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“Yeah, we’re clear through here.” The ambulance speeds up.

No. I give up my charade and slide out of the shoulder straps. The ambulance stops quickly.

“Get out of the way, you dumbass!” the driver yells and lays on the horn. I slide down the stretcher and reach for the door.

“Honey, no.” The medic reaches for me, but I push the handle and scoot off onto the floor.

“Grant, hold up. She’s awake and trying to—”

I jump out of the ambulance. It’s farther down than I thought, and my knees buckle. I hit the ground and roll, scraping my legs on the cold pavement. The momentum dissipates, and I stop, climb to my feet, and run. The gate beckons, and no one is there to stop me. Everyone is still at the church—the faithful and law enforcement.

“Girl, come back!” The kind medic yells after me, but I’ve already ducked under the gate arm and am speeding down the smooth road to the Prophet’s house. The cold air stings against my face, and the wound on my back burns with each step, but I can’t stop. This is for Georgia. And it’s long past time I get it done.

The house looms ahead of me, its stoic brick face watching my approach with trepidation. I pass to the side of it and turn around the back. My lungs scream at each intake of cold air, but my steps are light. I’m going in the right direction. I can feel it.

Three white golf carts are parked along the back of the house. I hurry to the first one and look at the ignition. No key. Same for the other two. Shit! I try to lift the seats to search for a hidden compartment, but there’s nothing there.

It’ll take me longer, but I’m not going to let this stop me. I turn on my heel and stride away toward the heart of the compound.

The basement door opens behind me, the click familiar. I whirl.

Hannah stops, then rushes out to me. “Oh my God!” She hugs me, her hands on my back wrenching a cry from me.

She gasps and pulls away. “Oh shit. You’re hurt bad.” She points to the church. “Ambulances are up there. I’ll get you—”

“No.” I lean on her proffered arm. “I have unfinished business.”

She blinks, then her concern hardens into resolve, matching my own. “So do I.”

“I have to get to the Cathedral, but I can’t find keys. Do you know if—”

She holds out her open palm. A silver key shines in the sun. “I found it inside. Busted through a window and got in easy. Come on. I’ll chauffeur.”

I sit on the passenger seat and glimpse a tendril of smoke floating through a broken window farther down the back of the house. “You?” I ask.

She doesn’t even look. Just puts the cart in reverse, then guides it down the hill. “We’re going to burn it all down. Jez told us, and we’re doing it. My part is done. Now it’s time for the spoils.” Her smile is bright as she floors it. I grab the side rail with my good hand and hold on as the wind howls past my ears.

“Did everyone get out?” I try to yank at my sleeve to make a wrap for my hand.

“As far as I know.” She reaches over and grabs the sleeve, then pulls hard enough to rip it at the seams. “About half of the girls ran into the crowd, but the ones who wanted to stay are still here.”

“Thanks.” I take the sleeve and wrap it around my palm. “Still here? You mean the ones—”

“The ones who want justice. They’re still here. I want justice, too. For Sarah. For me.” She takes a hard turn past the Chapel, flames already licking along the roof line from the busted out windows.

We’re all owed something from this place. Justice is really the only word for it.

“I can’t believe it’s over.” She shakes her head. “The FBI are crawling all over the church. Protectors and Heavenly PD in cuffs. It’s done.”

“It can’t come back from this.” I peer behind me, as if the church will be lurching after us like a villain in a horror movie. Nothing is there but empty road and a winter sky.

“It can’t.” She reaches over and squeezes my knee. “We won’t let it.”

We go deeper into the compound, passing the Rectory. To my shame, the first thought of my mother crosses my mind since this whole ordeal started in the church.

My stomach sinks. “My mom. Wait. We have to get her. She’s—”

“We freed everyone. Your mom, too. She’s still whacked out from withdrawal, but they took her to the Cloister. We’re going to regroup there, then light it up.”

“Thank you.” I push my guilt down. “Thank you for helping her.”

She just shrugs and gives one more glance to the Rectory as we pass. “Some of the girls have gone to the back of the property where they’re doing all that construction. Going to burn all that shit down, then bring the bulldozers up this way. Jez thought of everything.” She laughs. “I didn’t even know that woman existed until an hour-and-a-half ago, but now she’s like, my guru.”


Tags: Celia Aaron The Cloister Trilogy Erotic