Chapter Nineteen
Chef
Fuck. Me. Nausea roils my gut, I have no control over my limbs and I don’t know why.
I feel clumsy, slow, tossed and turned with no idea which way is up and which way is down.
All I know is that I have Damian’s voice in my head, but that can’t be right.
He’s at the Keep and I’m…here. Wherever here is.
I think it’s a box. Has to be. I remember Nathaniel having one of his high pants goons roll in a casket.
It was a plain pine box. Not leopard print.
I huff a pained laugh picturing Sage’s face that night I told her about the casket Nancy had in her showroom.
The way her eyes danced and the sound of her giggles.
They’re good memories. And all I have to hold onto.
My thumb rubs along the silicone ring that Sage gave me.
It’s been my only comfort knowing that before I leave and turn to dust, I married the girl of my dreams.
“Where’s the asshole?”
Huh. I even hear her voice too. I must be in a bad way.
“Joe, get ready. Justice, you’re with me. Loyal, point that big fucking gun the other direction. Jesus Christ you’re scaring me!”
Wait.
“Cher! You made it!” Damian’s voice rings out loud and clear. Why the fuck am I hallucinating about Damian?
“Yeah, now why the hell are you bleeding and where the hell is he?”
“One of them questions can be answered after you finish his ass. And he’s waiting for you at the altar.”
OK. No matter how much like death warmed up I feel there’s no fucking way I’d hallucinate all this shit. Which means, Sage and the crew really are outside of wherever the fuck I am.
Finding my voice I yell as loud as my hoarse throat can handle.
The sound comes from the depths of my soul, and that’s when my fight kicks in.
When my hands and feet finally come back online, I start thrashing.
Punching, kicking, anything to get someone to hear me.
To know that I’m here and I’m alive and more importantly, I want to live. I want the life I promised Sage.
“Holy shit, Takoda? Takoda!” My girl's wails are like music to my goddam ears.
I fight harder and then light hits me and my eyes screw shut, pain blasting in my head at the suddenness of everything.
“Takoda!”
“Babe?” I gingerly open my eyes and try not to fight when hands grab me roughly and yank me up and out of whatever prison I was being held in, setting me on my feet.
“Takoda!” Sage yells, throwing her arms around me.
I flinch slightly but that doesn't stop me from crushing her to me. This is all I wanted while I was being broken down. Sage.
“Where is he?” Sage seethes. She moves to step back but I don’t want her to go. Not yet.
“Make him wait,” Damian says. “You just got your man back. Preacher man can wait a few.”
I give Damian a grateful smile. The big man just grins and moves to stand closer to his best friend. Justice hands him some zip ties and his grin gets even wider.
“You know how many are inside?” I ask. As shitty as I feel, I know my girl is itching to get this shit over with.
“You mean all up, or the live ones?” We all turn to stare at Damian, easy smile on his face.
“Uh, live ones?” Sage asks, side eyeing me.
“Two. They ain’t moving nowhere fast, mind.”
Sage moves a little in my arms, tipping her head back to stare up at me. “How long?” My brows pull in, unsure what she’s asking. “How long did they beat you until you repented your sins?”
Swallowing, I think back. They kept me in a dark room. Fed me at erratic times. There was no point of reference for how long I was there.
“What day is it?” I ask, hoarsely.
“Wednesday.”
Fuck. It’s been three days. Three days they worked on me until everything went dark. Until I found myself here.
“How long, Takoda?” Her eyes search my face, my jaw as it clenches, follows my gaze as I stare at the ring on my finger.
“I never repented.”
Sage stiffens, stepping back, her eyes on me. Fury colors them even darker in her pale face and I know I’ve unleashed something dangerous. I’m a lucky fucker because I know this woman will burn the fucking world down for the people she loves. And she’s all mine.
Sage
I always thought rage was white hot. That’s how Mom described it.
That when she looked into her father’s eyes, wishing for him to repent and him refusing to, the rage she felt was hot.
Burning. Like lava in her veins. It’s a weird thing.
Thinking you know what you’ll feel based on other people’s experiences.
Because here and now, standing in front of my husband?
The rage I’m feeling is cold. Cool in my veins, turning everything to ice.
Takoda reaches for me, but I step back, slowly shaking my head.
My gaze travels down his naked chest and stomach, the once smooth, dark skin now mottled with burns.
His strong arms littered with tiny cuts.
My gaze meets his for a moment before I move to stand behind him.
I hold in my gasp as I lay eyes on his back.
Flesh torn open. Skin ripped apart by whatever tools of cruelty they decided to use.
The blood on the back of his jeans hints that what I’m seeing goes further.
I cup his ass gently and tip my head back in relief when Takoda stands strong, unflinching.
“They didn’t do that.” Takoda’s rough voice croaks out. “Tried other things, but not that.”
His words do nothing to heat the ice in my veins. Instead they cool even further. The clarity in my mind is so peaceful, so perfect because I see what I need to do.
“Sage?” Loyal asks in a quiet voice.
I meet her gaze, then that of Justice, Joe and Damian. “Nathaniel is mine. He doesn’t die here.”
They nod and I move toward the doors of the church.
I only look over my shoulder once, eyes on Takoda, willing him to stand down, just this once.
He nods wearily at me, leaning on Loyal as she guides him to the DRMC SUV.
I know she’ll take care of him. My man needs fluids and probably something in his stomach.
He needs his energy back so I can care for him, help heal him. Later.
Taking a deep breath I step up to the doors, ready to kick them open, but instead, they swing open with a gentle creak. I look up at Damian, soft smile on his face as he holds the door for me.
The church is eerily silent except for the sharp intake of breath Justice emits. I stare at his profile, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene.
“Thank god you’re on our side,” Justice mutters.
Damian takes a deep bow before strutting down the aisle and taking a seat in one of the pews, arms stretched along the wooden back, boot resting on his opposite knee.
I share a look with Justice who stoically nods once, making his way around the pews to where there are chino clad bodies neatly stacked.
“Holy -” Joe whispers, her voice cutting off. She stares at me, eyes bugging out before she somehow shakes it off. She jabs a finger in Justice’s direction. “I’ll go help, ah, with the disposal.”
“Sounds good.” It’s the first time I’ve used my voice, the rough sound shocking to my own ears as it echoes in the cool, dim light of the church.
Somehow I find that comforting. The air in here matches that in my lungs.
Cool. Calm. Yet oppressive. Damian starts whistling When the Saints go Marching In, and somehow, it seems fitting.
Especially as I make my way to the very front of the church.
Nathaniel is facing away from me, his head resting on the warm wood of the pulpit, his arms hooked over the sides, as if it's the only thing keeping him standing.
Stepping up onto the raised platform I circle Nathaniel slowly. I want to see exactly what Damian has done to him. I’m not disappointed as I stare at his mangled jaw, dripping with blood, teeth missing. His lips are swollen, as are his eyes, although not swollen enough to not know I’m here.
Nathaniel tries to smile, but I don’t miss his whimper.
“Please, please, I had nothing to do with this, this, whatever this is! Please, let me go!”
My head snaps to the side, eyes landing on the fat camel toe man. I watch as he snivels, curled into a ball on his side.
“Oh yeah, I kept him,” Damian says, waving in the man’s direction. “I want to know why the hell his camel is so big. And I figured he’d be easy to break.” He wags his eyebrows in the man’s direction, causing him to shriek and curl even tighter into himself.
“Joe?” I call out, not taking my eyes off camel toe man.
“On it!” she says cheerily.
She skips up onto the platform, perkily making her way to the man. She bends a little, hooking him under the arm. “Hey there, buddy. We’re gonna get you outta here, OK?” she says in her warm, southern accent, coaxing him to go with her.
I watch as Joe shuffles him toward the door, stifling my laughter when the man shrieks again as Justice throws a body over one shoulder, following them out.
“Cunt.” The word is spat at me. “You waste of fucking space. Do you know what you’ve done? Who you’ve angered?”
Nathaniel watches me with cold eyes, his chest heaving with anger. He spits blood in my direction, whimpering again when he tries to pull himself up to his full height. I have no idea what Damian did to him, but I bet $100 he’s pissing blood.
I watch him until I can’t take anymore. I know what he wants. He wants to feel powerful. So I let him. Dropping to my knees in supplication I stare up at him, measured. Cool. Waiting for the change in him. The change where he thinks he’s won.
He tries to smile. And I know I’ve got him.
“Good. You know your place.” His words are slurred, but I still understand every misfired shot. “Is that why you’re here? To save your family of sinners? Hmm?” He flinches at the pain that sound causes him, and I keep my face neutral even though I want more than anything to smirk.
Justice’s boots echo on the simple wood floors, and Nathaniel slowly turns toward the sound.
“I remember you.” His eyes dart to mine before finding Justice once again.
“Justice right? I remember watching Elder Goodson with you. The way he’d use your body.
The way you would stiffen, in more ways than one,” Nathaniel sings.
I don’t miss the way tension roils through Justice’s body.
“Admit it, to yourself and to God, you liked his touch, you little fag-”
Nathaniel’s scream echoes off the walls as my blade lodges deep in his thigh. Damian’s eyes meet mine, from his position behind Nathaniel, his own blade poised to slit Nathaniel’s throat.
I dip my chin, letting him know I’ve got this, and he has Justice.
“You fucking whore! You used up fucking cunt! You’ll pay for this on your back. Used like the fucking slut you are until you learn your lesson!”
I tip my head to the side, waiting for Nathaniel’s rant to cease. “And what is my lesson?” The grit in my voice has him blinking, once, twice, mouth hanging open.
“What is your lesson? What is your lesson? That you belong to me. Every fucking inch of your filthy, whore body belongs to me. Every move you make. Every. Fucking. Thought in that pretty little head will belong to me.” He straightens slightly, and there, right there I see a glimpse of what the public sees, as he pulls himself together piece by piece until he’s nothing more than an unassuming monster, but a monster none the less.
“You have become corrupted out there. By your mother,” He spits that word.
“by the world, by the MC. Filling that pretty little head up with dreams you can never have because you, my child, are nothing but a little lamb for the slaughter. But me? I’m your shepherd.
Your saviour. Pain purifies and you’ll thank me once the sin is beaten out of you. ”
I drop my gaze, staring at my hands resting on the tops of my thighs. My legs tucked underneath me, in the perfect, submissive pose. If only he knew.