Sacred Hope (Divine Gore #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

FOUR MONTHS LATER

The door closes behind me with a loud slam. My eyes adjust to the poor lighting quickly, and I lean back against the metal door, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I don’t say much; there’s no need to. For a while, I just stare at him, not tearing my gaze away from his pathetic face.

“Still haven’t kicked the bucket, I see.” I chuckle, but there’s no humor in the sound. Only pure contempt, distaste, and loathing. He flinches slightly, but given how he’s tied to a chair with a gag ball in his mouth, he can’t say or do much.

I don’t remember exactly what we’ve put him through. Mom and I would alternate between torturing him and trying to extract information out of him. The only rule was not to kill him, and we’d ensure he’s healed as much as possible before the other one would torture him next.

The hatred in his eyes fuels my anger. He dares to hate me, to hate this entire situation, when he’s the reason all of this has happened in the first place.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and suppress the urge to reach for my gun, trying my damn best not to put a bullet between his eyes.

I push myself off the wall and take off his gag ball, not caring to be gentle. He gasps; his lips are bruised, split, and dry. His eyes beg for water, and I give him some, because I can’t have the motherfucker dying from dehydration.

Nelson Adams looks like a shell of his former self.

The usually put-together, poised man is pathetic, at my mercy, at my feet.

He no longer has the strength to beg, to put up a fight.

He’s waiting for us to kill him, and although that’s inevitable, I’m not giving him the satisfaction of snapping and taking his life before I get concrete answers out of him.

Four months.

A hundred and twenty-five days, to be exact, and seventeen hours since Blair was kidnapped.

There hasn’t been a single sighting of her. Nothing that would tell me where she is, if she’s alive, and if she’s okay. I don’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep. If I wasn’t here, torturing Adams, I was with Lucas, trying to locate her.

Paul Simmons has officially started his campaign, and the motherfucker isn’t bothered at all. I’ve put a tail on him, and he’s been followed every single day since he resurfaced, four days after her disappearance.

I’ve sent people inside all of his homes, inside his office, and I even went myself – nothing.

Absolutely no trace of her whatsoever, as if she doesn’t exist. I try to focus on the anger and the hatred toward the four men involved in this, because if I falter for a moment and let myself break down, I’ll never find her.

The water drips down his chin, and I close the bottle, tossing it aside, before pulling a chair and sitting in front of him. Without blinking, I stare at him and watch as his defiant expression starts to crumble.

No matter how strong a man is, four months in captivity, in a dark basement, with limited food and water, torture, and no sunlight is something no one can withstand with no psychological effects.

“Now, shall we chat?”

He flinches, eyes hardening for a moment. “I have nothing to say to you.’’

I nod. “That’s perfectly fine. It’s Noelle’s turn to have fun with you.’’

If possible, he pales even more.

My mother has had her fair share of torturing during her youth, and she’s picked up on the most painful but effective ways to hurt people.

Adams is no exception. His entire body is filled with scars, wounds, and bruises.

I highly doubt he can see through his left eye, given how many times Mom has knocked her fist into it.

“It’s been four months,’” I add. “Four months, and I’m not sure how patient I’ll be. You can either speak, or you can die in the most painful death known to mankind. The choice is yours, Nelson. You’ll die regardless.’’

That’s a bunch of lies. Yes, he’ll die, but it will not be a quick or easy death in any way, shape, or form. Mom will be the one to take his life when the time comes, and she’s free to do as she sees fit. Knowing her, it will be quite gruesome.

“I’ll ask you the same question I’ve been asking you for the past four months.’” I lean forward. “Was it Zoe?”

I already had a feeling from the moment we returned to the base four months ago that Zoe either got nervous and snitched, or she was never on our side at all, and it was Nelson’s ploy all along. Either way, it means that Zoe will no longer be shown the same mercy I was willing to give her.

“What do you think?” He spits out, voice hoarse and cracking. His front teeth have been knocked out, courtesy of my mother. “She is my wife. Did you think she’d work against me?”

I sigh. I’d hoped she would. I gave her a helping hand, and if she had truly helped me, by now, she would’ve been free and Blair wouldn’t have been kidnapped. Putting blame on Zoe doesn’t help the utter and complete mess that my mind’s going through.

I’m the only one to blame for falling for it. I’m the one who’s to blame. I never should’ve brought her along. I never should’ve left her out of my sight.

But hearing him admit that it was his plan is both fucking maddening and terrifying. The fact that I didn’t see through her act is making me second-guess everything, from the smallest details to every single word that she’s spoken to me.

“Where is Blair?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats the same, pathetic answer I’ve been hearing for months. “Paul never told me where he would be taking her.’’

I straighten up in my chair, eyes narrowing at him. It’s the first time he’s said anything else past the ‘I don’t know’, and I’m not trusting him just yet, not now that he’s starting to crack. I could play the bad cop, but that would just make him go back into silence, and I can’t have that.

“What does he even want with her?”

“That girl almost ruined his life by giving his name in court. My life, too. Is it really surprising that he’d want her gone?”

I fist my hand, ready to knock his teeth out.

Blair didn’t ruin their lives; they ruined hers.

The motherfuckers abused her to no end, and although this sick, twisted bastard was only getting off on watching and never touched her, he’s not innocent in any of this.

My blood boils at the mere thought of Blair going through the same thing right in this moment, after I promised to protect her.

I failed.

I failed so fucking badly.

“He wants her dead,’’ I say, slowly.

“Not dead, no. Did you truly think he picked her out of many other women he could’ve picked just because she was pretty?” Nelson scoffs. “Of course not. He picked her deliberately.’’

“Why did he pick her?”

“To get back at her father.’’

My mind starts reeling, and I pause when I finally understand.

Not her stepfather, but her biological father, Alexander.

There are no ties between Simmons and Hawke, and I’m trying to comprehend why the fuck he’d use a child in his schemes, then remember that Simmons is a sick, perverted motherfucker.

“What’s the deal between Hawke and Simmons?”

That’s when Nelson seems to realize he’s spoken too much and stops speaking altogether. With a deep breath, I leave the basement, leaving him tied up, with the gag ball back in his mouth.

At least now, I have something to go on. Too many thoughts are running through my head, too many for me to make any sense of. I did a thorough background check on her father, and not once did I come across him and Paul knowing each other, much less having any sort of bad blood.

I pull my phone out and quickly send Mom a message, letting her know of the further developments.

She responds with a thumbs-up emoji, and I know that she’s on her way to speak with Nelson herself.

Probably, this will be his last time speaking, because now that he opened his mouth, she’ll force information out of him better than I ever could, then kill him in the most brutal way she can think of.

My face is in my hands, and Aria’s sitting next to me.

She’s not saying a word, and I’m thankful she’s letting me have a minute of silence.

She’s worried about Blair, too. Although we’re encouraging that she should continue with her day-to-day activities and let us focus on finding Blair, she’s spending more time with us, trying to help.

I’ll appreciate my little sister for that for the rest of my life.

And with a deep breath, I head to the top floor of the base, which we have converted into an official meeting room, with all of Lucas’ equipment. Aria follows silently behind me, still as silent as before.

Inside are Lucas and Niko, both immersed in something on the screen that I can’t see from where I’m standing, and on the leather chair is Ekaterina, sipping on her whiskey at nine in the morning, looking rather bored with the entire thing.

I don’t trust her, and she’s fucking scary.

Mom says that Kaya owes her a favor, which is now being cashed in.

It was only after Ekaterina officially started working with us that I realized how much we’re lacking in equipment.

She had this entire floor turned into a top-tier tech room in less than two days.

From everything Lucas needs to hack and track the movements of Simmons and the other two bastards to small bugs that we’re planning on sending X to plant around.

They’re extremely thin and small, less than an inch in size, but they work wonderfully.

Lucas turns in his chair and looks at me as I slump into an empty chair. Aria lingers around, eyes on Kaya. I think she’s fascinated by the girl, and every so often, my sister would stare, though Kaya doesn’t seem bothered by it at all.

“X has made contact.’’

My eyes snap to Lucas as he speaks, and I lean in a little. “Go on.’’

All we knew was that X had successfully infiltrated Simmons’ circle. It’s been radio silent for the past four months, and the only indication that he was even alive were small signs he was sending. He’d text his mother; the poor woman thinks he’s on some sort of vacation.

“It’s not much,’” Lucas sighs, turning back to face his computer, fixing the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose. “He just sent a one-word text.’’

“What’s the word?”

“Alive.’’

I suck in a sharp intake of breath. “Who is he referring to? Himself, or Blair?”

Across from us, Kaya snorts. When I glare, she glares back, tilting her head to the side. Her brow twitches a little, and I can only believe it’s in annoyance. She sighs, dramatically, might I add, then straightens up in her seat.

“It’s obvious he meant Blair,” she draws out. “Because it’s pretty fucking clear he’s alive if he’s messaging you, is it not?”

“I’m going to strangle you,” the words leave my mouth in a low hiss, and I can’t stop them.

I’m already reaching for the gun that’s tucked inside my jacket, but Lucas stops me.

He puts his hand over mine, my eyes dipping down to where he’s sitting in the chair.

He shakes his head, gripping my hand tighter.

“She’s not worth it.’’

It doesn’t help. Kaya’s someone very much insane, and she’ll take any opportunity she can to piss me the fuck off. The fact that I need to keep her alive, or rather, am not truly able to kill someone of her caliber, is bringing me to the brink of my own insanity.

Ignoring the smug smirk Kaya throws my way, I focus on the screen in front of Lucas. The message X has sent disappears in a blink of an eye, and there’s not a single trace of it ever being there. Lucas and I exchange a glance, but he doesn’t seem shocked it happened.

“He’s taking precautions,” he explains. “But if he’s referring to Blair in his message, that means there’s still time. We need to hurry. What’s Nelson revealed?”

“Not much.” I grab a nearby chair, taking a seat next to him.

“Just that it’s revenge. Something regarding Blair’s biological father.

Find me everything you can on that man. There must be something we’ve missed or haven’t looked into thoroughly.

I want to know everything. And by everything, I mean his routine, and even the time he takes a dump. ’’

Lucas nods, noticing the serious tone of my voice. He turns to his computer, immediately getting to work. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn my head to the side. Aria offers me a small smile of comfort, which I struggle to return.

My brows narrow.

Aria’s looking different now that I’m taking a good look.

She’s lost a bit of weight, there are bags under her eyes that weren’t there previously.

She’s someone who takes care of herself, showering three times a day, with hair and skin care products more expensive than I’d care to admit.

Yet, she looks like utter and complete shit.

“Aria,” I put my hand over hers. “What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look terrible.’’

“Don’t worry,” she smiles, and I know that the smile’s as fake as they get. “I’m just really tired these days.’’

I don’t believe that, not even for a second. She’s never been the best liar, and there’s something in her eyes, something I can’t put my finger on, that awakens worry inside me. My mouth opens, and I’m ready to start prying until she tells me everything I want to know, but Lucas’ voice cuts in.

“Alright,” my attention is immediately on him. “Alexander has taken a week off work for personal things. This is your chance.’’

I’m out of the chair before he even finishes speaking, rummaging through the drawer that holds a couple of guns. I pick out three, hiding them inside my jacket, then grab my phone.

“Send me the address, and send me Hudson.’’