AK walked to Flame. “Brother, this is an in-and-out mission. No fuckin’ drama or those nut jobs’ll catch us all and crucify our asses. This isn’t some pussy-ass hippy shit we’re dealing with. This version of the cult is fuckin’ locked and loaded to take any fucker out that crosses their turf.”

Flame stared at AK like he weren’t even listening, but he said, “I’m still coming. I’ll shut the fuck up.” Flame smiled and it just looked fuckin’ creepy on the freak. “The ways I can kill don’t need to have sound.”

I saw the apprehension on all the brothers’ faces, but I for one would feel better knowing that murdering bastard had my back.

“Then we go in tonight,” Styx signed. “Get rest. Y’all are gonna need it.”

Each brother tapped me on the shoulder as they left the bar to go to their rooms, leaving me with Styx. I threw him a jerk of my chin and went to hit the sack, when he stopped me with a grip on my arm. He let go to sign, “If this cult under Rider’s got worse than the fucked-up one our bitches were brought up in, then you need to prepare yourself, brother.”

“She’s only been gone a couple’a days. We’re gonna be back before those assholes hurt her,” I replied, but I knew I was fooling myself, as did Styx if his fucking pitiful expression was anything to go by. As soon as Lilah walked back into that commune, she was gonna be hauled into seclusion for those bastards to “save her.” She’d told me so herself.

“Go be with Mae,” I said and almost ran to my room. Slamming the door, my back hit the wood, and I slid to the floor, my head dropping into my hands.

Fuck, Li… please be fuckin’ okay.

Chapter Nineteen

Lilah

Leaves from a tree outside the window danced as shadows cast against the bedroom wall. It was dark outside and a deathly silence overpowered the night. It was not a pleasant sight, those leaves. The dark shapes joining together, crisscrossing, and shaking almost looked like demons crawling along the wall, stalking me… taunting me. I squeezed my eyes shut to escape the haunting sight.

My legs were numb. I tried to move them to a different position but winced when a pain jolted through my body from my core. I was sore. Micah was rough, causing blood to stain my thighs, his seed dried down my legs.

I had lost count of how many times he had taken me—each time reciting scripture, my soul reacting, shaking me from within, my eyes rolling back, and a personal plea to the Lord flowing from my mouth.

“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you,” Brother Micah would shout with every thrust of his hips, every pull on my hair wrapped around his fist, and every flood of his seed spilled into my womb.

Exhausted from his arduous task, Micah had left, leaving me unmoving on the bed but promising to return tomorrow. I did not want tomorrow to arrive.

I had never felt this… dirty, this used before. At the end of every Lord’s Sharing in the past, I accepted that I was one step closer to salvation. But Brother Micah had not taken me to save me; no, he was punishing me for his lashes, tearing my hair, purposely causing me pain as he entered me dry. He scratched and sank his teeth into my shoulder, bruised my hips with his unrelenting grip, and marked my neck when he pinned me down, almost choking me.

I had only ever been taken by Brother Noah my entire life. I did not know what it was to make love, to feel pleasure at one’s carnal touch… until Ky. His touch had changed me; his love had fundamentally transformed something within me.

He had shown me this joining was… wrong.

I blinked once. Twice.

This joining is wrong! This whole place is wrong!

Lips trembling, I used my palms to push myself off the mattress and maneuver myself into a sitting position. An unfamiliar energy coursed within me. Before I knew what I was doing, I stumbled to my feet, righted my soiled-with-blood-and-seed dress, and staggered to the door.

Pressing my ear to the wood, I could not hear anything outside. Slowly opening the door, I checked the hallway was clear and tiptoed outside.

Voices drifted from a room at the end of the hallway. I assumed it was the room where the guards resided. It was only a short trip to the exit door, so as quiet as possible, I made way toward it and outside into the night air.

Feeling lightheaded, I followed the pathway and it led me to the edge of the woods. I did not have any conscious thought, but simply followed my feet as they picked up pace and tried heartily to run. And run I did.

I burst through the cover of trees and ran. Ran as fast as my weakened legs would allow me. I had no idea where I was or where I was running to, but I did not care, visualizing Ky in mind. His image kept me strong. I must leave… I could not believe that I, Delilah, a devout follower of the prophet, was attempting to flee to the outside.

My breathing sounding hollow. I stumbled over a fallen branch. I was exhausted, my body in dire need of rest. As my palms and knees hit the ground, I tried to stand up, but I could not. With my cheek to the dried leaves, I heard raised voices approach, one voice in particular standing out—Brother Micah.

“Here! She is here!” he shouted, and in seconds, guards surrounded me.

Arms scooped me up. Dazed, I found my eyes looking into Brother Micah’s. His lips were tight and his gaze furious.

“Were you trying to escape, whore? Were you deserting your people again… your prophet?”

I did not say anything in response. I knew the consequence for being a deserter, and I doubted anything I had to say would be considered.