by Tillie Cole
“What do you mean?” I asked. I could hear the pain in her voice.
Rebekah breathed deeply, then said, “When I returned from Perdition Hill, I—” She cleared her throat. “I was not in a good place.” She absently traced the scar down her face. “I did not want this face anymore, Phebe. I wanted none of it. So I cut myself. I hurt myself to take away the temptation I held for men.”
I had been sure nothing could hurt me more than the past few days, than AK keeping me in his cabin, purging me of Meister’s potion. I was wrong. Knowing that my Rebekah, the girl who had been taken away for being too beautiful, had been compelled to do this to herself . . . it hurt me more than anything on this earth could have done.
And I had been a part of it. Convinced her that her looks were sinful.
“Rebekah . . .” I heard the horror and guilt in my own voice.
“It is okay,” she said. “It took me a while to face those demons, but I got through it. Then . . .”
“Then what?”
“Then it was discovered that I could not have children.” And the remnants of my heart withered to dust. A strange kind of numbness filtered through my body. A numbness I could not explain, as though a switch of some kind had been flicked off within me.
“Everything that had been done to me over the years. What Judah ordered his men to do to me when I was recaptured . . . it was too much on my body. It . . . it broke my heart, Phebe.” Rebekah straightened her back, trying to be strong. I wanted to sweep her into my arms and tell her it was all my fault, that I had stood back and watched it happen. “And then you gave us Grace.”
I winced, the pain stabbing into me like a knife. My beautifully scarred sister, who should never have gone through any of this.
“You gifted us an angel when you saved Grace. By saving her, you saved me. I will never be able to repay you for that miracle. You gave Grace a life. Hers would have echoed mine had you not intervened. Or she would have perished with the rest of The Order.” Rebekah rose and walked around the table to crouch at my feet. “And now you are here too. I . . .” She wiped a tear from her eyes. “I do not know how you did it, but you, my sister, saved us with your act of courage.”
I heard her words, yet I could not give them credence. Because I did not save her. No matter what penance I paid, no matter that I had saved Grace, I had failed my sister, and now I found that it had irreparably marred her life.
“You need not thank me at all,” I said and meant every word. “Grace was meant to be yours. As soon as I saw her, and knew the danger her beauty posed, I had to get her to you, somehow, some way. Because I knew your pure heart would adore her.” Rebekah chased the wetness from my cheeks, and I reached out and held on to her wrist. “I should have said this many years ago and somehow fought for you, come for you. I was wrong to believe what they told us about you. You are not devil-created. I realized this too late, even though I saw your pain. I foolishly believed in the prophet, until I saw our faith begin to unravel before my eyes. I . . . I—”
“Shh.” Rebekah shook her head. “It is over now. We cannot go back.” I wanted to argue that although we could not go back, it was also impossible for some of us to move on. But I held my worry inside. Cautiously, Rebekah asked, “What . . . where have you been, Phebe? What did that man do to you?” Her eyes were full of concern. “You are so thin. I . . . I cannot bear the thought—”
This time I shushed her. “Shh, Rebekah.” I chased the truth from my mouth. “I was not hurt, I promise. I was held by Meister as his prisoner. He was neglectful, but not hurtful to me. Be at peace. I am well. We all are now.”
Rebekah released a long breath, and I watched her shoulders relax, as though an incredible weight had been lifted from them.
She pulled me close and hugged me. I closed my eyes and held back my tears. Rebekah did not need to know of my suffering. She had already endured that and more. Laughing, Rebekah pulled back. “Your food. You must eat it before it gets cold.”
Rebekah sat down opposite me. She smiled at me as she took a sip of her drink, and I forced the food down my throat. I felt the marks on my arm itch. If I’d had Meister’s potion available right then, I would have used it, just to escape this world for a while.
When I had finished the last of the food, I lowered my fork. “Everyone here calls you Lilah or Li.”
She nodded. “I prefer those names. The memories that come with Rebekah can be difficult to relive at times.”
I understood. “Then I will call you Lilah too.”
“Thank you.” She yawned.
“Go to sleep, sister,” I said and got to my feet.
“Are you not tired too?” she asked.
“No, but I could very much use some fresh air. I . . . I did not feel the wind on my face too much where I have been.” I tried to remember if that was true. I couldn’t really recall it, but I was certain it was true all the same.
“There are chairs on the porch. Take all the time you need. You will be safe here, I promise. You are free.”
“Thank you.” I made my way to the door. As I passed Lilah she took hold of my hand, and once again I was wrapped in her embrace. “I find I cannot let you go,” she said, and my heart melted.
“I am going nowhere,” I assured her. “Now get to bed. You are tired.”
I opened the door and stepped out into the fresh air. I heard Lilah walk away, and I relaxed. I could drop all the pretense. But I did not see him beside me. I did not see him sitting there in the dark until I noticed a flicker of movement and the light of a burning cigarette. I jumped and placed my hand over my now-racing heart.
Ky got to his feet. “You scared me,” I said.
Lilah’s husband stepped toward me, a puff of white air splitting the dark. “You lied to her.”
I automatically shook my head in protest, but he held up his hand. “Thank you,” he said raggedly. I blinked in disbelief as I watched the tightness leave his eyes. “I know what you’ve been through, at least some of it. And I saw you in AK’s cabin when he got you out. Yet you told Li you were good. So . . . thank you.”
I nodded, having no words to say. Ky walked to the door. “You can stay here as long as you want.”
He left me alone, his kindness hanging in the air in his wake. It only served to cut deeper. I made my way to the rocking chair that Ky had just vacated. I sat down, relieving my aching muscles, and stared out into the darkness. The stars were bright up above, and bats swooped around the large garden. Children’s toys were scattered around the grass. Lilah was right. This was her home.
Then I thought of her face. Thought of the fact that she could no longer have children, because of what the Elders had done to her. And I hated it all. I wished that AK had not saved me. I wished that Meister’s potion still mixed with my blood, because it made me forget. Above all, I wanted to forget.
I thought of Grace in her bed and Lilah reading to her, brushing a kiss on her head. My heart yearned for a moment such as that. But that hope had died, long ago, and my soul had faded too. The sins I bore in secret made it feel as though my life had no point anymore.
That I no longer had a purpose, now I was here, starting over again, but separated from the missing piece of my heart.
I ran my hand along the marks on my arm, the flesh itching and yearning for what I could not give my thirsty vein. Then my hand hit something beside the chair. I grabbed hold of the object and brought it into the light cast by the lantern attached to the ceiling.
Jack Daniels.
I removed the cap, and a familiar scent filled my nose. Meister would drink this in New Zion. A sudden image of him, drinking after he had joined with me in a dark room, hit me. I flinched when the memory made me feel sick. When I remembered the blood. The pain between my legs. His seed on my skin and the heavenly needle being injected into my arm . . .
He would use this to relax.
I raised the bottle and drank from the neck. The bitter liquid burned my throat. I coughed as it took
the breath from my lungs. But then the liquid traveled through my body and lightened some of the pain I bore.
So I took another sip, and another, and one more, until I felt the pain subside and the image of Lilah’s ruined face leave my mind. Whenever memories tried to infiltrate my mind—Meister’s handlings, Judah’s betrayal—I drank some more. And when the worst of my memories tried to stab me, bruise me, destroy me, I drowned them with the drink, begging them to flee.
Eventually, the world became blissfully numb and my mind became immune to all evil. Yet one image did not leave. AK’s face and kind eyes stayed with me as I watched the bats fly in the midnight sky.
And I was okay with that. Because in this whole mess, he was a shining beacon of hope. The only face that made me feel safe. Because there was a darkness in him too, a fellow traveler on the same uneasy road.
So I let his angel eyes watch over me as I slumped in the chair.
I let them keep me safe.
Safe . . .
Chapter Eleven
AK
Five days later . . .
I drank the beer, letting the cold liquid run down my throat. The night had gotten warmer, so I sat at the back of my cabin, a cooler filled with beer by my side. The sky was black and there wasn’t a damn cloud in the sky.
Vike left for the clubhouse about an hour ago, enlisted Ash to be his DD for the night. I wasn’t thinking about sluts tonight. Fuck, I hadn’t been thinking about them all week. Wasn’t interested in some slut raking at my chest and sucking on my junk.
What was the fucking point?
I looked through my kitchen window to see the clock on the wall. Five minutes to midnight. My eyes prickled with tiredness, but I knew I wouldn’t get more than a couple of hours if I tried to sleep. Because they’d be at the end of my bed in a second. And I really couldn’t stand seeing those fucking faces glaring at me.
They’d given me a couple of days rest, of course. I knew they would. The minute I helped Phebe, helped her purge the fucking heroin from her veins, I knew they’d go for a while. But I also knew that when they came back it would be worse. So much fucking worse. Memories that I thought I’d pushed away for good came back to pelt me between the eyes like a perfect shot. As they stood at the bottom of the bed, they showed me details I’d forgotten. Details I couldn’t fucking think about without losing my damn breath.
But the guilt was worse. Ripping into my stomach like talons.
So I’d stay awake.
Because I really couldn’t cope with those memories right now.
I finished the beer I was drinking and was opening another when I heard footsteps on the grass.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as Flame, avoiding my eyes, came over to where I sat.
“Nothing.” He sat down in the chair next to me.
“Nothing’s wrong? You sure?”
He nodded, his dead, black eyes staring out at the trees. I watched his jaw clench, the knives in his hands turning over in his palms. Since we’d got back from Klan Kunt’s ghost town, the fresh cuts on his arms had healed and his knives were blunt again. He still traced the flesh, but he made no new fresh cuts.
He was back with Maddie.
He was settled.
I sat back in my seat. Whatever Flame came here to say would come out eventually. I tipped back my head, staring at those motherfucking stars.
“You’re being weird.”
I froze, bottle almost at my mouth and took a deep breath. I lowered the bottle and looked over at Flame. His head was tilted toward me, but he never made eye contact. His muscles were tense under his cut, and his eyes twitched.
Shit. I had the fucker worried.
“I’m good,” I said neutrally. Flame’s lips rolled over his teeth.
“You’re lying,” he spat and got to his feet.
I sighed when he started pacing. “Flame,” I said. “I’m good. Stop worry—”
“You ain’t been speaking much, or going to the clubhouse.” His voice was cold and direct, but I could see by the narrowing of his eyes that his mind was racing, trying to understand what had changed within me. “It’s not the right date yet.” Hell, the brother may as well have slammed his iron fist into my stomach.
My hand tightened on the neck of the bottle. I squeezed it until I thought the glass would give way under my grip. I released it and shook my head. “Flame,” I said slowly. “Let it go. I’m good.”
“It’s months away from now,” he continued. “But you’re acting the same as you do then.”
My stomach hollowed out as the memories I kept pushed aside started breaking through my defenses. I saw the blood, heard the fucking screams and smelled the tinny odor that filled the room. “Flame,” I warned, close to losing my shit. I felt the lump climbing up my throat. Felt water hitting my eyes.
“It’s because of her.” He abruptly stopped his pacing. Looking up, I met the brother’s stare head on. I jumped to my feet, fueled by anger at the fact he’d brought this to me now. But I stopped dead when I saw him shaking his head, a damn lost expression on his face. “You’re AK. You don’t do this. Why’re you doing this now? It’s not time. It’s not the right month. It doesn’t make sense.”
I closed my eyes and drew in a long, deep breath. When I opened them again, Flame was rocking on his feet awkwardly. “It’s because of her.” He wasn’t asking a question. People thought Flame was fucked up. His father had told him repeatedly that he was a retard. But the brother was perceptive. He never forgot a thing. And more than that, since the day I helped free him from that nuthouse, he’d made sure he knew me better than anyone. Everyone thought I watched over him. I knew the truth—he watched over me too.
“I’m good,” I repeated and sat down again. I ran my hand down my face. “Sit down, Flame.”
He paused, but did as I said. I took another bottle of beer, feeling the effects of drinking all day beginning to hit me.
“It’s since we took her,” he said. “Since you let her in here with you. She’s made you think of it all again.” I opened my mouth to reply, but he continued. “You don’t sleep. But it’s worse since she’s come back. You sit out here all the time. You’re drinking. You never drink this much.”
I knew there was no point in denying it. For the brother to be here, to have left Maddie in their cabin alone, his concern for me must have been eating him alive.
So I stayed quiet. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna talk about shit that didn’t need to be talked about. I hadn’t since the day it happened, and I wasn’t gonna start now.
“I’ll get through it,” I said after minutes of silence. “I’ll . . .” I swallowed against the choking in my throat. “I always do.”
“You never have,” Flame countered, no emotion in his voice.
“And never will,” I agreed. My voice was raspy, so I cleared my throat. I refused to fucking break down.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Flame said aggressively. “I don’t know how many times you have to be told that shit.”
“And I ain’t ever gonna accept that.”
I refused to close my eyes, because if I did I’d see their faces. I’d see what I should have still had, had I not been so fucking stupid.
“She’s better.” I knew he was talking about Phebe. “Maddie has seen her, and she’s better. Maddie has been watching her for me, for you. You saved her.”
I nodded, the tightness in my chest loosening some. She was better. Fuck, from Flame that may as well have been a fucking happy jig. Red’s face came to my mind. I hadn’t been to see her since she’d been up at Ky’s. I hadn’t even asked how she was. I’d gotten her out, gotten her off the smack. That was enough. Though I’d thought about her pretty much every day. Thought about her out here, looking at the stars. Her reunion with Lilah . . . thought of her face when she saw her sister’s scar . . . of her hand in mine when she had thanked me, so fucking small in her bed . . . her telling me she was afraid . . .
“I don’t . . .” Flame gritted his tee
th. “I don’t like you . . . like this.” The sound of Flame’s low, rough voice made me feel nothing but guilt.
“I know,” I said. “I’ll get through it.”
Flame’s shoulders dropped in relief, then he got to his feet. “Good.” He started to walk away.
“Flame?” I called as my brother’s huge body almost disappeared into darkness. He turned. “You spoke to Ash much lately?”
He was as still as the night. “We worked on the bike today.” The tension was back in his voice. It always was when he feared he’d fucked up somehow. That he’d disappointed me.
“Just keep talking to him, okay? Keep asking him around for dinner and shit.”
“Okay,” Flame said, then without another word, left for his cabin.
“Fuck!” I said to no one. I closed my eyes, letting the alcohol take its hold. I heard the sound of a twig snapping and sighed. “Flame, I promise, I’m good. I just wanna be left the fuck alone.”
I opened my eyes . . . and froze. I blinked when I saw her standing there, watching me. She took a step forward, and another, until she came into the light. It was her hair I saw first, long and down to the middle of her back. She was dressed in a long dark-green dress, tied at the top by some flimsy piece of silk string. The sleeves covered her arms, but fuck . . . the deep color made her freckles stand out more everywhere else.
“Hello,” she said eventually, her fucking sweet voice drifting through the night. I ran my eyes down her body. She was still rail thin, but she looked better than she had five days ago. Had some color back in her white cheeks. The bruising and marks had faded. She had some dark circles under her eyes, but that was about it.
Shit. She was fucking stunning.
“Hey.” I sat straighter in my chair. Phebe’s dropped her head and looked back up at me through hooded eyes. My cock hardened as she started walking toward me.