Sanctum (Sacred Series Book 1)

by K. Michelle

  “I won’t make this easy on you. You know that, right? Not by choice, but by my instinctive nature to protect myself, have my own back. I won’t hand over the reins easily.”

  “I don’t want you to. I just want to help you hold them.”

  “I don’t have much to offer you back, Cohen. You sound like you have this down to a T.”

  “Everything you are is what you have to offer, and that’s all I want. It’s you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted since I was eight years old, and I could never explain why. All I know is, it’s enough for me. Just you.”

  I nod. “But I still need the fights, the bickering, the constant back and forth with you. It’s what makes everything so real and so imperfect, and because of that, it makes these moments hurt in the best way possible.”

  “It’s not real if it doesn’t hurt, Little One.”

  His fingers brush my loose tendrils of hair behind my ears, then lightly drags them down my jaw to my chin. Cohen tips my face up, and his eyes battle back and forth between mine before he slowly descends, kissing my lips with a gentle intensity. This is Cohen stripped bare. He took down every brick of his and handed them to me, letting me in so we can build his wall back up with just us inside. A peace offering he’s never given to anyone else. It’s in this moment when I discover a part of me I didn’t know about. I’ve put up the sturdiest walls there were, built to withstand all the pain and disappointment any storm could ever bring me, but I never realized there was a door I made for Cohen.

  And he just walked right in.

  All three of us are sitting around my living room table, laying out our plans.

  “I’m going.” She crosses her arms and sits back, a look of finality on her face.

  Immediately, I object. “Fuck. That. You’re not going. Absolutely not, Dessa.”

  “This will be killer inspiration for my art,” she slides a sly look to Evan, “pun intended.”

  Shoulders shaking, Evan covers his mouth before he looks up at me. “Our girl thinks she’s ready for bloodshed with the Priest of Sanctum. Let her see why they really call you that, Cohen.”

  “If you go, you participate,” I challenge her.

  “What?” both of them say in unison.

  “Yeah. If you go, you participate. I’m not bringing an audience for shits and giggles. Those are my conditions, take them or leave them.”

  “Deal.”

  “No!” Evan switches teams.

  “Seriously?! You just said to let me come!” For once, Dessa’s hard glare directs to someone who isn’t me.

  “Dessa. Are you retarded? You will be an accomplice of mur-der,” he slowly says, breaking it down for dramatic effect.

  “I know. I’m not stupid,” she slowly replies, mockingly. A battle is about to go down, and I should grab the popcorn.

  “Whatever, girl. You’re life.”

  “Exactly. My life. My choice. Fuck off if you aren’t on board.”

  “Whoa! I’m always the partner. You are the guest. Don’t turn the tables.”

  “You men are worse than women. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Ev, I fucked Cohen’s off hours ago.”

  I choke on my water, unprepared for that rebuttal. Evan’s face turns up, and he rubs his hands together. “I fucking knew it.” Evan chuckles.

  After setting my water down, I look between Dessa and Evan. “Okay, I’m bored with you two. Are we ready to pay Kevin a visit or no?”

  “Hell, yes,” they both reply at the same time, then roll their eyes at each other. Jesus, I’ll get nothing done with these two. Evan grabs our bags while I search for the smallest clothes I have for Dessa to change into. The tee and pants I picked out will still be big, but will do. I join the two back in the living room and toss the clothes over at her. She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “Things tend to get messy. You need disposables.”

  “Awe, I get to wear your clothes?” she asks with a sassy attitude.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not the first woman in my clothing.”

  And her sassy attitude is replaced with anger. Just how I like it. Her eyes flare, and I’ve hit a nerve, which makes me smile as I walk past her out the door.

  We’re all in the car on the way to Kevin’s house. Our very own pretty-boy. “Okay. First up to bat. Kevin Garrison. Twenty-Four years old, six-foot, two-hundred pounds. Tan. Greek. The ultimate charmer. The ultimate sex-ring bait,” Evan reads off like a radio host, letting Dessa know what we’re up against. “Sins to repent for? Let’s see. Oh, Right here. Baits women and young girls. Wines, dines, then drugs their asses for the menu. What’s the menu? Sanctum has a literal menu of girls. Each girl is labeled by number, and then they describe them like fucking food with a price.”

  I look in the rearview mirror at Dessa, who has murder in her eyes. My girl may be able to hold herself during this better than I imagined. I’ll need to have Evan do these rundowns for her for each job.

  We pull into Kevin’s driveway and park, all of us getting out and approaching the front door. I try the door, and it’s unlocked. I take my gun out of my waistband and keep it down as we peek in. “FEFE” by 6ix9ine is playing from the basement. I look back at Dessa and Evan and tell them to follow me. We make our way downstairs, and Kevin, the Greek god, is working out. I laugh at the irony. He can’t hear our presence but catches us in the mirror and drops his weights, yelling like a little bitch. Dessa turns off his stereo and fumbles with her phone.

  My gun is back in my waistband, and I walk up to him, patting his shoulder and leading him to sit down on a workout bench mommy and daddy probably paid for. “Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

  Kevin’s nostrils flare, and he bats my hand away and swings for my jaw. I duck to the side, making him miss my face in his feeble attempt of a punch. The force of the missed swing causes him to stumble, and I grab him from behind, one arm holding his hands and the other around his neck.

  Evan grabs a small pill container from our bag, walks toward us, and pries open Kevin’s jaw. “Night-night, Kevy,” he says, shoving the pills we picked up from a townie, into his mouth. Kevin uses these on the girls he kidnaps, so I’m giving him a taste of his own medicine. Literally. Evan uncaps Kevin’s bottled water with his teeth, spits out the cap, and pours the water down his throat. He forces Kevin’s jaw shut, making him swallow the pills. Once he swallows, I tighten my grip on his neck, putting him to sleep. Evan pulls up a chair, and we tie him to it and wait for him to wake back up.

  Several minutes later, he does.

  He’s defenseless, weak, his vision is blurry, and his words mumbled.

  “Not so fun getting a taste of your own medicine, is it?” I say, slapping his cheek to wake him faster. His head bobs up and down in a feeble attempt to defend himself. He’s about as threatening as a snail. “You know what I’ve always loved, and what I’ve told several others? Nursery Rhymes. My mom used to sing them to me all the time. I’m sure some of the girls you drugged and put into Sanctum’s sex-ring did too.” The realization dawns on his face, and I continue, “Don’t bother fighting this, Kev. It’s over for you, bud.” I pat his shoulder. “Little One, will you bring me the bottle in my bag?”

  “Of course,” she says with a sweet smile, grabbing the bottle and bringing it over to me.

  Kevin builds up enough strength to speak, “I know you.” His eyes point to Dessa. “Dessa Collins.” Her eyes nervously float between Evan and me, but I don’t do anything. I’m desperate to hear the next words out of his mouth. “Rory was my first take years ago.”

  Dessa’s breath hitches. Her furious eyes widen as her nose flares. “What did you just say?”

  Walking over, Dessa grips his face in her palm. The tips of her fingers turning white as she squeezes his cheeks in anger. Letting go, Dessa leans over, meeting Kevin at eye level. “You better speak. Clearly and concisely, telling me everything you know.”

  Kevin’s shoulders shake in laughter, his head bobs in fatigue befo
re his eyes slowly track up to Dessa’s. “What? You want to hear that I introduced myself to her while she was walking her dog one day? In her perfect little town with her perfect little parents? That I maneuvered my way into her teenage heart just so I could rip it from her chest for Sanctum? Because that’s what I did. And it was so easy,” he cracks his neck, “she was a fighter though, lots of spunk,” cocking his head to the side, he continues. “Almost as much as her big sister. Better tits though.”

  Dessa rears her elbow back before flying it forward into Kevin’s jaw. His head snaps to the side before dropping to his chest baring his teeth. Spitting out blood, he snarls at Dessa. “You little bitch!”

  “No, you’re the little bitch, Kevin.” Dessa grabs his long gold locks on the top of his head, yanking them back so he looks up at her as she stands over him. “Who told you to take her? Who?”

  Kevin smiles, blood coloring his straight teeth as he shakes his head no.

  “Where is she?!” Dessa tightens her grip, arching him back in the chair even more.

  “She’s better off dead, and so are you. Now all three of you can rot in hell.” Kevin struggles to say the words, but once they’re out he starts laughing. A sadistic laugh right at Dessa before spitting in her face.

  Dessa’s shoulders heave in fury as she pushes his head forward, stepping back slowly while her nostrils flare and her jaw grinds together. “What’s in the bottle you brought, Cohen?” she asks without taking her stare off Kevin.

  My eyebrows pull together. “An acid I—”

  Before I can finish, she cuts me off, “Perfect.” Dessa hustles to the bag, putting on the thick black gloves that reach past her elbows. She’s back in front of Kevin in no time, unscrewing the cap and prying his mouth open. “This is for her, you fucking piece of shit.” She shoves the bottle into his mouth and tilts it up. His screams fill the room as the acid burns and melts his tongue, trickling down the flesh in his throat. He tries to cough it up, and Dessa steps back, shoulders heaving in anger. His screams die down quickly as he passes out from the pain. Blood drips from his nose and mouth from the acid eating away the insides of his body.

  She moves to go back in, but I stop her. “Get your fucking hands off of me, Cohen, or I swear you will be next.” I release my grip and step back, watching Dessa in all her glory. Evan stands in the corner, frozen. Our eyes connect, and we both laugh out of complete shock at what’s happening in front of us as she continues, “She was your first. I’m your last, you bastard. This is for every girl in between us.”

  He can’t hear her. He’s probably dead at this point, but she opens the waistband of his shorts and tips the bottle inside. I watch in awe at the brilliance in front of me, and she rips off the gloves and throws them at him. The smell of burning skin fills the room. Walking to her bag, she grabs her lipstick and makes her way to the mirror to leave a message.

  Half a pound of tuppenny rice,

  Half a pound of treacle,

  That’s the way the money goes,

  POP! Goes the weasel!

  Dessa walks back to her bag and tosses in her lipstick. Once done, she looks to me and Evan, hatred and fury in her eyes. “Who’s next?”

  “I’m going to need an explanation of what the fuck just happened before we answer that question. To preface, I’m not mad. In fact, I’m a little turned on,” Evan speaks before I have the chance.

  “I’ll explain in the car.”

  And she’s gone.

  Evan looks at me. “I think I’m in love.”

  I pat his shoulder, laughing. “Too late, brother.” We both laugh and follow after Dessa, who’s already in the car. My laughter dries up immediately when I see her face devoid of any emotion except pain. My blood is hot as words replay in my head. I’m the only one who gets to hurt you.

  We’re all in the car and sit there for a moment, letting her process or prepare.

  “What’s going on, Dess?” Evan asks.

  “Rory.”

  My eyes draw together, then snap up, meeting hers in the rearview mirror. Holy Shit. She nods at me when she sees I’ve put it together. “Your sister.”

  “My sister.”

  “Wait, you have a sister?” Evan. Poor Evan.

  “I found out at college. Someone sent me a letter saying I had a sister I wasn’t aware of and she needed my help. It was vague and I’ve been chasing leads ever since. I just found out her name after breaking into the maternity ward at the hospital to steal my mom’s file.” My eyes widen, full of surprise at her. “I wouldn’t have known that was her name otherwise.”

  “I knew you were a badass, Dessa. But damn,” Evan compliments.

  “You’re either the sword or the stone,” she replies, looking out the window. Dessa thinks she’s just the sword. But she’s not. She’s as strong as the stone, sharp as the sword, and the princess who pulls it out. She’s all three. Aerials by System of a Down quietly plays throughout the car. “Can you drop me off at my art studio?”

  “Sure.” I take a left instead of a right. In less than five minutes, I pull in front of her studio. “We will help you find her, Dessa.” She nods, biting her lip. “Do you want company?”

  “I don’t really care right now. I’m about to rage paint, so do whatever you want. Most likely, I won’t even know you’re there.” She gets out and slams the door.

  I look to Evan. “I’m going to walk her in. Make sure she’s … I don’t even know.” He nods, and I get out, walking up behind her right as she unlocks her building. She flicks the lights on, and her studio is trashed. I take in the scene before me. Paint is everywhere, broken brushes are scattered throughout, and paintings ripped to shreds. I expect her to lash the fuck out, but she sets her stuff down, calmer than I’ve ever seen her, and cleans. No words, no tears. But I can feel her stress and anxiety from here. Her chest moves in very slow but deep patterns, desperately hanging on before she loses it. After picking up an envelope, she stands, opens it, and studies the piece of paper that says four words.

  Running out of time.

  She takes a deep breath and starts to clean again, but I grab her arm and bring her to my chest, squeezing her as tight as I can, trying to soak up every wave of anxiety washing through her. “I’ll figure this out. We will find who did this. We will find your sister.”

  “You don’t know that, Cohen. She was trafficked into Sanctum for crying out loud. She could literally be anywhere in this world. She could be dead.” Her shoulders shake, and her fists pound my chest before she pushes away from me. Evan walks in right as she grabs her art supplies and paintings off the floor and throws them across the room. The brushes clatter against the wall and to the floor as she finally breaks.

  “Why?! Why now, dammit!” she screams through her tears as she trashes her studio even more. Evan goes to stop her, but I hold my hand up. I want her to get this out. We can clean the rubble after, but you only breakdown so often. This needs to get out. She has to dig down deep where it hurts and pull out every fucking shred of pain she’s been hiding inside and bring it to life. “Why give me a sister just to take her away from me? Huh?” She looks at me, defeated and hopeless, and she falls to the ground, burying her face into her paint-covered hands. She pushes her hair back, colors smeared throughout, and it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever painted.

  Evan surveys the studio as I walk over and crouch down in front of Dessa. “You are the greatest piece of art you’ve ever created, Dessa. Don’t ruin it. Let this add shadow and contrast to what you are.” I hope to fuck I’m speaking her art language correctly, and judging by her reaction, I am. “She’s not dead, Dessa. They wouldn’t ask you to find her if she was. But we do need to hurry, and we will help you.” I tilt her chin up, and swollen lips and bloodshot eyes stare back at me. “I promise we will find her, and I’ll keep you safe.”

  She nods and nuzzles her head into my hand before she looks around, taking in her studio. “I can’t believe someone ruined my work.”

  “I�
�m sorry.” I brush her hair behind her ear, away from her face. “I’ll call someone to clean this up. But we do need to report this. Have it on file just in case.” She nods and takes a deep breath as I make some calls. I told her to tell the cops we were out downtown for the evening before we came here.

  Evan walks up to me as she’s talking to the cops. His phone chimes and he looks up to me. “I’m sorry. I have to go. It’s Gracie …”

  “You’re fine. Go take care of her.”

  We both rub our necks and look around before leaving, realizing this shit show just sold a lot more tickets.

  Lying in bed with Cohen is weird. I’m used to the fort, and even kind of miss it. I miss the familiarity, and too many new things are happening lately. I look around my room at the white walls and black and grey furnishings. No pictures. Just things. My head has been spinning the last few days at how different my life is from my sisters, yet both incredibly shitty. I’ve pictured her growing up with a silver spoon in her mouth from loving and doting parents. But this? Being trafficked into Sanctum? I hate thinking about what she’s gone through. What she’s going through. I don’t even know what she looks like or if she’s a good person. But deep down, I know she is, and I wish I could trade spots with her so she wouldn’t have to endure any pain. I hope she’s resilient, strong, and brave. I hope she’s fought every second she could. And I really hope she knows she has someone looking for her who’s on her side.

  “I can hear you thinking,” Cohen rumbles, and I smile into his chest, lifting my right leg over his thick thigh. His left-hand grabs behind my knee and lifts it higher as he turns into me. “I promised you we’d find her. I don’t make empty promises, Dessa.”

  “I know. I just hate thinking about what Rory has gone through. Or going through.”

  “Don’t. You can’t torture yourself with things you can’t help right now. You need to focus on the task at hand. That storage unit I had you ask Dennis about? That’s first on our list today. Then we’ll get to the next person. I promise the deeper we dig, the more we will learn. Trust me.”