Sanctum (Sacred Series Book 1)

by K. Michelle

  “Hi, I’m wondering where I can go to get birth records for myself.” Good one, Collins. Solid approach with confidence. 10/10.

  “Maternity is level two, elevator B.”

  “Copy. Thank you.” I give a friendly smile and navigate my way to elevator B, which was a task in itself. Five minutes later, I’m finally in the elevator and on my scheming way to floor two.

  I walk up to the maternity desk and put on the friendliest face I have in my arsenal. “Hi! How are you today?” Woah, little too peppy, Collins. I clear my throat and keep my smile.

  “Fine. How can I help you?”

  She’s not feeling the friendliness.

  “I was wondering if I could get information about my mom’s visit here. With me, I mean.”

  She raises her eyebrow, shaking her head. “Sorry, one word: HIPAA.”

  I exhale with my mouth twisting to the side, tongue in cheek, biting back the response I want to give her. “Okay, but I just need to try and find her. This was my birthdate, and she gave me up. I was hoping just to get a little more information?”

  She cuts me off. “I’m sorry, the answer is no.”

  And it was then when God rained his grace down upon me as a full-fledged maternity emergency code black Independence Day type shit rang out through level two. She left the desk in a hurry as all the nurses and doctors rushed to whatever was happening. Heart pounding and rebellion in my veins, I take one look around me, lights flashing and alarms sounding, and jump over the desk, straight to the row of filing shelves in the back of the room. I head for the “C-section,” pun not intended, to look for my last name. Time moves slow, my heart is pounding in my ears, and my cheeks are scorching as I finger through the folders. Collins, S. I flip it open when my eyes land on my mom’s name. An excited shriek leaves my lips, almost rupturing my eardrums, and I run back to hop over the desk, throwing up a peace sign at the cameras I’m sure are zooming in on me, and haul ass out of the hospital by divine intervention, undetected.

  How I made it out of the building is a miracle in itself. I book it out of the parking lot and pull into my coffee shop, heading inside to grab more coffee. At this point, I’m so amped up and hoping caffeine will calm me down. Taking a seat, I flip through the papers. My eyes frantically search all over the words at lightning speed, my heart still beating in my ears. I’m on the cusp of a breakthrough all on my own, I can feel it. I can practically taste it. My breath hitches ...

  And there it is in all its glory.

  The birth certificate of Rory Lane Marten.

  My sister.

  Evan and I are on a mission to figure out the deep dark secrets of everyone involved in Sanctum. I wouldn’t give a fuck if they fed me from their tit, if they have something to do with my mom or this sex ring, I’ll make them pay. And I’ll work my revenge up the ladder, keeping the suspense and fear right behind Henry’s door until it’s his turn.

  Evan comes in through the entry holding a hard drive. “Everything we need should be on here. I am the master of the Sanctum server. Call me Lord Terabyte. I mean, it will take hours to comb through, but fuck, man. I have everything.”

  “I don’t need to know how you got it, or what you are, all that matters is that you did.” I rub my hands together, a sinister smile taking over my face. “Let’s get to work.”

  Evan eyes me, and together we pull up every file on the computer he hacked and go through each one with a fine-tooth comb. Every person in Sanctum is as guilty as they come, but four hours later, we have our list of sinners due for repentance. We have our plan to self-destruct this damn cult from the inside out. Dessa hands me a paper, and I look at it again, a direct order from Henry to Vex to fuck with my mom’s medicine she received through an IV. She was improving, and I had so much hope for her. She was here one minute and gone the next. Doctors couldn’t explain it, and now I know why. I’ve yet to figure out what Dessa has to do with this. We’ve uncovered enough rubbish to realize everyone we thought we knew is a stranger, nothing more than a name to a familiar face, and now I have to detach any emotions linked to each of those people. Every single one was brainwashed into a tool to use when it’s useful for the sake of Sanctum.

  “Shit man, years of this is unraveling before our eyes. I need a drink.” Evan gets up, rubbing his neck, shoulders hunched over in exhaustion as he pours his whiskey. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out to see Henry’s name.

  “Fuck. It’s Henry.”

  Evan pauses, eyebrows raised. “What are you going to do?”

  “I have to answer it. I can’t let him suspect anything yet.”

  I press the green button on the screen and clip my introduction, “Henry.”

  “Son. I need you down at the pier ASAP.”

  My face snarls, and I lift a middle finger in the air, waving it around maniacally. “Yeah, sure thing. I’ll be there in twenty.” I hang up, releasing the loudest exhale.

  “Shall I join, brother? One for old times’ sake?” Evan asks with a lifted brow.

  I know what he’s implying, and my mouth draws into a smile even the Joker couldn’t muster. “Let’s go.”

  We cheer our whiskeys and grab our bags filled with a change of clothes, medical equipment, an assortment of tools, knives, and travel-size cleaning supplies. Then the two of us get in the car and head to the pier.

  Twenty minutes later, we arrive, both looking around at our surroundings. Stacked cargo containers stagger over us at every angle, hiding the building I’m about to enter.

  “I’ll head through the back. Do your thing, and I’ll meet up with you,” Evan informs, and I nod, grabbing our bags and getting out of the car. I walk in through the door, and on the desk sits the kill order next to my instructions. Sanctum needs names connected to a drug-drop gone bad. Typical jobs Henry normally has me deal with. Mr. Raymond Gooding is about to meet the brunt of his bad days. Quietly, I take the sound dock and plug it in the room for music from my phone. The blindfolded man already secured to the chair in the middle of the room has no idea I’m here. “Big Empty” by Stone Temple Pilots plays, and the first hit of the bass drum makes him jump, my presence announced.

  I approach him. “Hello, Mr. Gooding. How are you today?” His breathing escalates, but not so much where an average person would recognize the difference. “You know, it’s not very polite to ignore someone when they are kindly speaking to you,” I remark, but he spits out in front of him, snarling at me. Evan comes in from the back and silently nods, letting me know it’s just us here. “Now lucky for you, you get a two for one special today. This rarely happens. Similar to a solar eclipse, or maybe looking at the sky at the right time to catch a shooting star … I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Am I rambling?”

  “Just a little bit, Priest,” Evan calls out to me, setting his pliers on the metal tray table next to the chair Mr. Gooding is occupying, then turns to him. “Ya see here, Raymond, we have shit to do, but we also wanted one last rendezvous of torture time. My friend here gets to do this often, but me? I’m behind the scenes. Want to know why?” Evan is inches from his face, tone menacing and unforgiving, making sure his voice matches his posture because Ray is blindfolded. “I’m too much of a liability. I tend to get … messy. Careless. I put my anger into these sessions because I have an entire reservoir filled with fury, but I keep most of it hidden. And it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve released some demons.”

  Even I’m a little scared. If Raymond isn’t, he’s a damn idiot. Evan rips off his blindfold and pries his mouth open, shoving a jaw block into his mouth. This is to prevent him from biting us or closing his mouth in general.

  I come up behind Evan, patting his back. “Pace yourself, brother. We have all night.” Our guest grunts, nose flaring as I take the blindfold off. Silently, Ray glares at the both of us, most likely trained not to speak. Evan and I grab our tools of tonight’s choice. I chose scissors so sharp they slice through the skin like butter, Evan, on the other hand, the rusty pliers he adjust
ed earlier. We put our goggles on and the tools in Ray-Ray’s mouth, but when he starts screaming, we set them back down, just wanting to scare him a bit. Since we found out about the sex ring, neither of us planned on doing any more of Sanctum’s dirty work. We don’t want to hurt the guy, only want to scare him.

  Our tough guy act didn’t last long, and he’s very confused when we put our tools down and take the jaw guard out. Both of us pull up chairs, deciding to have a little chat first.

  “Now, here is when you can count your lucky stars because you’re going to give us a name. I don’t fucking care who or what name it is, if it’s correct or if you pulled it out of your ass, you will give it to me, and then you can leave.” Ray looks between us, wondering if this is some kind of joke.

  “But here’s the catch, we have to rough you up a little bit. For good measure,” Evan says while he pops a toothpick in his mouth and winks. “Also, one more catch. You utter any of this to anyone, we will use these tools on every inch of your body, and my promises don’t fall upon deaf ears, Ray. Do we understand each other?” Evan buries his rage deep down, and there’s no stopping him once it releases.

  I take the jaw block out so he can respond. I can tell he’s confused by our method. “As much as I’d like to pull some teeth, I only wanted to scare you.”

  His brows pull together once more before he nods quickly to respond and get the hell out of here. “Juan Carlo.”

  We both smile, and Evan grabs his shoulder. “Good man, Ray. But now? Now’s the hard part. Sorry, buddy,” Evan says right before he lays a right hook that connects beautifully to his cheek, and the sound would make angels sing. Ray grunts, spitting out blood when Evan delivers another blow to his side. He’s defenseless to the body jolts, as his hands are tied. Ev steps back, and I come forward with a jab that connects with the center of his face. His nose breaks beneath my knuckles, and the dopamine flows through both our veins. The high these sessions give me is one of the reasons I want out. I love it too much.

  We deliver a couple more blows until he looks like he’s endured enough. I untie him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against a wall.

  “Tell your men Sanctum won’t be an issue soon. After that, I could give fuck-all about what you and your little gangsters do. But you do not repeat a word of this to anyone except Tony. I know he’s a man of his word, so if you or he opens your squirrelly fucking mouths, I will rip open your wives and children with a smile on my face and joy in my heart. Yes, it is a threat, and yes, I’ll follow through on it if you test these waters. Don’t push your good luck. Understand and agree?” My venomous words cut right through him. He heard me loud and clear.

  Ray nods, and I slam him against the wall again. “Words, asshole. I want words.”

  “Understood and agreed.”

  “Great.” I slap his cheek in a friendly manner, smiling at him before pushing him out the side door where he can scurry off. I turn to Evan, who’s already packing up. The tension builds in his bones. I can see it.

  “Bags?” I ask him, implying we can go get our aggression out in a manner in which society would approve of.

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  I shoot off a text to Henry stating things got out of hand, but I got the name before he died. We took care of the body and not to worry. Seconds later, a text comes through.

  Henry: Great job, Son.

  Fury fills me every time he calls me “son”—now we’re both full of anger. We take our rage out on the boxing bags and spar each other for two hours before we go home and start putting our plan into motion.

  Make Sanctum bleed from the inside-out.

  It’s nearly one-thirty in the morning. I haven’t slept a wink for the second night in a row. My eyes have been shut for hours, body comatose, but I still can’t sleep. Once I saw her name, everything became so real and too much. Guilt courses through me, even though it’s very likely, she had a better childhood than I did. But I could be wrong, and I’ve failed her somehow. I know, with every fiber of my existence, she needs me, and she doesn’t even know it. Does she know about me? Is she looking for me too?

  I whip the blankets off me and throw on my sweatshirt so fast, the cotton grabs my nose ring and rips it out.

  “Ahh! Shit-shoot-frick-dammit-son-of-a-freaking-gun!” I touch my nose, making sure it didn’t tear in half. Things like this only happen when I’m in a bad mood. Taking in a deep breath, asking Father Zen to bless me with patience, I try putting on my sweatshirt again, slowly. I’ll find my nose ring later. My nostril is tender as hell now, anyways. I throw on my puffy coat over my sweater and grab a beanie. It feels like the North Pole outside today, so I put on my fleece-lined leggings and boots. I go to walk out the door, and my hip runs into the doorknob.

  “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” I grab my throbbing hip bone and take slow deep breaths. “Okay. That’s two. One more, and I’m done. Go easy on me, I’m in a mood,” Speaking to no one but the stale air of my apartment. I need to paint soon because my emotions clog up, and the itch to release them consumes me. Finally, I make my way to the one place I’m longing for.

  I pull up to the outskirts of the woods, shut off my car, and stand outside, looking into the tree line. So many people are terrified of the woods at night, their subconscious putting their deepest fears into places you can’t see. It’s a place where I feel most at home, where my demons blend in with the darkness that surrounds me. But the best part is, I blend in too. It’s me against my demons, neither one of us really knowing where the other is, so we lay down our swords and find peace among the trees, agreeing to taunt each other in the day where it’s a fair fight.

  The first crunch of the leaves and sticks bring familiarity and sense of home to my soul, a smile lining my face as my feet take me where they know they want to be. Minutes pass by, and eventually, I’m in the fort. After turning on the lights, I sit on the pillow and grab a blanket and a book when curiosity gets the best of me. I wonder if he’ll come—if he’ll feel the pull this time. My lips lift as the fort door creaks open behind me, his presence warming the room.

  “You came,” I say with a smile.

  “I did.”

  I pat the mound of pillows next to me, motioning for him to sit down. And he does, but the surprising part is, he didn’t give me a sarcastic response. He grabs a book and fingers through the pages, both of us basking in the comfortable silence, the kind I was so used to between us.

  My eyes keep leaving my pages and peering over at his reading figure. “Did you bring them?” Curiosity gets the best of me, and I bite my bottom lip in embarrassment, which is very unusual for me. I peek at him out of the corner of my eyes and see a small smirk as he pulls a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos out of his coat. He remembered, and it does sick and twisted things to me. I snatch them out of his hands and open the bag, breathing in the scent. “Fuck, I haven’t had these since the last time you brought me some.”

  “You all but threatened my life if I were to come out here after you and not have them with me. And that was when we were what? Ten?”

  I chuckle. “Something like that. First time I had Doritos, it was love at first bite.”

  Silence sets over us like a warm blanket. I look up at him, our eyes connecting, both of us wanting to say something, but the words aren’t coming out. He beats me to it, though. “When was the first moment that you knew you hated me?”

  The question catches me off guard, making me pause. “The first time I met you.” I wipe my hands off and set the bag to the side. “When was the first moment that you knew you hated me?”

  He smiles a genuine smile, and it makes me hate him just a little more for being so beautiful. “The first time I met you.”

  I roll my eyes and look up, but his fingers catch my chin, his eyes hanging onto mine. “Now ask me when was the first moment I knew I loved you.” The whisper of those words lights goosebumps down my body. My heart races while my breathing stops. “Ask me, Little One.”

  I try to calm m
y erratic nerves and shaky palms. “When was the first moment you knew you loved me?”

  He smiles that smile again. “The first time I met you.”

  My eyes pinch, looking at him suspiciously, trying to downplay the profound effect his words are having on me. “Are you sure it’s not that you just love to hate me? You’re walking a thin line, Cohen.”

  Cohen inches his body as close as he can to mine as if he needs me to breathe. “That was never in question. A part of me may always resent you for having such a hold on me, but maybe it’s time I do a different kind of dangerous. A danger I’m not used to. One that requires me to have every inch of bravery in my body on the front lines because it’s you that will be destroyed if I don’t.”

  “I thought you were the only one that could hurt me?”

  “I am. And I will. I’ll hurt you in more ways than you can imagine. But I don’t want to destroy you, Dessa. I want to be the one who breaks you and stitches you back together.”

  “I’ve always sewn my own stitches. Why would I let you have that kind of power over me?”

  His fingers trace the lines of my face, and his eyes never waver their stare from mine. “That’s the point, don’t you see? It’s you who has that power over me. You have always had the power, Dessa. You are my Achilles and my anchor, wrapped in blonde hair and ocean blue eyes.”

  I pull my lips between my teeth, soaking up every word out of his mouth. “You can break me all you want, but you don’t get to break my heart. You’re the first one in this territory, so tread lightly but stand strong. I’ll tell you right now, this isn’t going to be easy. I’m stubborn and complicated, and I like my freedom.”

  He chuckles. “You haven’t even tasted freedom yet. You’ve been on your own. Single. Alone, but not lonely. You don’t know the kind of freedom a man like me can provide for you.”