CHAPTER 10
Cherie sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. “Samuel,” she gasped, looking around. Confusion blanketed her mind then she saw the contract on the table before her. She’d laid her head down and passed out after crying all the tears. She recalled her dream and her chest ached terribly like somebody had bludgeoned her heart. Samuel was married to another woman and they had her son and he was the best father and husband.
The pain of it returned until she couldn’t breathe, as she recalled him turning to her in the dream and the pain in his eyes. She’d broken him and he was just a shell, pretending but he did it so well because he was such a good man and didn’t want anybody hurt. Hiding everything from the world because there was nobody that had his back even while he had everybody’s.
Her tears returned as she realized the terrifying truth. She snatched up the pen and found the signature lines, signing every one of them. “You already own me,” she gasped. “I don’t want anybody else to own me but I especially don’t want anybody else owning you,” she wept quietly.
The door burst open and she screamed then launched from the chair, running into Samuel’s embrace. “I’m yours, I’m yours. Don’t ever leave me, Samuel, I would die, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I ever doubted you and didn’t trust you. I trust you,” she wailed as he hugged her tight and shhhhhh’d in her ear.
“I got you, Ma Cherie. I got you,” he cooed. “I’ll always protect you. I’ll always love you. I’ll always adore you.” He pulled back enough to kiss her. “And your son.”
“Thank you Samuel,” she gasped, kissing him back. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for loving me. Take all of me. I’m yours, everything I have is yours.”
He pushed her robe off and the single bed in the room found her back as he kissed her with the kind of hunger she’d craved all her life. “Own me,” she gasped, fighting to get skin to skin. His cock slid in with a power that crushed every lingering shadow, filling her up with its heat and ecstasy. “Own me,” she begged and wept as he built that terrifying tempo only he could inside her. “Samuel!” she gasped when that hidden man inside him broke free all over her. Oh God have mercy, what a gift, what an impossibly beautiful gift he was. And he wanted her. He loved her. And he surely owned her.
****
Beth raced over to Sahvrin and grabbed for the knife, getting a nice gash on her hand in her efforts.
“Back up, Ma Petite,” he warned, out of breath as he continued cutting himself.
“Stop, I’ll do it! I’ll DO IT!”
“You won’t do it, you’ll throw the knife because you’re too fucking nice to do dirty jobs. And guess what our job requires Belle Eveque, it requires us to do things that are heartbreaking and fucking soul crushing.”
She hurried across the room and found the knife. “I’ll do it,” she yelled, running back and grabbing his arm. “Oh God,” she whispered, the sight of his blood made her dizzy. “I’m counting the marks!” she sobbed when he returned to cutting. “Wait!”
He paused as she wiped her eyes, catching her breath. “I have to cut…nine, but there more than nine already.” She blocked his hand when he returned with his knife then put her blade on his arm. She slid it across his skin bringing her meal from earlier to her throat. Her breaths shook as she gripped his wrist and slid the blade over his arm again. She was getting close to the wrist area and moved to his other arm. She aimed for the top side of it, not wanting to hit veins. It was just cuts. Shallow cuts. On her sixth one, he let out a painful sound, making her gasp. “I’m sorry,” she strained, stopping long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. “It’s just cuts,” she whispered, blinking around the immediate return of tears. “Just two more.”
“Two more, Ma Petite,” he said softly.
His tenderness ripped a sob from her. “Sahvrin…I hate this.”
“I know baby,” he soothed, stroking her hair. “You’re doing great.”
She made the eighth cut. “I hate hurting you,” she ground out, feeling so dirty.
“I know you do,” he whispered.
She pushed his caress away. “I can’t…I can’t feel that right now,” she wept, shuddering with sickness at what she was doing. “I need to finish.” She made her final cut and threw the knife down and buried her head in his lap, sobbing.
He pet her head and shhh’d her while she cried till her guts hurt.
“It’s time to roll again, Ma Petite. You’re not done yet.”
Softer words had never hurt more as she raised her head and looked at him. “What?” She’d heard him and yet her mouth and brain refused to compute what her heart knew.
“Roll the dice Ma Petite. The test isn’t over.”
Beth returned to sobbing in his lap. “I don’t want to be the right hand.”
“You don’t have to be, Ma Petite. It’s not too late to leave this place.”
The pressure in her chest built until she fought for air. “Leave what place?” she barely whispered, anguish twisting her face as she looked at him. “Leave… you? The swamp? Leave us?” she gasped, sucking in gulps of air.
He didn’t need to answer her. It was there in his tormented eyes and nothing had ever hurt more to see. She made her way to her feet, her insides throbbing as she looked at the table. Then the dice. Nameless things swam in her head as she stared, never hating the sight of anything more.
She was at the table now, taking the dice in her hand. She threw them down feeling like she was in a nightmare. She rolled the highest possible number and reached for the jar on the table. She found the paper with the number twelve and opened it. The words blurred and she blinked the tears away. Using the knife, make nine cuts on my chest.
She dropped the paper, her breaths shaking with the rest of her. Same number as the last. Her mind swam as she dumped the jar of folded papers, reading one after the other. They were all the same.
“It’s not fair? It’s not logical? It doesn’t make sense?” Sahvrin said softly. “That’s reality. Things happen that aren’t fair. It isn’t logical. It’s painful. It requires things of us we have nightmares about. Threatens those we love.”
“I know what you’re doing,” she gasped with eyes closed. “I understand it. And…if life ever brings this to my doorstep…I would deal with it.”
“It’s at your doorstep now,” he said quietly. “You need to deal with it. And if you can’t…now is the time to decide that. Because when the real nightmares come, you won’t have that choice. I won’t have that choice.”
“But this isn’t real, this is you making up a stupid test.”
“This blood is real. This pain is real. It’s why you can’t do it, because it’s real. Real, and illogical and unfair. You know I’m right,” he said with regret. “If you can’t function with a little pain, how will you ever manage the bigger?”
She slowly wiped the tears from her face.
“Maybe you would be able to do the right thing in a real situation, Beth. But my position doesn’t allow me to guess at certain things. Some things I have to know. And as my right hand, I have to know that you’re capable of doing the illogical things, the unfair things, the worst nightmare things.”
Beth found the knife on the floor and picked it up. She turned and locked gazes with him for many seconds, vaguely wondering what in her past caused this to be so hard for her. She forced her legs to his side then straddled his lap, holding his stare as she stroked his beautiful chest. “How long…do you want these cuts?” she whispered. “And how deep.”
She closed her eyes, waiting in the silence.
“Three inches long. Half an inch deep.”
She blinked her tears away and nodded, placing the knife at her first spot. She covered the blade with her other hand, locating the cutting edge with her fingers. Grasping it with all her fingers, she slowly moved it over his chest, careful to perform the exact specification. She moved an inch over and repeated the step.
“I love you,” he whispered, bringing a gush of tears to her eyes. She blinked them away, making the third perfect cut, gasping when his fingers stroked her face. “You are so beautiful.”
At the fifth cut, she used her robe sleeve to wipe up the blood flowing down his abs. The glide of his fingers along her neck made her heart hammer as she performed the seventh cut. “Two more,” she barely whispered. She gasped when her tears dripped onto his cuts, dabbing at it. “I’m sorry,” she strained out, moving to the eighth cut.
“Last one sweet angel,” he whispered, gliding his fingers over her collar bone then cheek.
She stared at his chest after the ninth cut, dabbing at the blood flowing. “Should I…wash and bandage them?” she asked, raising her gaze to his face.
He placed his hands on either side of her head and pulled her mouth to his, kissing her with the softest reverence. “You should cut me loose.”
****
It was the first time Bishop had ever made love to her. Beth never dreamed anything could be more pleasurable than his rampage fucking as he’d come to call their marriage joinings but she was so wrong. It wasn’t that it was more pleasurable but a totally different kind of pleasure. It created another facet in the diamond part of their relationship.
But there was no time to bathe in that sweet aftermath because the final test was now. The navigation. She would be given a map to the final rendezvous. She had to use it to find her way alone. The women all had their tracking bracelets on with rescue crews in close vicinity at every location should they need to be reached quickly. Beth wasn’t worried about herself, she knew maps. But what about the other women?
Beth watched Bishop’s inked back muscles ripple as he pulled his t-shirt on. God, she couldn’t wait to finish so she could be alone with him. Even more, she was ready for their official marriage so they got to have their required honeymoon. She loved that it was a law in the swamp to take a minimum of one week to connect with your spouse. The maximum allowance was a year but with everything happening, that would have to remain a wet dream. But a week with Bishop was as good as a year for her. Every second with him felt like stepping out of time and entering an eternal existence.
“So this…lovemaking you somehow pulled off.”
He immediately turned with a string of amazed sounding French, making her laugh. “If ever I need proof of God, I now have it.”
She pulled him on her when he leaned to give her a kiss. “I just wanted to tell you how much I loved it.”
He pecked her lips with his and jerked out of her hold, standing safely next to the bed. “Good. Hold on very tight to that memory. I only had one of those in me.”
She gave a big laugh, grinning at him. “When will our wedding be?”
He threw her damp overalls at her. “Not today.”
She sat up and reluctantly pulled the clothes to her. “I’m ready for that mandatory honeymoon.”
He sat on the bed to put his boots on and she attached her naked body to him, kissing his neck.
“Ma Petite,” he warned, removing her arms from around him. “Get dressed. I promise to fuck you properly if you pass this next test.”
“You want me to pass?”
“No, but I also don’t want to have to rescue you from the swamp again. It’s worse that you’re good with maps because odds are, you’re overconfident.”
“Maybe I want you to rescue me from the swamp again,” she joked, kneeling in the bed and taking her time pulling her shirt on.
When she got it over her head, she grinned at the look of brutal lust on his face. “I love that look on you,” she whispered.
His eyes were still locked on her breasts and judging by the look he wore, her nipples were visible through the material.
“What are you thinking?” she wondered innocently.
His gaze made it to hers finally. “I’m not thinking. I’m fearing for your life.”
She sighed, scooting off the bed. “I won’t get lost!”
He turned and walked to the kitchen side of the room. “I wasn’t referring to the risks in the navigation test,” he muttered, his sexy warning making her breathless.
“I see. Threat detected and noted.”
“And wanted,” he accused, the burning heat in his gaze all over her.
Even from that distance, he made a mess of her thinking and speaking skills.
“Dress. I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Yes sir,” she called as the door shut, grinning with a ridiculous amount of giddy joy.
****
“Keep your bracelet on at all times. I have you here on my phone,” he showed her. “I’ll also be in my Swamp Dragon, so if something happens, I can get to you quickly.”
“Got it.”
“Listen to me. I don’t give a shit if you win or lose this, Beth. I just want you safe. The Fate Dice seem to want you as my right hand and if that’s the case, I want you to ace it. You understand?”
“Got it,” she said, smiling then turning serious at seeing his worry. “I got it. I do. Follow the map to the letter. Get to the rendezvous. Then collect my winnings. Sorry,” she added when he sighed.
Beth focused on playing the astute and terrified right hand to the austere Bishop, treating the test as if it might be her last on the earth. When she was finally making her way to the first point on the map, she let herself grin from ear to ear. She’d taken five minute to study the map just to put his mind at ease. There were five points she needed to reach before rendezvous. The first one was one point two miles away and seemed to connect to Bayou Boudin. Maybe there would be some boudin waiting for her there. That last test had killed her appetite but her winnings had given her a voracious one.
She arrived at the first marker in record time, curious that it was in a motorboat. She looked around and found an envelope taped to the inside of the boat and got it. Please let it say she got to use the boat. That would be awesome. “Yes!” she cried, her prayer answered. It even had instructions for how to start and operate it. She’d better keep that on her person. She read the instructions until she felt confident she knew them without needing to look. She folded it back and put them in the front pocket of her overalls just in case then got busy starting her handy dandy watercraft.
****
Bishop watched the green blinking dot on his phone, relieved that she’d reached the boat. He felt a lot better about her being in that than on foot. He opened the group chat he’d created just for the husbands and texted. Beth made it to the first marker.
Spook was the first to reply. Maggie is arriving at hers now.
Cherie is about three minutes away from hers
Tully just arrived at hers
Bishop let out a breath of relief. They all knew how to swim but they were required to wear life jackets anyway. You can’t swim if you’re somehow knocked unconscious. Bishop watched Beth’s green dot slowly move.
Cherie made it.
Beth is on the move. Two miles till second marker.
Maggie’s moving.
Good, Bishop typed.
Tully is moving. That was fast.
Was he surprised? She seemed slow in a lot of respects but her performance on these tests was more than a little impressive so far. She’s full of surprising talents, he decided to say, hoping he didn’t take offense.
She holds her talents close to her chest I’m learning.
Interesting.
Cherie is moving Seer texted. I was beginning to worry.
Good, they’re all on target, Bishop typed. Making decent time. He returned to watching his Petite’s green dot. Her next location was the Bright Dock. She couldn’t miss it since it was named for its bright green paint. Her next instructions would be found in plain sight. She didn’t even need to get out of the boat. But the last three markers weren’t that simple.
****
Bishop turned off his boat several miles behind Beth and pulled his phone out. Beth is headed to her final marker. And he was fucking relieved.
Cherie is too.
Maggie just arrived.
How’s Tully doing? Bishop typed.
Still three minutes out. Maybe she’s picking flowers.
Bishop chuckled. She likes flowers?
Very much so. I was nearly taken down by twelve daisies. She divines truths with their petals and they’d all lied about my feelings for her.
Bishops brows raised. Wtf.
She asks the flowers questions and uses their petals to divine the answers.
How the hell does she do that? Spook typed.
It’s sort of like our Fate Dice. Yes and no. She pulls a yes petal, then a no petal. The last petal gets the win. Does Lesion love me landed on no for twelve flowers straight.
Bishop busted out laughing at that. That’s brutal.
Very
How’d you get out of that one? Seer asked.
Various persuasions.
Bishop snickered. Say no more. He minimized the text box, checking his green dot. He froze at finding it way off course then opened the text box. Beth’s tracker is way off course. I’m going get her.
He didn’t wait for a reply as he climbed in the seat and started the Swamp Dragon. He watched the green dot as he split the woods with the machines thunderous roar while his brain went through scenarios of what could’ve happened. He glanced at the green dot and his panic grew at seeing she was moving fast.
He managed to call 8-Bit while navigating the winding bayou.
“What’s she doing?” 8-Bit said upon answering.
“I’m headed for her now. Is it me or is she moving faster than usual?”
“She’s moving as fast as she can. Something’s not right.”
“Call the test off. I need Spook and Seer, so somebody needs to get to their women immediately. Lock the fucking swamp down and sound the Revelle Alarm. I’m right on her.”
Bishop hung up, needing both hands to navigate and not accidentally run her over. He glanced at his phone and realized she’d stopped. When he reached her location his panic mounted at not finding anything. He turned off the boat and pulled his firearm from the back of his seat while fighting to get to 8-Bit’s number.
“I’m on location and she’s nowhere around. No sign of her boat, nothing. Like she fucking ditched her tracker.” He looked in the water all around the boat, then searched the trees, fighting to think through worst-case scenarios.
“If somebody is involved, they’re already in the swamp,” 8-Bit said. “I’ve been hawking every entry since we returned from New Orleans.”
“You called Spook and Seer?”
“They’re on their way to you. Stay put.”
“Any leads on our fucking mole?”
“I think it’s a Roullette. One with ties to somebody very close to home. Like Old Man Francois. Somebody cleverly milking information out of him.”
“Or somebody with enough leverage to make him talk.”
“His daughter,” 8-Bit said at the same moment Bishop did.
Bishop turned at hearing a motorboat behind him. “Seer and Spook are here. I’ll call you when I know something.”
“I’ll do the same.”
Spook and Seer climbed onto the boat. “Her tracker is here in this water which means she threw it for a reason.”
“How did the last test go?” Seer wondered.
“It went perfect. It’s not that, she wouldn’t be leaving and hiding it from me. She got rid of it because she needed to which means only one thing.”
“Somebody was chasing her,” Spook said.
Hearing one of his worst thoughts out loud nearly unhinged Bishop’s control. “Help me find her.” There was a far worse thought gnawing a hole in his soul. Whoever was chasing her, had caught her and got rid of the tracker. That would mean it was somebody that knew she had a tracker to begin with.
Seer’s hand hit his shoulder in a hard grip, his eyes fierce on him. “We’ll find her, brother.”
“She can’t be far,” Spook said, climbing back in the small boat. “We need to search in this. Hurry.”
Bishop shoved his gun in the back of his waistband and hopped into the boat, not needing to be told twice.
“You drive,” Spook ordered. “That way,” he pointed.
They drove along the waterway and he raised his fist, signaling he stop. He pointed to the right and Bishop aimed the boat at the path of tall grass showing signs of passage.
It was getting fucking dark soon.
An eternal two minutes later, Seer pointed. “There.”
Bishop’s heart hammered with dread at seeing a boat turned on its side in the long grass.
“Oh God, please, I’m begging you,” Bishop whispered, hurrying to the boat.
Bishop jumped out with Seer and flipped the boat over. “This is her boat,” Bishop gasped, searching all around the waters for a bright orange life vest. “Beth!” he yelled, stumbling in the water. “Beth!” he called as loud as he could.
“I got tracks,” Spook called.
Bishop and Seer spun, hurrying after him.
****
Beth’s lungs burned as she fought to keep her shaky breaths quiet while hiding in the tall grass. The second she’d seen that boat headed toward her, her alarms went off. The first sight of a firearm sent her running and when they chased, she knew her instincts had been right. She’d lost them twice and they found her both times. That’s when it hit her they knew about her tracker. They had to. Which reminded her of that mole Bishop warned her about. When it was obvious she was running out of water to travel by boat, she took to the marsh by foot. She covered her mouth when a sob rose up her throat. Bishop would know by now something was wrong and he was likely in a panic. She’d heard his Swamp Dragon and then she didn’t.
Please God, let him find me soon.
She carefully turned back onto her stomach and crawled through the grass, needing to put distance between her and whoever was looking for her. Felt like she’d crawled a mile when a noise froze her.
“Don’t move.”
Something hard pressed into her upper spine and she held her breath and sob back. Her upper arms were suddenly being cinched behind her back before she could move followed by something covering her head.
She only managed one scream before something that tasted like pine and ash was shoved into her mouth under the head covering before it was cinched shut tightly.
She forced herself to stop screaming, fighting to see through the porous material as something tugged at her neck, forcing her to walk. She realized it was a rope and whoever had the other end of it was taking her for a walk to only God knew.
Tears stung her eyes as she fought to keep her mind steady and alert. She needed to be smart and ready. Bishop had taught her that her chances of escaping an abduction were highest right at abduction. But all his scenarios were in a city, not once you were stuck in the middle of nowhere. Whoever had her knew where he was going. She focused on tracking the ground at her feet. If she managed to escape, she’d need markers to find her way. It didn’t take long before she realized she was marking marsh. Which meant every mark looked the same as the last.
Oh God, please. Please help me. Then show me the way out of here.
****
The brief sound of a scream reached all of them at once.
“This way,” Spook said, running.
Bishop and Seer followed him through marsh for a good five minutes when he came to an abrupt stop.
“Here,” he pointed at the ground. “Struggle?”
Bishop looked around, getting the signal from Spook to not make a sound. He continued searching the area.
“Here,” Seer barely said, not pointing at anything.
Spook made his way to him, looking around carefully. He suddenly took off and again they pursued behind him. The zig zag path felt intentional like whoever they followed didn’t want to be tracked.
Again they stopped with Spook searching the ground carefully. “We’re close,” he muttered.
“She’s here,” Seer whispered.
The second he said it, the sound of a gun cocked at his ear followed by his gun being yanked from his pants. “I have your girl,” a male voice said. “She’s safe. I’ll take you to her. Turn slowly.”
Bishop did, finding a man nearly a head taller than him, upper face covered by the top part of an alligator head. But the double barreled shotgun in his face got most of his attention as he considered his words. He had Beth. And she was safe. “Who are you?”
He raised the mask from his face so it rested on top of his head. “Ruckus.”
Seer made his way to his side, staring hard at the man before them. “I know you,” he barely muttered. He pulled his wallet out and opened it, retrieving a paper all while holding the man’s brilliant blue-eyed stare. He seemed to be in a seeing trance as he handed Bishop his wallet and opened the paper. He raised it up before the man and Bishop recognized the picture Maggie had drawn.
“It’s you,” Seer whispered.
“Holy shit,” Spook muttered behind them. “That’s the dude Maggie drew when she touched you.”
Bishop remembered and compared the image to the man, not entirely convinced.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this day,” the man said, his gaze still on Seer who slowly lowered the paper.
“So have I,” Seer said back.