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Page 70
Page 70
“Shh, babe.” I tried to soothe her. But f**k, how could I respond to this f**ked-up tale?
“Gabriel grew more obsessed with Bella as she matured, even after he married another sister, then another. He joined with Bella every night, slept beside her every night. She ate with him, he made her bathe with him. He became crazed with his possession of her. But she hated him, Styx. She hated him with every fiber of her being.”
Mae drew in a deep breath and continued. “When I was thirteen, Prophet David declared me to be the prophesized seventh wife. The wife who will signal the return of Christ, the End of Days. When I turned twenty-three, I would wed the prophet. I had no idea why I had been chosen. I had never even spoken to the prophet. He was always kept away from his people. We only saw him at ceremonies, sharings, and prayers. But he would get the elders to video the young sisters of the commune… to see which ones he wanted to… bond with. Perhaps he saw me on one of those…” She pressed a kiss to my chest as though it gave her strength. I gripped her hair in my hand and my teeth gritted to the point of pain. Videoed? Shit! Oh, and I f**kin’ knew why she’d been chosen to be his wife. Hell, it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes.
“The day I ran was to be my wedding day. The day you found me,” she explained.
It all made sense now. “The w-white d-dress—” I pushed out, unable to finish my sentence. I was losing control of my speech, too coiled up with the growing rage inside me.
She nodded. “Weeks prior to my wedding, Bella just disappeared. No one would tell us Cursed where she went, but Gabriel was always absent from our sector after that day. He was obviously with her. Then…” She sniffed back her sadness. “Then on my wedding day, Lilah found her. Bella was in a dark dirty cell; beaten, starving… dying. I stayed with her until she passed. Then I ran.” Suddenly, sobs wracked her body and, gripping the back of her neck, I pulled her to my chest. “I left them, Styx! I left Maddie and Lilah.”
“F-fuck Mae,” I said as I tried to work my throat free.
Abruptly rearing back, her face swollen and red, she said, “They will be searching for me. They will never stop. They believe I am the vessel who will save their mortal souls.” Glancing down at her tattoo on her wrist, I ran my thumb across the scripture, then looked once more to Mae.
“The End of Days is upon us. My marriage is the act that must happen to transport my people—The Order—into paradise.”
And there went that robotic shit spouting from her mouth again. Glazed eyes and all.
“Y-y-you…” I paused, breathed deep, calmed myself, and tried again. “Y-you ain’t l-leaving m-me. Th-they come f-for you, th-they g-gotta go through me… th-through the Hangmen.”
Her tight face softened. “Styx… I never want to leave you, but—”
“Gonna pr-protect y-you,” I assured, cutting her off.
“I know you will,” she asserted and tucked herself into my side.
A f**kin’ sinking feeling dropped in my gut. I could always feel when something weren’t right. I’d had the feeling since Mae turned up; it was even stronger now.
“What about you?” Mae whispered, her fingers stroking down my tensed bicep.
“Wh-what?”
“Your mother? What happened to her? Who was she?”
I let out a single laugh. “Club slut. L-left my old m-man for the Di-Diablo scum.”
“Diablo?” she questioned, confused.
“M-Mexican MC. Rivals. Been at war ever s-since. My old man k-killed my mother wh-when I was ten. Sanchez, their P-Prez, killed my old man l-last year. I killed Sanchez t-two days later.”
Propping herself on my shoulder with her hand, Mae’s expression was sad. “You have led such a turbulent life. Surrounded by so much death. I have always wondered why you had Hades as your emblem, the devil. I saw the mural when I arrived. It is such a strange thing to worship.”
“Not in th-this l-life.”
She raised her ebony eyebrows and my lips twitched. Rolling her to the side, I moved off the bed and kicked my legs over the side.
“Where are you going? You need rest. You are still injured, remember!” she protested.
I waved my hand in dismissal. I reached for her black robe and threw it at her. “P-put it on.”
She eyed me curiously as I slipped on my jeans. I stood and held out my hand, leading her down the back staircase to the yard.
I led her out of the door and into the summer night’s breeze, the crickets singing and not much else about. Her eyes resembled a deer’s in headlights as she scoped the outside of the clubhouse. Too much shit’d happened of late to make Mae feel safe out here. A large fence kept us in, barbed wire lining the top, cameras perched on every corner post for protection. The bike shop sat on the corner, brothers’ Harley’s and Choppers lined up in front.
I pulled gently on Mae’s arm. “Th-this way.”
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and let me lead her to the west side of the yard. I felt her falter in her step when she saw the mural again.
Bringing her back to my chest, I placed my hands on her shoulders and leaned in to her ear. “I want y-you to meet H-Hades and P-Persephone, his w-w-wife.”
A small sigh escaped her lips and she treaded forward on light feet, neck bent back, staring up at the painting, in awe—no, at the goddess in awe. I stepped back, giving her space, and folded my arms across my chest unable to stop watching her.