, desperation clawing at me. The fibers start to give way, and I pull harder, my vision blurring from the effort. Finally, the rope snaps, and my arm drops, limp and heavy, the blood rushing back in a dizzying wave.

It takes me a moment to gather myself, trying desperately not to pass out.

I move as quickly as my body will allow, freeing my other hand, then my legs. I’ve just cut the last rope on my ankle when I hear them. It starts off as a low hum, things I can’t quite make out, but it is familiar all the same. I scramble to my feet, ignoring the white spots popping in my vision, ignoring the torn skin and bloodied wrists.

They get closer, and as they do, I realize they’re chanting.

Fuck.

What sort of twisted ritual has my father got planned?

The air is heavy with their chant. I force myself forward, stumbling over myself as I frantically make my way to the edge of the platform, but I’m too late. They emerge from the tree line, the white of their clothing blinding against the night sky. A sea of them, moving in unison, the sound deafening now, pulsing in my head, in my chest. My father's voice rises above the rest, a booming certainty.

"We will cleanse her soul. We will purify her sins.”

I stagger back but force my feet to stay planted. The platform is wide, open, and terrifying. I take a shaky breath. I think of Talon, his steady hands, his calm eyes. I need to be that now—strong, unyielding. I feel the weight of the knife in my hand and grip it harder. I try to focus, to find a way out, but they are blocking the only exit.

They get closer, their bodies surrounding the platform.

"Nia," my father calls again, his voice smooth and unbothered that I am not tied to that cross any longer. "There is no escape."

I spin, looking for some hole, some means of escape. The chanting grows louder, more fevered, as if they are trying to will me back into submission. These motherfuckers are going to get everything that is coming for them.

But right now, I need to leave.

I don’t think, I just turn and launch off the side of the platform, slamming into a figure wearing white. I don’t know who it is, but my sneak attack is enough to knock them over, giving me a path through. Crying out in pain, I push to my feet and start running, heading towards the trees, praying I make it.

“Stop!” my father’s voice bellows, cold and furious.

It is him who charges towards me, his eyes wild. I try to run, but he’s on me so quickly I can do nothing to stop him. I spin, raising the knife, but he has my wrist in seconds, tearing it from me. His eyes are cold, emotionless, and in this moment, I’m more scared of him than I have ever been.

“No!” I shout, my voice breaking as I fight him, but he’s too strong.

The first thrust is a shock, the blade driving into my stomach, deep and brutal. I gasp, the pain exploding, white-hot, the world narrowing to a single point of agony. Blood quickly fills my mouth, and I choke on it, the taste coppery and thick. My father, the man who brought me into this world, is going to kill me. I know it as sure as I know the sun will rise tomorrow.

I gasp, but nothing comes out.

My knees tremble. My legs threatening to give way.

He pulls the knife out, and I scream, a raw, broken sound, before he stabs me again. The pain is everywhere, drowning me, and I feel the life slipping away, the world fading.

Another stab, vicious and final, and I know he’s going to kill me.

He is going to fucking kill me.

“Nia.”

The roaring sound of Talon’s voice has my head turning, as if in slow motion. I can’t see him, but I’m so certain I can hear him. Is this the end? Is this what happens when you’re about to die?

“Nia.”

Frantic this time, his voice so broken it pains me to hear it.

My eyes are blurry, and all I can see is the mass amount of people wearing white.

Where are you, Talon?

“God dammit,” he roars. “ No .”

A pained moan leaves my mouth and I know I can’t let him have this.

He might kill me, but it won’t be without a fight.

When he pulls his hand back again, I raise my knee, just enough to hit him between the legs. His bellow is all too satisfying as we topple to the ground. I gather the last of my strength, a desperate surge, and fight back. I claw at him, my hands slick with blood, and the knife slips from his grip.

We both move to get it, and yet somehow it is me who closes my fist around it.

My father lands on me, hard as he rolls us, and then in a moment that feels so fast, and yet so impossibly slow, his body comes down over mine, my hand facing up, the knife plunging into his chest. His eyes go wide, the realization hitting him. My mouth opens in a gasp. I didn’t plan it, but it happened so perfectly, so effortlessly, I can only believe it is how this was meant to end.

His body jerks.

His eyes begin to lose focus.

Oh God .

“You’ll never be free,” he croaks, his voice broken and barely a whisper.

“I already am,” I say, twisting my hand just slightly.

I said it would be me who ends this. That’s what I’m going to do.

I watch the light leave his eyes and then he slumps down on top of me.

I can’t breathe. I can’t move.

He’s dead.

The world starts to spin, and I hear it, distant but growing closer—the roar of engines, the wail of sirens, the crack of gunfire.

They’re here.

Like they promised they would be.

Then Talon’s voice again, a fierce, desperate shout.

My father’s body is hauled off me, and then he’s there, staring down at me, his eyes glassy and red as he takes my face in his hands. “Baby, no.”

“I did it,” I croak.

“Stay with me, Nia. Dammit, stay with me. Don’t close your eyes. Please, baby, don’t fuckin’ close your eyes.”

I did it.

I saved Lily.

I saved us all.

My world goes black.