by K. A Knight
“He couldn’t fight, he wouldn’t live for me. Instead, he let his hate and anger consume him and left me all alone.”
“Baby, that’s not—”
“I know. I do. I was so angry at first, so fucking angry at him. I used it in my fights but eventually, I realized how lost he must have felt to do that.” Shaking my head, I grab his hand again.
“I get why he did it Drax, but I can't forgive him. I needed him and he left me. Ivar used it to hurt me, he laughed and wouldn’t remove his body until we left back for Berserker land. I had to sit in that room for days, watching the only person I care about fade away. Major refused to let me stay in that room after that.” Drax's arms wrap around me as I cry silently into his shoulder.
“Fuck, I had a point, I did.” Pulling myself away I face him. “What I'm trying to say is I hardened my heart, what was left of it. Now I don’t know anything else, but you four have wormed your way in there. I care for you Drax, I do. I can't say the l-word again, not yet. But whatever is left of that broken thing in my chest is yours.”
His smile is brilliant, and like the sun rising, it banishes the dark from the land. He cups my cheek gently and kisses me with such tenderness I have to fight off more tears.
“I can live with that until you’re ready.”
We spend the rest of watch wrapped around each other, laughing and joking, telling each other secrets no one else knows. If someone had told me before that this is where I would be now, I would have laughed. I would have hated myself for showing any weakness, but these men taught me that I don’t always need to be strong and that letting myself feel doesn’t make me less capable.
◆◆◆
The entrance to the small town is blocked by numerous old, abandoned vehicles, including a school bus, a truck, and a lorry. Houses surround the other two sides, with no passage in between them. The third and final side is the church. One road in, one road out. Everything leads back to the church. Fucking Worshippers. Last night went quickly, and we packed up this morning, each touch longer than the last. Before I mounted up, I kissed them all, something that now felt like good-bye as we now face the cult’s settlement.
With a sigh, I turn to look at my men once more before stepping out from behind the trees with my arms up in surrender. My instincts are screaming at me to fight, but for once I don't let them rule me. I hear the guys swear behind me but I concentrate on the guards who are now rushing around and shouting at me. Slowly, I walk until I’m feet away from the entrance to the settlement. Stopping, I wait, sweat pouring down my spine as I fight to stay still. To not reach for my weapons. To not protect myself.
The bus blocking the way partially moves, allowing four men to slip out. The red patch stitched on the sleeves of their jackets marks them as Worshippers. They quickly surround me.
“Name?” One demands, his gun pointed at me. So, this is where they all disappeared to.
“Worth.” They visibly inhale before squaring back up to me, their weapons closer.
“Why are you here? We could kill you.” Another one warns.
“I know. I have a message for Priest.” They shuffle nervously and I smirk, the stories by Worshipper fighters are coming in handy. I just hope I can spot someone I know, and soon.
“What message?”
“It's for Priest, and I don’t see him anywhere.”
“You think we would let a Berserker cunt in to see our leader?” He laughs.
“You worried that you can't handle one little girl?” I say sweetly. A gun gets shoved into my back, making me grunt.
“Oh, so the four men we just caught in the woods aren’t yours?” One of the men asks.
Fucking son of a-
“They are, but I figured you wouldn’t shoot if I came first.”
“Five of you, that’s all?” The first one asks.
“That’s all,” I say honestly.
A familiar guard steps through the gate and rushes to my side, his smile genuine. The massive scar across his neck is healed from the last time I saw him. His head is still shaved, and he's still a big bastard. Probably just a little smaller than Thorn. I met Cal my second year at The Ring when we got paired in a gladiator tandem style fight.
“Worth, you crazy bitch.” He slaps my back in greeting before pulling away and glaring at the guards.
“Let her in.” He orders.
“Sir?” One of them asks, his weapon dipping in hesitation. I really have to control myself so I don’t grab it.
“That’s an order, grunt.” He snarls at them, his face reminding me of why he survived so long in the fights before Priest decided to pull him out.
“Yes, sir.”
Cal turns back to me with a smile. “Come on, what are you doing here? Finally ready to accept my marriage offer?” I laugh as I follow behind him. Turning, I see Maxen and the guys following, looking sheepish.
“I need to see Priest.”
“Worth, I don’t even think—”
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn't important. You know that.” I interrupt, my voice hard.
He sighs before looking us all over.
“Fuck, only because I owe you my life. I'll see what I can do. Until then, you can wait at my house.” I nod my thanks and follow him through the streets.
Well looked after houses line the road to the church. Men carrying various weapons walk freely, their heads up as they glare at us. Women rush by in red robes, their hoods up. Something is niggling at me looking around and I can't figure out what. I keep walking, my eyes taking everything in.
“There are no kids,” I say eventually around a frown. All these women and not one child? Cal looks back at me and then around as some guards come closer. I nod my understanding and follow quietly behind him.
He reaches a house which looks the exact same as the others and ushers us in. Standing in the living room, I cringe at the colourless furniture. Everything is in shades of grey, even the walls. Cal looks out the window and then back at us.
“Stay here while I go see what I can do about that meeting.”
Nodding, I grab his arm on the way by.
“Thank you, Cal.”
“It’s the least I can do, and hey maybe you'll agree to be my wife after, eh?” Laughing, I let him leave and turn back to my men with my hands on my hips.
“What happened to staying hidden?” I fume. Maxen drops to the sofa and watches me with his head tilted back.
“No offence, Mi Alma, but did you really think we would let you waltz into a known cult village alone?” Crossing my arms, I glare at him. Thorn smiles and shuffles to me before pulling me into a hug that drags my feet off the floor.
“Fine.” I groan, unable to stay mad at them, as I uncross my arms and wrap them around his neck. He turns with me still in his arms and dumps me in Maxen’s lap. Maxen’s arms instantly wind around me as Drax and Jax lean against the wall, watching us.
“So, I guess we wait?” Jax asks as he looks around the room. Nodding again, I lean back against Maxen’s chest. I just open my mouth when the front door explodes open and men in hoods come pouring in.
Jumping up, I draw my sword, as does Maxen. With a roar, we attack but there's too many of them. I drop at least three but more swarm in. I watch in horror as Thorn goes down with four on top of him, fighting like a beast.
Drax falls with a cry and Jax jumps in front of him. Ducking, I avoid the man trying to knock my head off. Maxen shouts as he tries to cut a path to me from where we are separated by bodies. I keep fighting even as Maxen disappears from sight.
“Stop, or we kill him.” A voice shouts. Breathing hard, I look around wildly until I see a hooded man with a knife to Jax’s throat. He's fighting, trying to get free, but stops when the knife nicks his throat.
“Drop your sword.” The man warns. Grinding my teeth, I lock my eyes with Jax. He shakes his head, but I let my sword drop from my hand. Curling my now empty hands into fists, I face the man.
“Let him go,” I warn. He laughs and
nods at a man next to me. The last thing I see is Jax growl as something slams into the back of my head with a sickening crunch.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Priest
With a groan, I come to. I wince when the light hits my sensitive eyes and I narrow them quickly, looking around. My men are spread out in front of me in a row, all chained to the floor. Their iron shackles surrounding both wrists, connected to a chain bolted to a ring in the floor. They watch me warily and then their eyes flick behind me. Nodding to show I understand, I slowly push up. Chains rattle, drawing my gaze down to my own bound hands. I growl and yank on them uselessly. Panic wells as old memories slam into me.
“Mi Alma.”
His voice brings me back as I look to Maxen, my rock. He stares at me, offering comfort in the only way he can. Calming, I stop tugging on the chains and concentrate on breathing. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like cardboard. I slowly look over my men to make sure they aren’t hurt. Jax has a trickle of blood at his neck, Maxen has a black eye and Thorn’s hairline is cut. Drax has a cut cheek. So altogether not bad. I push myself into a standing position and turn as much as the chains will allow me to.
There, watching everything, is a man with the hood of his cloak pulled up. I’d guess he is the man from before.
“So, you’re the one they are looking for?”
Yep, the one from before. His voice grates on my sensitive nerves and sends pain shooting through my head. With a flourish, he pulls the hood down, revealing an average looking man with salt and pepper hair. I don’t bother talking but my eyes run over the room, trying to find a way out. Two more men stand at the only door in and out of what I'm guessing is a basement. The stairs leading up look old and decayed and the smell of damp and musty air has me nearly sneezing. A small window is letting in the light in the corner, so we can't have been out that long unless it's been twenty-four hours.
“You will answer me when I speak or there will be consequences.” His voice is full of unwavering condescension, like he expects me to cower and beg. I straighten my spine and meet his gaze boldly before smiling slowly. He snarls before his face wipes clean.
“As you wish.” He steps towards me, watching for any sign that I will give in. I keep that same sarcastic smile in place and brace myself for the pain I know is coming. I’m betting this guy isn’t nearly as good at torture as Ivar.
Stopping before me, he grabs my cheek in a rough grip before his hand runs to the back of my head and presses in the wound his men made. Searing agony races through me. I hear my men shouting and growling, but I tune them out. I bite my tongue to stop my cry from coming out as pain spikes through my head again when his thick fingers press harder. Dots dance in front of my gaze, but I lock my feet in place. When I don’t make a noise, he looks at me in confusion. Stupid fuck, if he only knew that I perfected the art of staying silent. After all, any little noise would only spur Ivar on. He loved to hear me scream and cry, it was his own version of ecstasy.
Anger darkens his face as he cocks back his fist and punches my stomach. The air is knocked out of me and I bend over, catching my breath. When I can breathe normally, I ignore the pain and straighten once again with that same sarcastic smile on my face. How boring and predictable. I mean really, could he not get creative with his techniques? Using his fists, how primitive.
“I'm going to skin you alive you son of a bitch!” Drax shouts from behind me, the hate clear in his desperate voice. My men carry on shouting threats but I focus on the man in front of me. If I offer them reassurance it would be a lie, I know I can survive this I just wish they didn’t have to watch.
“Are you the one The Berserkers seek?” He shouts, spittle flying from his mouth and hitting my cheek. When I don’t answer, he pummels into my stomach with both fists in quick succession. Sucking in air, I gasp as I bend over to protect it. He grasps my hair and yanks my head back until I’m looking at him. In his hand, he has one of my blades, the knife shining in the light. Oh, this is going to hurt.
“Answer me.” He warns in a deadly voice. My smile is slow and pained but it does the job. With a snarl, he slams the knife into my already pained shoulder. I swallow back the scream, biting my tongue in my efforts. Swallowing rapidly I suck down the blood and bile. Motherfucking twatbag, wanker, dog fucker-
“Are you Ivar’s pet?” His voice cuts off my internal creative insult stream.
“I’m going to kill you,” I warn. He flinches as he watches me, probably seeing his death written in my eyes.
Blood dribbles down my lip and on to my chin and I spit it at him. Laughing crazily, I watch as he recoils and wipes his face on his cloak.
“Fucking crazy bitch. Fucking animal!” He screeches as he rubs his face desperately.
“You missed a spot.” I gasp out between painful laughs. He backhands me, my face snapping to the side before I turn to face him only to watch as he rushes up the stairs, still scrubbing his cheek. For a torturer he sure doesn’t seem to like blood, I muse.
“Follow me and lock the door behind you!” He screams at the guards at the door. They rush out after him as I hear the tumblr on the door drop into place. Spitting the rest of the blood on the floor at my feet, I grimace at the pain radiating throughout my whole body. I feel like I went ten rounds in The Ring.
Sands below, I forgot how much I hate torture.
“Baby, answer me please!”
“Tazanna, answer me this second!”
The voices blend together, their anger and worry hurting my sore head.
“Fuck, I’m fine. Chill.” It goes quiet and I manage to turn slowly in my chains, being careful not to move too fast in case I pass out or throw up. I'm going to rip that motherfuckers cock off when I get my hands on him, then I’m going to feed it to him and sew his mouth shut. The thought helps lessen my anger, not by much, but enough to think clearly.
I face the guys and offer them what I hope is a happy smile. It must fall flat because Drax looks close to tears, Jax looks murderous. My sweet Thorn is cold and Maxen? Sands below, I would not want to be on his bad side at this moment.
“Are you ok?” He enunciates every word slowly like he’s trying to control his anger. Looking into his eyes, I see death. His chest seems double its normal size and his arms are bulging against the chains on his wrists. His nostrils are flaring.
“Yeah, I've had worse. He hits like a pussy.” I laugh, but they all stare at me. Then turning to each other only Maxen’s eyes stay on me like if he looks away he might explode. I hear them start to discuss a plan, but I tune them out, making one of my own. Fuck! My head hurts. It feels like that time I went on a four-day binge. Damn, that was a good week. After I get out of this, I am grabbing a bottle, or two, or whiskey, and locking us all in a room.
Ignoring them, I reach up and finger the blade the man left in my shoulder. What an idiot. I knew if I got him mad enough he would forget it was there. Gritting my teeth, I grip the handle firmly. My eyes lock on Maxen’s as I pull it from my shoulder.
“TAZ!”
“FUCK.”
The agony rocks me as the knife rips through muscle and skin. When it slides free, I drop my head and breathe deeply to stop from passing out. My ears are ringing and my eyes are unfocused. That can’t be good.
“Baby, what the hell...—” My ears pop and I can hear them again.
“I’m fine.” Lifting my head, I see them all trying to get out of their chains to reach me, their worry palpable. The smell of my blood seeps into the room as it runs freely from my wound. At least it doesn’t smell old down here anymore. I look at my shoulder with a frown. Damn, another scar. Well, not like it will make much of a difference, but soon I will be all scar tissue. I finger the edge of my ripped top around the wound. The end of the world sure is hard on a girl’s wardrobe.
“You ready to blow this joint?” I ask as casually as I can with the pain still riding me. I drop my hand from my shoulder and face them again. Jax snorts out a desperate sounding laugh as the res
t blink at me incredulously.
“Alright, boys. Watch and learn, and keep the volume down will you? I don’t want them hearing and coming to check things out while I’m mid-escape.” They all nod and I wink. Relief hits their faces. Shit, I guess I look worse than I feel.
Cracking my neck from side to side to try and relieve the pressure, I grip the blade in my mouth and concentrate on the chains. I felt the pull in the cuffs earlier and know I can break free. I guess Ivar did teach me some things.
Shimmying my hands into my jeans pocket, I grab the tiny piece of a soda can that I keep in there, just in case I was ever caught again. Pulling it out I slide it into the teeth of the cuff and push it down over the serrated edges until it meets the middle. Pressing the cuff into my leg it locks in tighter squeezing painfully before it catches. Then I easily slide the cuff off. Repeating the same on the other hand, I drop the cuffs to the floor and grab the knife from my mouth. Looking up, I see they are all blinking at me until Maxen laughs humourlessly. I throw him a wink and look around.