Chapter 4
Chapter Four
SILAS
She fucked him.
I looked away as revulsion burned in my gut. Her pleas echoing through the speaker, leaving me to hit the volume and turn it low. The last thing I needed was my brother’s stumbling in to find this.
“Please, my mother begged,” stepping backwards until she sank to the bed. “Don’t make me do this.”
But she did…didn’t she?
She did and then she ruined our goddamn family.
“You want your husband to know about us?” The bastard she was cheating with asked.
Tears slid down her face as she shook her head. The sight of them made me sick.
“Then take off your blouse, Meredith. It’s either you or your daughter and both you and I don’t want that, do you?”
Her or her daughter?
They were both in this?
I shifted my gaze from the screen. This bastard was threatening to fuck my sister instead? Then why the fuck didn’t she let him? This asshole could’ve whored her out for her entire life, for all I cared.
It would’ve been better than this…
Jesus fucking Christ. Was this why dad killed her? Because he somehow found out my mother was having an affair? I put myself in his shoes. Our family lived, breathed and consumed money and connections. That afforded us many things. Protection was one of them.
The blood-spattered study filled my mind. The choking scent of gunpowder forever etched into my memories, mingled with the sight of my parent’s dead bodies.
I turned back to the screen as she unbuttoned her blouse with trembling fingers. “How many more times must we do this? You’ve got what you wanted. I’ve told you everything I know about my husband’s dealings. You have enough to wipe us all out.” Her blouse dropped, leaving her in a black, lace bra.
I nodded my head slowly, that cold, hearted bastard inside growing cold with the realization of just the kind of women my mother and sister were.
“I’m begging you, please don’t make me do this.”
This woman begged. She wasn’t my mother anymore. Not one I ever wanted in my life. She was a cheater. A fucking…whore.
“Clothes…off. I want you to lay back and spread your legs. I want us to record just how perfect your cunt is before I fuck you so hard I destroy it. Then, when you’re full of my cum you can get dressed, get your daughter and go home.
I’m sure her training will be done by then.
It sounds like Angelica is quite the natural when it comes to giving head. ”
I pushed up from the seat at my desk and looked down at the screen.
My mother shook her head, her blubbering words useless as she slid her bra down, revealing sagging breasts and dark, pinched nipples.
I’d never looked at my mother like this before.
Like she was no different to the bitches I used every other night.
Never saw her as anything other than a dutiful wife and an attentive mother. But that… that woman was a lie.
She slid her slacks down, taking her panties with them. I reached up, hitting stop the moment her legs rose and her knees parted. I sure as fuck didn’t need to see that.
I looked at the email again. The one with London St. James personal email address, it took all of me not to hit reply and ask to meet him.
That man is dangerous.
My father’s words resounded from the day St. James and his Sons came to see us. It wasn’t that dad didn’t trust him…more like wary. The guy as resourceful and just as fucking ruthless as we were…as was his sons.
I remembered that night at the fight. The one where Carven killed a man…
He’d been thrown out.
But fuck he was terrifying.
I shook my head and clicked out of the email. St. James and his weird ass fucking offspring wasn’t someone I wanted to associate with. The Order.
The browser was still up, the expensive looking building ominous on the webpage.
I turned around, glancing at the rumpled sheets.
There was no more sleep for me tonight. Not now.
Probably not ever. I strode to the bathroom, hit the light and yanked my shirt over my head, wincing at the sting. In the mirror I saw all the claw marks.
Jesus.
I shoved my jeans down low, hit the taps and stepped into the shower. The sting was instant, leaving me to drop my head under the hot spray. The recording played in my mind as I washed. The longer it did, the angrier I became.
I washed and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my dripping body and headed back into my bedroom. The Order. That place lingered as I pulled on jeans, a t-shirt and then my boots before I grabbed my black helmet and strode out, heading for the rear of the house.
The sun was slowly rising, lightening the night sky at the edge of the horizon.
I made for my bike, pulled on my helmet and climbed on.
The engine started instantly, vibrating between my thighs.
Lights were bright, spilling along the driveway before I kicked it into gear and surged forward, driving along the house, then turned, making my way toward the freeway, heading out of the city.
My mom…
My fucking sister.
All those fucking times she could’ve said something, not even to the cops…but to me. She stood at that doorway seeing their bodies. She saw what my father did…and yet, she said nothing.
I clenched my jaw and pushed the bike harder, pulling onto the on-ramp. I moved around those heading to work, carving in and out, pushing to make the amber street lights until I pulled off the freeway and was out of the city.
I didn’t come out here, not where the mountains waited and the trees grew close to the road. I stayed in the city, hiding away in underground street racing and illegal fights. I stayed in the dark, coming out into the light when my father needed me.
Now, he needed me more than ever.
I pulled out my cell, glanced at the GPS and slowed the bike, taking a turn up ahead and headed for the thick forest. The sun glinted off steel in the distance, drawing my focus to the ten-foot high fence that was topped with razor wire.
Razor wire for a religious organization seemed a little…
excessive. A gnawing in my gut grew as I slowed the bike, coasting past where the wire had been cut.
Up ahead the guard hut was destroyed and the chain around the gates were cut and open.
Someone had been here…I scanned the dirt and the washed out tire tracks—although not recently.
I edged the bike close, yanked the gate, widening it enough for me to slip through. All I saw were trees as I drove closer until I turned and found the sprawling brick building.
It didn’t look like the photographs now. The windows were smashed and it looked like someone had forced entrance, leaving the door wide open. I pulled the bike up and killed the engine before climbing off. The place didn’t look any better when I removed my helmet, in fact it looked worse.
Dirty and ruined. The place felt abandoned.
I climbed the steps and pushed open the front door, listening for any sounds.
But there was none, leaving me to step in.
I had no idea what I was looking for…but the moment I stepped through the foyer leaving the false pretense of the church behind I knew this was the place from the video.
It had that sinister feel.
My boots resounded against the empty hallways.
Locked double doors were now wide open. I glanced at the dead access points then pushed though to find the empty rooms, stopping at the doorway to peer inside.
An empty cot was shoved in the corner, the bedding still rumpled.
I scanned the rest of this tiny, soulless room.
This place wasn’t a church…it was a goddamn prison.
I kept walking, making my way along the halls to a cafeteria, then headed toward the back. There was blood splatter on the walls…and a darkened patch on the floor. “What the fuck happened here?”
There were no reports on the web. Nothing apart from the dead asshole who founded this place. The guy St. James had been convinced was alive. But as I walked along the hallway and stopped at some kind of medical wing I realised maybe St. James was telling the truth.
I moved on, pushing through unlocked doors to a wing that looked like offices…and amongst them rooms large enough for a group. Three doors down I glanced into the glass to freeze. There was a bed there. The same, generic type that was in the video. Was this it? Was this the place?
My knuckles ached as I gripped the handle and pushed it open.
It was there, in the middle of the room, just like it’d been in the recording. I stepped inside, glancing at the tripod set up for recording. “Motherfucker.”
Beep.
My cell chimed making me jump. I grabbed it from my jacket and glanced at the message.
Unknown: Enjoying the Order?
What. The. Fuck?
My pulse kicked, then raced as I spun around, strode back into the hallway and scanned the empty hallway. That eerie feeling in the pit of my stomach grew colder. I looked down, punching out a reply.
Who the fuck is this?
Send.
Beep.
Unknown: You’ll find out.
“Fuck you.” I spat, rage moving in to replace fear.
I needed to get out of here…and now. I started walking back the way I came…until I stopped at that larger room. I’m sure her training will be done by then. Those words from the video surfaced. It sounds like Angelica is quite the natural when it comes to giving head.
The cells.
The doors.
The blood…and this room, big enough for training. This place made me want to run from here and never look back. My boots ricocheted as I hurried, fighting the urge to fucking flee. The moment I slammed out of the front I sucked in hard breaths. I’d been so thankful to see my bike.
I yanked on my hemet, started the machine and took off, punching it hard until I slowed at the gate. The moment I was through I was out of there…desperate to get back to the blaring, rush of the city.