In all this time, I knew Grace was a monster. I’ve seen what she’s capable of. But this cuts me, dragging a dull knife across the deepest parts of me.
“You can’t do this,” I repeat dumbly.
“I can. And what’s more, I would make you watch what they do to her. I’d watch, too, and love every minute of it. Because it’s justice. Because she has it coming to her just like you do. The Lord rejoices when sluts like you and your bitch of a mother get what they deserve.”
The desire to fly at her, to try and strangle her with my bare hands almost overwhelms me. But that image of my mother going through the same hell I went through keeps me in my seat.
“I’ve seen your file.” She sits down in her chair but leaves the video of the men playing on the monitor behind her. “Your mother gave up on you. She cared more about getting high than you. If I had a mother like that, this—” she waves her hand at the screen “—wouldn’t burn me too badly. Which is what I told the Prophet when he suggested we take her and bring her here. ‘There’s no way this will work,’ I told him. Respectfully, of course. But he disagreed.” She points at me. “He knew you were weak and sentimental. And he was right. Look at you. Blubbering over poor addicted, whoring mommy who doesn’t give two shits about you.”
“Shut your mouth.” I dig my nails into the arms of the chair.
“I won’t. And I’d watch my tone if I were you.” She opens her drawer and pulls out a black binder, then slides it across to me. “We need to get started on our lessons for the day. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the Prophet, not when your mom’s on the line.”
I stare at the black binder as Grace watches me with hawkish eyes. What little choice I thought I had has vanished into the ether. I reach out a shaking hand and take the notebook, settling it into my lap.
“Good.” She folds her hands on the desk. “Let’s talk about your future husband.”
I open the binder. But I do something else, too. I make a decision. Killing my sister’s murderer isn’t enough anymore. Torching Heavenly isn’t enough. If I want to destroy the evil, I have to start with the base of the tree and cut it down, then dig out the roots one by one, and salt the earth when I’m done. Each piece of it must wither and die, and I have to be sure that nothing will ever grow in this place again.
“He enjoys watching other men fuck his toys.” Her grin spreads wide across her face. “Did you know that? You’re going to be ripped apart by strangers while he films it.” She points to the binder. “Flip to the third tab. We have stills from a few videos. Research material for you.”
I hold her gaze for one more moment, a silent message on the air between us—her, transmitting smug power; me, transmitting the truth.
You’ll be the first to die.
Chapter 12
Noah
“If you know where he is and you aren’t telling me.” My father’s eyes dart around his office, his dark irises huge. “You know. You’re probably the one who took him. You must know!”
I wish I did. But I’ve gotten nowhere on trying to figure it out. “Dad, if I knew, I’d tell you.” Pants decidedly on fire.
He swipes his hand across his desk, knocking off a paperweight and some documents, though he’s careful not to scatter his precious coke container. “Castro! Bring Rachel!”
“Dad. I swear I don’t know.” I scrub a hand down my face, my several days’ worth of beard scratching my palm. “I was with you when he was taken, remember?”
“You were?” He sits down, his shoulders slumping. “That’s right.” He waves a hand at Castro who’d headed for the door. “Forget it.”
The iron band around my heart relaxes as Castro re-takes his seat.
My father stares at me, and I wonder if he’s slept at all. When he found out Adam was gone, he sent every one of his minions out onto the compound. Every building has been searched, and the grounds have been combed by men with dogs. A trail led away from the cross, into the woods, and onto the road, but then it vanished. Whoever took Adam had access to a vehicle.
“You could still know.” Dad’s words come out in a mumble.
“I don’t.” I shrug and hold his gaze.
“I want the grounds searched again. He has to be out there somewhere. Maybe—I don’t know—maybe he’s hiding out on the land you’re about to clear for farming. Maybe he hopes that you’ll find him.”
I could point out that there’s no way Adam would survive out in the cold—no food, no water, no shelter—but I don’t. “I’ll have some men go through the area again.”