The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn)

by Cecilia London

  “They gave me the green light with you tonight,” he said. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Caroline looked over his shoulder. One of the guards carried a spool of rope, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the hooks in the ceiling.

  Oh no.

  She tried to fight back. Her brain told her to battle, to resist, not to cave. It didn’t matter.

  They ripped off her shirt and bra, bound her wrists, and hung the rope from one of the hooks, until she was standing on her tiptoes. Thankfully, that part was over quickly. The guards then exited the room, looking quite disappointed, leaving her alone with the biggest sadist in the building. They hadn’t been allowed to touch her aside from the clothing removal because as Murdock put it, “He wouldn’t want them to behave in an ungentlemanly manner.”

  They’d busted up her face, shattered her fingers, killed her friends, killed her family, psychologically and physically tortured her, tied her to the fucking ceiling with goddamn rope coiled so tight it tore into her already raw wrists, and Caroline was expected to be grateful that they hadn’t sexually assaulted her?

  Fuck them. And fuck that twatfucker Murdock in particular.

  He came up behind her and placed a hand on her back. Cold as ice. His touch made her feel nauseated.

  “It’s just you and me,” he said. “The guards turned the cameras off before we came in, although I assure you, they very much wanted to watch.” He pivoted to face her. “At least, they said they turned them off. Some of my friends may have decided to stick around and enjoy the show.”

  Her voice was weak, wiped out from the lack of fluids. “Fuck you.”

  He smiled. “You’ve had this coming to you for a long time, and I’m going to relish every minute. I’ve had a lot of time to plan. So many hours spent wondering what I’d do to you when I finally got you alone. Granted, I never had the opportunity until now. If only I’d been able to do this years ago.”

  She didn’t want to think about it. Caroline pursed her lips and didn’t say anything.

  “Cat got your tongue? I guarantee you won’t be silent for long. I heard rumors about how you and Jack used to get into some kinky shit. Nothing substantiated, mind you, but some really good stories.” Murdock walked around her slowly. “Tell me, Caroline. Did you like Jack to beat you? Whip you? Degrade you? Was that part of your little game, how you both got your thrills?” He laughed. “Such a shame he wasn’t captured along with you. Just think of what we could have done to you while we made him watch.”

  What an appalling idea. She wasn’t going to respond. He wanted that. Wanted to twist the knife again, throw something else in her face. But he seemed to read her thoughts anyway.

  “You think he’s still out there, don’t you? Fighting the good fight, helping your grand cause? Face it, Gerard. He’s only looking out for himself. Always had, always will.”

  Lies. Dirty fucking lies. Meant to play on insecurities, to wound, to stab, to kill her more than once. Caroline gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to think about Jack. She wasn’t going to think about how much she missed him. How much she needed him. She wasn’t going to think about how much pain she was in or how much it might continue to hurt. And she definitely wasn’t going to think about what Murdock was going to do to her as he slowly undid his belt and removed it from his pants.

  She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

  * * * * *

  It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. He’d taken a couple of breaks, he’d gotten so tired. She didn’t cry out, didn’t say a word. Defiance was her last remaining weapon. Perhaps a tear or two slipped down her cheek, she didn’t know. Her stoicism made him angrier, and Murdock didn’t cease his actions until he accidentally hit the wall and the belt and buckle broke apart.

  “I think that worked quite well,” he said. “Don’t you? I bet you loved every minute of it. Such divine marks.”

  Caroline tried not to retch as the pain radiated through her body. Her back was shredded. She didn’t know much anymore, but she knew that. The blood was pouring down her shoulders, over her spine, pooling near her waistline. She wanted to pass out, to die, anything. Anything to let her escape from this. She blinked rapidly. She didn’t want Murdock to get the sick satisfaction he’d derive from watching her break into a full-blown ugly cry. She would retain some self-respect, no matter how little she had left.

  “You put up a good fight. I tip my hat to you.” He circled her like a hawk eyeing its prey. “But still you lose.”

  It was a struggle to speak but words were the only power she had over him, even if they came out in a croak. “All this trouble just for me. You must really hate women. Or have a tiny dick.”

  Murdock reared back and backhanded her. “You’ve got a smart mouth,” he hissed. “If you were my woman, I’d have any number of ways to keep it occupied.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Don’t say that.” He trailed a finger down her torso, stopping at her stomach. “We could have had so much fun together.”

  Was this his version of foreplay? She didn’t want to find out. “If you try to take my pants off, I’ll puke on you.” Or piss. Or bite.

  He laughed. “You think I want a piece of you now? You’re a disaster.” He grabbed one of her breasts. “Although these are still nice. I’m glad the boys finally got to see them. Look but don’t touch. Had to throw them something, you know? It’s a shame you wasted them on McIntyre.”

  Murdock leaned in closer, his hand still clenching her breast. His voice was a low whisper. “He’s dead. All of them are dead. Your family. Your friends. That kike Goldman, that dyke you hung around with, and that whiny bitch who took your seat. All because of you. Was it worth it?”

  Caroline struggled in the ropes, trying to get away from him, but it was no use. She cried out from the pain. Her shoulders were about to come out of their sockets.

  Murdock laughed again, withdrawing his hand. “You poor thing. And your night isn’t even over yet.” He pulled a small item out of his pocket. “Know what this is?”

  He held it up. Caroline tried not to panic as he flicked it open. It had an ornate carved handle, and the silver glistened in the low light in the room.

  “This is one of my personal favorites. I have an extensive assortment of weapons in my collection,” Murdock said. “In case you thought I limited myself to – how did you put it? Oh, my pretty princess tool set.”

  Fuck. He’d latched onto that one. It was obvious from his demeanor. It didn’t matter now. She could have been as sweet as syrup and he would have found a way to turn it around on her.

  Murdock twisted the blade in his hand. It had to be at least five inches long. “It’s one of my less expensive pieces, but it’s by far the sharpest.” He slid it along the top of her breast with the slightest bit of pressure. She could feel it drawing blood. He pressed it deeper, smiling at her. “Did I ever tell you how skilled I am with a knife?”

  Caroline bit the inside of her cheek as a new, more terrifying pain hit her. This was it. This was the end. She was going to die, probably in a very ghastly way.

  “I hope your principles are a comfort to you as you bleed out.” Murdock smiled at her wickedly. “They aren’t going to do you a damn bit of good once they throw your corpse into the incinerator with the rest of the traitors.”

  He wrapped a fist around her hair and yanked up so she was facing him. “You’re going to die in this disgusting cell, Caroline. Alone. Slowly and painfully. It’s a shame I won’t be in here to watch you take your last breath, but I’ve got plans with a hot slut who’s far more attractive and much more pliable than you.” He slapped her face once more for good measure, the handle of the knife striking her cheek with startling force. Murdock laughed as he brought the tip of the blade to her stomach. “Shall we get started?”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The Past

  “There’s enough American and Canadian currency to get you across the border. Fake passports are
in the car. Prepaid phones are in the glove box.” Caroline handed Christine an envelope. “This is the information you’ll need to access the bank accounts we set up for the girls. There should be enough to last them until we can get up there.” She didn’t bother pointing out that the money, which would have been their inheritance, would likely last them generations over.

  “Foreign bank accounts,” Christine huffed. “So much for your ethics.”

  They’d tossed out a lot of their standards over the past month. Breaking through firewalls, hacking into networks, thievery. Perceived tax evasion was the least of their concerns.

  “We saw the writing on the wall,” Caroline said. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m carrying around a lot of guilt about that decision. But it was necessary.”

  “I was kidding.”

  Christine had copies of the trust paperwork and knew damn well how it had been organized. Caroline should have recognized the obvious joke. Her nerves were overriding her logic. “Oh.”

  Christine started to say something then abruptly turned away, fiddling with the medal around her neck.

  “Chrissy, don’t do this now. We can’t. You need to go.” Caroline knew that Christine was holding back tears and couldn’t look her in the face. “I need you to do this. Please.”

  Christine composed herself quickly, turning around and taking Caroline’s hand. “I know.”

  They walked down the foyer to where the girls were waiting with Jack, their backpacks in tow. He gave them both fierce hugs. “I love you,” he said hoarsely. “We’ll see you soon, I promise.”

  Jack cleared his throat, avoiding Caroline’s gaze. “Well,” he said. “I’ll be in here.” He dashed into the study and shut the door behind him. He’d be damned if he let Christine Sullivan see him cry.

  Caroline turned to her eldest. “Mo, I need you to be brave for Feef. Aunt Chrissy and Uncle Tom are going to get you to where it’s safe. Jack and I will be there as soon as we can.”

  Marguerite studied her, still unconvinced. “Are you sure?” She looked down at her sister, who gazed upon their mother with fear in her eyes.

  “Why can’t you come with us?” Sophie asked.

  Caroline kissed her youngest daughter’s forehead. They tried to talk about it repeatedly, but to no avail. She’d been feeding both her children the same lines for the past day and a half. “Feef, we have some things we need to do here first. Things to help make it right again. We-” She would never be able to adequately explain or justify why she and Jack couldn’t leave with them. Caroline turned again to Marguerite. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was necessary. You know Christine, Tom, and Jess will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

  She’d said a swift goodbye to Jess earlier, while Jack was still with the girls. She loved Jess, she knew how much Jess cared about her daughters, and the two of them didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. It was very hard saying goodbye to her. Jess made it quick so that she could take a few minutes to pull herself back together in the car before they left. She was determined to be strong for Marguerite and Sophie.

  Marguerite nodded. “I know they will.” She gulped. “Mom-”

  Caroline willed herself to keep her emotions in check. “I love you and your sister so much. Don’t you ever forget that. Jack and I will be with you as soon as we can.”

  Marguerite leaned in for a hard hug. “Promise?”

  She prayed she could keep her voice from shaking. “Promise.”

  Tom came stumbling in, bringing a surge of snow with him. “We’d better get a move on. Word is that the borders here in the Northeast are a nightmare. May not be open much longer.”

  Caroline hugged her children tightly. “Go with Tom. No more time to waste.”

  Marguerite and Sophie were both crying openly now, with Sophie gripping Caroline’s waist.

  “Mommy, I don’t want to leave you,” she cried. She hadn’t used that term for her mother in years.

  “I know.” Caroline’s voice broke. “But I need you to do this. This is the only way Jack and I can keep you safe.” She reluctantly let Marguerite go but held Sophie for a long time, drying her daughter’s tears and kissing her hair. She turned again to her eldest. Sophie refused to let go of her. It made her next words all the more important. “I’m counting on you, Mo. Take care of your sister.”

  Marguerite threw her arms around her mother’s neck in one last embrace. “I will, mom. I promise.” She kissed Caroline’s cheek. “I love you.”

  Caroline noted that Marguerite was now taller than her. How had that new development escaped her in the past few weeks? She clutched her tighter, not wanting to let her walk out the door. “I love you, my Mo Mo.”

  “I know.” Marguerite pulled back first, then squeezed her mother’s hand.

  Caroline turned to Tom and hugged him quickly, her hand still clasped with Marguerite’s. “Be safe,” she said.

  He held onto her long after she’d let go, kissing the top of her head. “Sure thing, Punky.”

  Sophie and Marguerite withdrew from their mother and Tom hustled them out the door. Caroline could hear Sophie starting to cry again as the door shut behind them. A small sob escaped her lips and she turned again to Christine. “I can’t-”

  “Then don’t.” Christine took Caroline in her arms and held her very tightly, a rare initiation of affection from an extremely reserved woman. But she’d been more effusive the past few times they were together. Caroline didn’t want to analyze it too much because she didn’t want to upset herself.

  Jack came out of the study holding one of their black backpacks. His eyes were still watery. “There are four pistols in here with plenty of ammo.”

  Christine let go of Caroline and glared at them both. “Seriously?”

  Caroline pulled herself back together. “Promise me you’ll use them if it comes to that. The time for nonviolence is long gone. They aren’t going to treat any of us with kid gloves anymore. I know how you feel about guns but you’re going to have to readjust your perspective. I’ve been to the range with Tom; he knows how to use them. So does Jess.”

  “Are you telling me that my gay daughter is now a gun toting lesbian?”

  “Pretty much. She has a thing for women in uniforms. Be sure to use that if you need to slip by the Border Patrol.”

  Christine rolled her eyes. “You two do enjoy your little jokes, don’t you?”

  Jess had revealed her sexuality to Caroline before telling her own family. It was still a sore point with Christine, though she was trying to work through it. Her relationship with her youngest daughter was an ongoing ideological and emotional battle. Caroline could only hope that it wouldn’t cloud Chrissy’s judgment while traveling.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to hash out your stereotypes of each other during the car ride,” she said.

  Christine took the bag as Caroline let out a shaky breath. Jack shifted over to put his arm around his wife. “Keep it together, now,” he whispered.

  Caroline gave Christine a despairing look. They’d waited too long. They had waited far too long and the road ahead was full of danger. “I’m trusting you, Chrissy. I know you’ll keep them safe. Don’t let the government take them. Don’t let them hurt them. Don’t-”

  Christine cut her off and clasped Caroline’s hands. “Your daughters are safe with us,” she said clearly, in contrast to the brightness in her eyes. “You know that. We’ll get them to Ottawa.”

  Caroline grabbed her in a fierce embrace, not wanting to let go. “I love you. Please take care of my children. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I know you will, Punky,” Christine said.

  She couldn’t help but smile. “You almost never call me that. Not anymore.”

  “Maybe I should have said it more often.”

  Caroline tried to tamp down the panic rising in her throat. She didn’t want any of them to leave. She hugged Christine again, burying her face in the cashmere wrapped around her n
eck. It smelled like Christine’s perfume, and Caroline took a deep breath as her tears dripped onto the expensive scarf. “Be safe,” she said in a muffled voice. “Please, please be safe. We’ll be there soon, I promise.”

  Christine pulled back and delicately wiped the tears from Caroline’s face before wiping off her own. “I believe you,” she said. “America’s Political Sweetheart never disappoints.” She cupped Caroline’s face in her hands and kissed her on both cheeks, then leaned in until their foreheads were touching. “I love you, Caroline.”

  She kissed Caroline’s forehead a final time before taking a deep breath and turning to Jack. Christine grabbed his shoulder harshly, not making eye contact. Her face was still wet. “Protect my girl,” she said.

  And then she was out the door, leaving a burst of winter wind in her wake. Caroline stood in the foyer with her arms crossed, staring at the grand entrance to the Governor’s Mansion. She lingered there for an agonizing amount of time, willing them all to come back long after she and Jack had heard the car pull away.

  Jack squeezed her shoulder with a shaking hand and she came apart. Caroline collapsed onto the marble floor and began to hyperventilate, crying deep, racking, unbearable sobs. His strong arms encircled her from behind, lifting her up, pulling her toward him. She grabbed onto his sweater, sobbing hysterically until her throat hurt, holding on to him as tightly as she could. He rocked her back and forth on the cold marble, his tears blending with hers. Together they wept for what seemed like hours until they silently rose and walked up the stairs alone.

  Caroline could still smell the sweet flowery fragrance of Sophie’s hair, could feel her shaking as she clutched her hippo and held tightly to her mother’s waist. She could still hear Marguerite’s trembling yet confident voice, wondering how on earth she could have produced such an amazingly strong, mature child, who had held up better than any of them during the past twenty-four hours. She could still feel Christine’s arms wrapped securely around her, closer than she’d ever held Caroline before. In nine years of friendship she couldn’t ever recall Chrissy telling her that she loved her, even though Caroline knew how she felt. She was terrified that she would never hear Christine say it again. They were no longer there. Jack was all she had left.