Merciless Love: A Dark Romance

by Nicole Snow

  The gun exploded. A high-powered bullet ripped up through the worn ceiling. The women tittered and shook beneath the blast.

  “Go!” Evan roared one more time.

  Finally, they picked themselves up and fled, high tailing it out the back door, pulling up their long white skirts so they could run. There was nothing else blocking our way.

  Nothing except my trust in this man. I had to reach up and rub my eyes.

  Was it true? He looked and talked and smiled like a changed man. Dangerous as ever, he truly seemed concerned about protecting me, and not just because he had some monstrous obligation hanging over him.

  Another choice with no real alternative. Trembling, I stepped after him as he waited by the door, holding it open for me. Evan's eyes shifted warily, staring at the small cabins beyond the dead Prophet's Refuge.

  “Gonna be a long fucking trek through the woods to get to my car. Thank fuck it's daylight.” He stepped next to me, moving swift and careful. It was strange to have a man protecting me instead of doing harm.

  Closer to the walking path to the personal cabins, we stepped over another body. My heart fluttered when I saw Gilbert's pale face turned up to the sky, a mushy hole in his chest.

  “Jesus! You killed him...”

  Evan stopped and looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “That a problem? This asshole drew his gun when he saw me coming. Didn't have a fucking choice. It's do or die.”

  I shook my head. “No, no...I'm glad he's dead. He was a devil too.”

  “Good. No sense in mourning this piece of shit then.” Evan grabbed my hand and led me forward.

  Several people must've heard the commotion. Disheveled women stood in their tiny yards, next to the feeble vegetables gardens we tended all year around. The best veggies always went to the Prophet, a special kind of 'offering' everyone was expected to make with harvests and animals if they wanted to stay in God's good grace.

  A few men came out too. Beacon Grove was an aging community, mostly broken men like my father and occasionally their sons. Evan gunned down the men responsible for protecting the Prophet, and nobody else had the balls to meet the challenge.

  When we were near the last row of houses, Evan stopped, shining severe eyes back at the little crowd. I'd once considered these people friends, neighbors, fellow worshipers. Now, they were all just lost souls like me, more adrift than ever as soon as they saw the man they'd blindly followed was dead.

  Victims. All avenged, even if they didn't know it yet. But what does a person do after justice has been rendered by bloody, violent hands?

  “Everybody listen up!” Evan waved his gun in the air, high over his head. “I want you all to turn your asses around and go to your Prophet's house. You'll find the sonofabitch dead and rotting there. God didn't give him a fucking shield and he didn't strike me down either. It's gonna take some time for you all to figure out this asshole was a charlatan and a crook, but the sooner it sinks in, the better.”

  The people stared at us, wide-eyed and horrified. I studied their faces carefully. In Julie and Margaret, two of the younger girls like me, I saw my own relief. Jesus, had he slobbered all over them to? Threatened to make them future wives?

  A lean figure moved behind a broken down shed. I saw Ryan's skinny face looking out, fear and longing mingling in his eyes when he noticed me.

  I almost shook my head. Disgusting. This was the boy I wanted to give myself to? A coward who sat on the sidelines and couldn't even show his face?

  In any case, they were all safe. Safe as safe could be when these people left this cursed place and sorted out their lives. A small beam of sunlight broke through the clouds and high trees above, slipping on Evan's black leather shoulders.

  Yeah, calling him a dark knight would've been the ultimate cliché. But right there, standing before me, he truly was. Whatever we'd suffered in the past and future, he'd saved my present, and changed the lives of so many other innocent people.

  If he was a monster, he was one who slayed greater demons. I didn't have a clue what to think about heaven and hell after the Prophet's deception, but if there was a just God, then Evan's sins would be weighed against his miracles in the balance.

  We passed on, rounding the long trail toward the wild forests. The last broken down cabin at the end of the lot turned my heart to stone.

  Heather!

  God, I'd nearly forgotten my little sister in all the turmoil. I broke and ran for the steps leading up the wretched home I never wanted to see again. Had to face it one more time to get her out of there.

  Evan called after me, but I left him no choice but to follow. I was banging wildly on the door when the screen creaked open.

  “Cassie? Lord! What's happened out here? Why are you free? Has he made you pure already?”

  “The Prophet's dead, Heather. The man was a monster.” Sudden strength filled me. I grabbed the door and pushed my way inside as Heather stumbled backward. “He would've done the same for me if it hadn't been for –“

  “Holy shit. What a fucking cesspool!” Evan's eyes were wide as he stared at the debris in our cabin.

  Daddy's old ashes from thousands of cigarettes lined the floor in heaps, overflowing the ash trays that were never emptied. Just dumped on the dirty carpet. For the first time in my life, the stink inside made me wretch. Probably because I'd been away from our dump for so long.

  “This is that sister you were talking about? Fuck, she's even scrawnier than you when I found you on the road. Uh, no offense, babe.”

  None taken. My whole world was spinning amid the shock and horror on Heather's face, the vile cabin, and having the man who confused me like hell being here. Two worlds collided before my eyes.

  One wouldn't survive the fireworks.

  Outside, several distant shrieks pierced the air. Some skittish souls had found the dead bodies outside the Prophet's house, Gilbert and the other guard, and they'd be stumbling on our benefactor's lifeless body any minute.

  “Cassie, we need to fucking go. No telling what these people'll do once they realize the bullshit gig here is up.” He paused, staring at the new fears lighting up my eyes. “Bring her with. We can figure something out.”

  “Are you serious?” My jaw trembled, ready to drop. The surprises today just kept coming.

  “Serious as I am about getting our asses home. Bring her now, babe, before I have to shoot my way past any zombies who snap and decide to get in our way.”

  I didn't understand the reference. I stepped right in a big pile of ash and crumbs and grabbed my sister by the arm. She screamed, dropping to the dirty ground, trying to pull away.

  “Listen to him, Heather! Evan knows what he's talking about. I know this is a shock, but you need to come with us. There's nobody to look after you anymore.”

  “It's a sin, it's a sin, it's a sin!” Her eyes were huge and watering. She had the look of a woman whose whole reality had just broken apart, a more dramatic version of the shattering I'd suffered.

  I rubbed her shoulders. “You'll feel better away from this place. You have to believe me. Please, sister, you have to make your legs work.”

  I had to pull her up, but she was standing on her own. Evan was behind us, urging me forward, marching her through the loud door and toward the forest.

  People were running wild all around us now, the few who hadn't locked themselves indoors. Two men ran past carrying a body by the arms and legs. Heather broke and let out another anguished scream.

  It was Gilbert, his head rolling limply. If Heather was hard to move before, she was a total boulder on spindly legs now, surprisingly heavy for a girl down to skin and bones.

  Jesus. What if I hadn't found my way back here? She may have starved to death well before marrying that piece of shit.

  Redness nipped at my cheeks. Evan's coarse words were starting to invade my brain. Harsh, sinful words were sometimes the only ones suitable for this world.

  “I can't move her!” Heather dropped to her knees and I called out t
o Evan, several paces ahead, gun tense in his hand.

  “There they are! There're the sinners who murdered our Prophet!” I turned toward the booming voice and saw old Joseph Lynch waddling toward us, his enormous belly bouncing beneath his large dirty beard. “Damn you, cowards! Will you let this devil get away with this, or will you be divine retribution? Join me! Rise up and cast them back to hell!”

  Bastard was practically the only well fed man in the congregation. Probably thanks to some dirty deal behind the scenes with the man who'd ruled us with an iron fist. Lynch pointed, huffing and puffing, waving behind him to urge other men forward.

  Nobody followed him. Not that it mattered to Evan.

  He spun, jumped in front of us, and gripped the gun the same way he had before he blew the Prophet's crazy brains out. “Freeze, psycho! He's dead as a doornail and you'll be too if you don't let this go. Go back to your ratty cabin and figure out the rest of your life. Let these poor sheep get on with theirs!”

  Lynch wasn't stopping. Evan bared his teeth. It was all over in a blink and a resounding clap of thunder and screams.

  The fat, abrasive man had a hole through his barrel chest to rival Gilbert's. Lynch toppled over and hit the ground hard, rolling several feet on the uneven ground before he was still.

  People ran inside the nearest buildings. Doors slammed. If anyone was thinking about joining the crusade, they weren't now.

  Trembling, I held Heather tight. She stopped crying and shaking. Her eyes were dull, lifeless, as if she were sleeping with her eyes open.

  I looked up. Evan's big chest rose and fell. There was no remorse in his face, just the same killer rage I'd seen the instant big Lynch approached, fire receding one ember at a time.

  “Let go. I'll carry her ass.” He swung to the ground, never taking his eyes off the makeshift street.

  He picked Heather up like she was a bag of cotton and slung her securely over his shoulder. I mouthed a thank you, but his face sent the same message.

  Move. Now. Have to keep you two safe.

  I understood, and I followed. Kept looking over my shoulder every so many paces, until I was sure nobody was coming after us.

  We walked on for an hour before he jerked to a stop.

  “Evan?” I called his name softly, wondering what was up ahead.

  He pointed. I followed his finger to the uneven ground right in the line where I'd been walking. I looked closer and saw rusty metal peeking through the dirt. There must've been a deep pit down there, probably filled with the tarnished spikes they used to skewer people. It happened to several outsiders over the years, and only God knew how many in the congregation who'd tried to escape.

  The Prophet said the traps were there to keep us safe from the corrupted world. There was no doubting the reality: it was to keep us in. We still had a little ways to go before Heather and I could leave this prison behind forever.

  Without speaking, Evan stepped carefully past, where the surface was clear and solid. Safe.

  It had been a close call, just like everything. Every step we took, I trusted him a little more.

  No, he wasn't an evil slaver anymore. I wasn't sure what he was, but not that.

  A man who wanted nothing but to grab me and keep me as a slave wouldn't protect me, let alone my broken sister. He wouldn't kill for me, over and over, and never with the ferocious, deeply personal glint in his eyes. If I was just property to him, he wouldn't look like that while he brought death.

  A miracle was unfolding right before my eyes. Whatever happened while I was gone had caused him to tear down the walls between us. It was all crumbling, as surely as the Prophet's reign, the gulf between us filling with yesterday's ruins.

  Fever swept my body, giddy and confused and hot with disbelief. Arousal too, much as I didn't want to admit it. I couldn't take my eyes off him as he led me on.

  When we finally reached the car and he gently laid Heather across the backseat, there was no more doubt. I had a terrible feeling there were plenty of obstacles ahead. Worse ones than the killer pits and wire traps around my broken town, no doubt, but I wasn't worried.

  We were on our way home, and I was finally going to meet the real Evan Cole.

  The forest was dark when we pulled up his long driveway. The house was barely lit.

  I wondered what happened to Izzy since he discovered my escape. Obviously, something had changed, but did she have to pay the price before he came to his senses?

  I looked behind me as he pulled the car into the big garage. Heather hadn't stirred the whole way home. I never stopped looking at her every mile just to make sure she was still breathing.

  The Prophet's death made me happy before, but now I was enthralled.

  He did this to her with his sick, sick lies. So did Daddy, God damn his soul, though our father's brutal punishments were never so harsh and frequent with my sister. I was his favorite to beat and curse.

  I unbuckled my belt and got out, rounding the back door. Evan beat me to it, popped the door, and pulled Heather's limp body into his arms. He turned, carrying her in his big arms, gentle as a kitten.

  “Evan, no.” I tugged at his sleeve. “She's my problem. Let's find her a bed and I'll start trying to figure something out.”

  “She's not as strong as you,” he snapped. “This girl's seriously fucked. You're an angel for wanting to jump in and fix her, babe. But she's gonna need full time rehabilitation. I've got something else in mind...”

  He turned, stepped past me, and pushed his way inside. I trailed after him, wondering what the hell was going on.

  Angel? Please. If I were anything that blessed and pure, I wouldn't have gotten swept up in any of this.

  Monsters wouldn't keep drawing me in with their dark magnetism. If I were a true angel, I wouldn't feel any different about Daddy or the Prophet or you.

  Now, it's obvious: there's a little darkness inside me too.

  By the time I caught up, he was frozen near the dining room, staring at the sight in front of him. I screeched to a halt and gasped.

  Izzy sat by herself at the table and looked up with puffy red eyes. She had one hand on a bottle of wine. Didn't look like it had been opened.

  She sneered at Evan. “Before you say anything, I'm sober. I haven't taken a damned sip. Just took me a little while to recover after the bullshit you slung my way today, Evan. Give me an hour. I'll get my things and I'll be gone.”

  “Not so fucking fast.” He stepped forward, holding my sister a little tighter to draw attention to the girl.

  “What's this?” Curious disgust soured her face. “Great. You dragged Cassie back here and another girl too? Did the Mexican ask for two slaves?”

  “Shut your damned mouth for a second and listen,” he growled. “It's a bitch to admit this, but you were right. Right about me. Right about her. Right about everything.”

  The nastiness on Izzy's face lifted. She turned to me. I stepped forward and nodded.

  “I came willingly. Evan saved me from the cult who hurt my sister and me for years. He killed a man who deserved to die, the Prophet who raped and killed more people than anybody will ever know.” I swallowed, trying to beam my cold understanding into Izzy's eyes.

  She softened. Turning back to Evan, she reached out to Heather, stroking my sister's arm.

  “This is the sister? She's cold. I don't understand...” Izzy sighed. “Why did you bring her here? You should've left her at the nearest hospital.”

  “Wrong. This girl's our responsibility now, same as Cassie. I haven't given up on my boy. Don't give a single fuck if you have, Izzy. I'll figure that part out myself. But this, here...I still need your help.”

  Tension filled the dining room. Izzy glanced down at the wine bottle and then jerked her hand away, as if it threatened to burn her fingers.

  “Look, I'm trying to tell you I'm sorry for the shit that went down. I can't take back any of it. All we can do is move forward. Are you gonna help me out while Ty's got a chance?

  �
�I'm not a psychologist or a doctor, Evan. What do you expect me to do?”

  “Do the right thing. Take this girl. Feed her, bathe her, talk to her, make her move and speak again. Keep her safe. I need you to do this while I figure out a way to get him home. I'm sorry I doubted you and roughed you up. Thing is, I'm man enough to admit my mistakes, but I'll fucking die if I don't fix this shit. Let's be clear: the only goddamned slave Borzia's gonna see coming to his doorstep is me. Not you. Not this girl. And never, ever Cassie.”

  My heart fluttered. How the hell did saying he wouldn't hand me off to be brutally enslaved sound so sweet?

  Somehow, he pulled it off. The same way he caused fire to build between my legs. Deep, hungry, sinful fire, the blaze I hated before because it threatened to burn as relentlessly as him.

  Now, I was ready. Lightning zipped across my spine when he turned to face me.

  Izzy stood, struggling to pull my sister out of his arms. Heather dangled on her feet, just barely standing. She could still walk a little if the woman nudged her on.

  Evan returned to my side and stood next to me. Icy-hot tingles pickled my skin. Goosebumps rose just as sure as my nipples turning to stone. It was like there was something raw and beautiful I could smell surrounding him, the same lust he smelled on me.

  “There, honey. Everything's gonna be all right,” she whispered, before looking at us again. “You want her here or...?”

  “Home. This house isn't fit for guests anymore after the shit we put Cassie through,” he said. “Besides, it'll be good to have her clear and free when I start to work on everything else. Need to keep Cassie close, and my own damned property closer. Can't have any loose ends getting in the fucking way.”

  Izzy nodded, reached into her purse, and took out her keys. She stepped past us, urging Heather toward the garage. We both turned to watch her go.

  When she was almost outside, she paused, looking back over her shoulder. “I'm glad you cleared your head. You never would've forgiven yourself if it had gone the other way.”