by Tillie Cole
“Well, job done, fucker.” Cowboy slid down to sit on the opposite side of the van. “You wanted them to seethe? Wait until Meister returns to see his second-in-command missing a face and skull.”
No one said shit as Viking drove us like lightning back to the compound. Until Hush shook his head and said, “Shit. That’s Phebe? Li’s sister?”
“What’s left of her.” I motioned to Cowboy. “Get Prophet Dipshit on your cell. He’s needed at my cabin now. And tell the fucker it ain’t a fucking request.”
Cowboy did as I asked. I kept my gaze straight forward, staring at the side of the van. Until I felt someone watching me. When I looked down, Phebe’s bruised eyes were cracked open. I tensed when my gaze met hers.
“Vike, take the back roads home and kill the lights. They’ll be swarming the main roads in minutes. This shit ain’t over until we get through the compound’s gates.”
I kept my eyes on Phebe’s face, and that small smile she kept wearing around me pulled on her lips. My heart ripped right down the fucking center. In her fucked, raspy voice, she said, “Safe . . .”
Her eyes closed a second later, but I didn’t stop staring down at her. I couldn’t look away. Even when the van came to a stop, I struggled to break my stare.
Safe, she’d said.
Whatever the fuck that meant to her.
*****
When the van doors opened at my cabin, I held Phebe close to my chest and stepped out into the breeze. She moaned in my arms as the wind lapped her broken skin.
Rider stood near the cabin with his medical bag in his hand. Lil’ Ash was standing in front of Flame’s door, and I could see Maddie in the window, trying to look on.
Flame marched straight to Ash, then through his cabin door. I walked on to mine, only glancing at the now shaven-headed prophet to say, “Follow me.”
I went straight through to my bedroom and laid Phebe down on the freshly made bed. Phebe moaned, back arched, when I stepped back. Her red eyebrows were furrowed, and her legs became restless.
Here we fucking go. I watched as the fingers on her left hand searched for the marks on her right. The fingernails began scratching, looking for the injection of heroin.
“Can I . . .?” a voice asked from behind me. I looked back at Rider in the doorway. But the prick’s eyes weren’t even on me; they were on Phebe.
“Go ahead.” I stepped back.
“Shit,” Rider muttered under his breath as he dropped to his knees and opened his bag. He winced as he took in her injuries. The hand that was running over Phebe’s arms and legs stopped mid-air and clenched into a fist.
“I’m sorry,” Rider said to Phebe. If I wasn’t mistaken, the asshole’s voice cracked. His head dropped and shook from side to side. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
My eyes narrowed, watching him with her, and my chest tightened at how he spoke to her. I knew he knew her. I knew his psycho twin was fucking her for the longest time. But I didn’t like how close Rider was to her. Some damn stabbing in my chest didn’t like how familiar he was with her.
“She’s been raped and beaten. Don’t know for how long.” Rider turned his head to listen to me, and I swear the fucker wiped his eyes. “She’s on smack too. Meister cunt keeps all the girls on that shit.”
Switching from friend to doctor, Rider stood and began checking all Phebe’s cuts. “I need towels and water. We’ve gotta clean her up.”
Footsteps sounded from the hallway. I looked over; Ash was already gathering what Rider had asked for. I hadn’t even seen the kid was there. When he came back, I raised my eyebrow in question.
“Thought you might need me,” he said.
I ruffled the kid’s dark hair and took the water from him. I put it down beside Rider, and Ash handed over the towels. “Wait in the kitchen, kid,” I ordered.
I watched as Rider cleaned Phebe and began stitching her up. He moved to her pussy and the damage that’d been done there. I tensed. To be fair to Prophet Prick, the fucker was clinical and kinda fucking professional. But watching him near her cunt had me almost murdering mad. So I focused on Phebe’s face, on her eyes, which kept rolling open and closed. Her lips parted, and her tongue ran along her cracked flesh. “She needs water,” Rider said as he stitched along a slash on her thigh.
Teeth gritted, I stormed to the kitchen and past Ash, who was sitting at the table. I got a clean glass and filled it with water. When I went back to the bedroom, I held it out for Rider. The ex-brother looked at my hand. “You’ll have to do it. I have to close these cuts so they don’t get infected.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, I moved to the head of the bed and sat on the edge. Phebe groaned and rolled her head in my direction. Her eyes opened, and her fucking blue gaze landed straight on me. Her lips twitched; my body tensed, wondering if the bitch was gonna try and smile at me again. But she gasped with thirst, so I gently pushed my hand around the back of her head and tilted her neck. Phebe’s rail-thin body was as light as a feather. She made pained sounds as I moved her, but all the time her glazed eyes never left mine. I swallowed back a fucking lump that was making its way up my throat. And fuck me, but my hand holding the glass was shaking. I shut my eyes and ordered myself to get my shit together. But before I could, I was thrust back there. I felt the sweat run down the back of my neck. I felt the dry air filling my lungs. I felt the dirt floor beneath my knees and felt his hand in my hand as I gripped onto him hard. I felt the fucking tears building under my closed lids as I smelled him—the blood, piss and shit from days and days of torture.
“AK,” a deep voice said, slicing through my mind. I tried to pull myself back, but I was fucking trapped. My heart slammed against my rib cage so hard I was sure my ribs were about to snap.
Then a long female moan took hold of my brain and fucking smashed through the memory. I blinked and cleared the water from my eyes. Blue eyes were still looking up at me. But it wasn’t the eyes that had brought me back, it was knowing I was with Phebe. It was the feel of her bony fingers gripping my wrist with all the strength of a flea. Her hand was shaking, but she was trying to bring the glass of water in my hand to her mouth.
With a deep inhale, I slowly lifted the glass to her mouth and watched intently as she drank. She coughed as she tried to swallow too much at once.
“Small sips,” Rider said from somewhere beside me. But I couldn’t look away from Phebe. Now her face was clean of grime, blood and whatever other shit she’d been caked with, I saw how she really looked. Her already pale skin was gray. Her cheeks were hollow, and her cheekbones were sharp on her gaunt face. But her fucking freckles were still there. The same damn mass of freckles that had stared at me the day I tied her ass to that fucking tree in the cult’s commune. So many of them that there must have been a million on her cheeks and forehead. And those little fuckers on her nose . . .
“That’s enough,” Rider instructed. I pulled back the glass. But I didn’t lower her back down to the bed. I kept her head in my arms. Even as her eyes closed and her breathing shallowed with sleep, I still didn’t let her go. Not until Rider moved into my line of sight. The fucker was watching me with a damn frown on his face. Watching me. Like he had any fucking say about what happened with this bitch going forward. Like a damn brother looking out for his sister.
“What?” I snapped and lowered Phebe back down onto the pillow. She looked real fucking strange lying in my bed.
Rider didn’t speak for a few seconds, just eyeballed me. He ran a hand over his crew cut. “I’ve patched her up. She was . . .” He gestured to her pussy. “Hurt. He had hurt her, but she will heal.” Rider looked at her arms and the visible track marks. “But we need to get medication to wean her off the heroin.”
As I went to speak, I heard the sound of the front door opening, and footsteps came hurrying down the hallway. Ky came into my room, Styx behind him.
Ky looked at the bed. I stood and moved out of the way to let him see Phebe, gritting my teeth when I remembered s
he was still naked. I turned around, lifted her thin frame and placed her beneath the comforter. When she was covered, I stepped back and looked at my prez and VP. But they’d already seen the damage. I could tell by the fucking murderous look on Ky’s face.
“She gonna live?” he asked coldly. I knew by his tone that the question wasn’t for me.
“She will,” Rider replied. He paused, long enough for Ky and Styx to look at him. “But she’s been on heroin, and more, I’d guess.” I felt the air go fucking stone cold around us. Ky’s teeth raked over his lips. The brother was pissed.
“They all were,” I added. Ky and Styx looked at me. “The bitches at the ghost town. He had them on IVs of smack and crack and fuck knows what else. All the sluts were out of it.” I glanced back at Phebe. She looked fucking tiny on my mattress. “Christ knows how long she’s been on it.”
“A while, I’d say,” Rider said.
“Don’t tell Lilah about her being back,” I said to Ky. “She ain’t come through this shit yet.”
“She needs medication,” Rider went on. “To get her off the heroin, and—”
“And I need y’all to get the fuck out.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“What?” Ky said harshly. Styx stepped forward, his bulky chest puffing out at my shitty attitude.
“I need y’all to get the fuck out of my cabin.” My jaw clenched. Ky eyeballed me.
“You got an issue, brother?” Ky inquired, no doubt wondering what the fuck was going down.
“Bitch needs to get off that shit in her veins. So I’m gonna watch her until it’s gone. And for that I need everyone else to fuck off.”
“Cold turkey?” Rider said, sounding panicked. “There’re better ways. We can wean her off with medication, make it less painful for her. Fuck, she deserves it after what she’s been through.”
“My way will only take days. So get the fuck out.” I addressed Ky and Styx directly. “I’ll call when she’s through it.”
Styx’s eyes went to Phebe on the bed. Lifting his hands he signed, “You ain’t gotta do this. Bitch ain’t your concern.”
“Want to . . . have to” Before I could see the unwanted fucking sympathy on Styx’s and Ky’s faces, I turned and went to my closet. I pulled out a black Hangmen tank and a pair of boxer shorts. Without looking back, I said, “So get out. I’ll call when it’s done.”
I knew they didn’t leave immediately, but I also didn’t turn around until they were gone. When they were, I stood at the end of the bed and stared down at Phebe. She looked so damn peaceful, but I knew in a matter of hours, when the craving came calling, there weren’t no peace for her to have for days. I gripped the tank and boxers tighter in my fists and fought the fucking pit that was trying to form in my stomach.
Phebe flinched in her sleep. I made my way toward her and drew back the covers. I stared at her emaciated body and imagined what she’d look like filled out and healthy. Shit. I knew, like that, she’d be the best fucking bitch I’d ever seen. I imagined her skin free of gashes and track marks, the color of milk. And a smile on those lips that was due to being free from the shit in her veins and not from some misplaced gratitude for being saved from a sex-trafficking ring.
Forcing myself to move, I slipped the tank over her head. Hades smiled up at me with his Uzi and noose in his hands. My tank hung to the middle of her thighs. I slipped my black boxers over her legs and pulled the cover back over her.
Vike and Flame were watching me from the doorway. “You ain’t gotta do this shit, ’K,” Vike said. “Leave it to someone else.”
“I can do it.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Flame, for once, was fucking still, and I knew the brother was worried when his black gaze held mine without looking away. “Give her to someone else,” he growled.
I shook my head. “I got this,” I said. Flame shook his head like he was ready to argue. “Flame,” I pushed, then added, “I got you through your shit, right? When we got you out of that nuthouse?” Flame’s nostrils flared and the cords in his neck bulged at the memory. “I can do this for her too.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I . . . fuck, I gotta do this for her too.”
Vike tipped the back of his head against the doorframe in exasperation. Flame looked at Phebe on the bed, and his eyes narrowed slightly. I could tell he was seeing himself on that mattress. He turned on his heel and left my cabin. I knew that was the brother letting go of his protest shit.
“You ain’t always gotta be the one to do this for people, you know?” Vike said. I looked at my oldest friend but didn’t say shit. We had very different views on that point. “It ain’t gonna change the past.”
I put my hand in the air and cut that shit off quick. “Don’t,” I warned. “Don’t fucking go there, Vike. I mean it.”
Vike eyeballed me, but he dropped it. He turned to go. “What’s with you and this bitch? Why d’you even give a fuck?”
I didn’t answer. Mainly because I didn’t know myself. I just needed her to be better. That’s all I allowed myself to accept.
“I need you to take the kid for a few days,” I said instead. “Flame needs time with Madds alone. He ain’t right after the ghost town. Don’t wanna put Ash in that path.”
Vike nodded.
“And don’t be a dick to him.”
Vike gave me a shitty salute.
He left the cabin, and I knocked on Ash’s room door. “Yeah?” he called out.
I opened the door. Ash was sitting on his bed. “Gonna need you to stay with Vike for a few days, kid.”
Ash stared at me, his black hair a damn mess on his head. “Okay.” He got to his feet and started packing a bag. He waited until he was almost done to ask, “This has to do with the bitch in your room?”
I smirked. “Bitch, Ash? Careful, you might actually start sounding like a true Hangman soon.”
His face lit on fire with embarrassment. “Y’all say bitch, so now I do too. It ain’t bad to say that here. You only ever say it about chicks y’all like.”
I nodded, then answered his original question. “But yeah, kid, it has to do with the bitch in my room. And it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
He moved to leave. As he passed me, I grabbed his arm. “You need anything, you go to Vike, Flame or Madds, yeah?”
He nodded and left. I locked my door, then gathered all the shit I knew would be needed over the coming hours. I took a shower and dressed in just a pair of jeans, raking my still-wet hair from my face. Then I pulled a chair to my bedroom and sat down at the end of the bed.
And I waited.
I waited for the detox to begin.
Trying not to let the déjà vu from my past enter my head.
Who was I kidding? There was no fucking chance of that.
So I let my torture begin too.
Blood. Blood, and a fuck-ton of bodies surrounded us. And he was gone. Devin was fucking gone . . .
Chapter Seven
Phebe
“Phebe,” my father called. I ran from my bedroom and into the living room. A man was sitting on the couch. The man was dressed in white and had the blondest hair I had ever seen. Well, except for one other. My Rebekah. But she had gone now. Gone to the prophet’s home to rid the devil from her soul. Soon she would be free from evil, and I would have my best friend and sister back again.
I was counting the days.
“Phebe,” my father said. “This is Brother John.”
“Hello sir,” I said and bowed low. When I had straightened, my father beamed at me.
I smiled.
Brother John rose from the couch and came toward me. He stopped just a few inches away, lifted his hand and placed his fingers under my chin. I looked into his blue eyes as he searched my face. He was smiling at me kindly; I smiled back at him. That seemed to please Brother John, because he nodded and spoke to my father. “She is beautiful. She will make a good Sacred Sister.”
Brother John untied my headdress and pushed it back. My long hair was tied bac
k off my face. He withdrew the pins that held it in place and let it fall around me. It fell all the way to my waist.
“Beautiful,” he said again and ran his fingers through the strands. “Tell me, Phebe,” Brother John asked. “How old are you?”
“I am ten years old, sir.”
“Perfect,” he replied. “And have you yet received your first touch?”
I glanced to my father, who nodded for me to answer. “Yes, sir.”
“She has not been fully broken in, but she has been explored by a brother I am close to, since she was very young. She has the necessary experience.” My heart beat fast as I remembered Brother Abel. The first time I had lain on my bed as he came into my room and removed my clothes. And then he had touched me. He whispered scripture in my ear as his fingers explored my flesh. And then he told me to touch him too. He came back often and did the same things, sometimes more. My father had told me it was God’s will.
“Phebe,” Brother John said, and I blinked. “The prophet has requested you for a special position in our commune.”
Happiness raced through my body, and I smiled with excitement. “Me? The prophet knows who I am?”
“Yes.” Brother John stroked his finger down my face. “And you are to become a very special girl to him and all of the brothers in our faith.”
“I am?”
“Yes. You are to become a Sacred Sister. Do you know what that is?”
“No, sir.”
“It is one of the most important positions in all of Prophet David’s kingdoms.”
I swallowed hard as Brother John slipped his hand into mine. “Come, child. You will stay with me across the commune in a very special place.” I glanced across at my father, and he smiled so big at me. I felt nothing but pride as Brother John led me from my home. Brothers and sisters that I passed waved at me in congratulation. All the time, I thought of our prophet and how lucky I was to have been chosen for a special position.
I would not let him down . . .
My eyes rolled open as a slice of pain cut through my stomach. The light in the room stabbed my eyes, and I called out as its brightness caused my head to ache.
