Chapter 17
The rest of my night involved reaching the Order safely, enjoying a long, scalding shower, and sleeping until the sun lifted me from the few hours of peace I managed to get.
I crawl from bed, feeling the effects of yesterday weighing on my body, and stretch my arms toward the ceiling while shaking out my wings.
I move to the bathroom and lean across the vanity, checking the mirror for any fading bruises from Crew.
Even though my body has healed, I can still feel his hand wrapped around my neck.
I shake away thoughts of him and sigh. My long hair is still damp, reminding me of the hours of sleep I didn’t get.
I splash cold water on my face, neck, and arms because I still feel dirty—a great parting gift from the prison.
I feel incredibly filthy, no matter what I do.
The morning and afternoon are calm, and while I appreciate the slow pace, I know it won’t last. Lowell has promised Carver that tonight’s meeting will be held in their Order, and even though it’s hours away, I’m already dreading the fake pleasantries Lowell will offer them, forcing me to extend them as well.
I can’t imagine what celebration they want to have for Lowell and me, but it’s not anything I’d like to be a part of.
However, I am excited to see Crew’s face after I shot him last night.
I’ll wear casual clothes—a baggy T-shirt and pants—until I’m forced to change into something more appropriate for the Jade Order. After seeing Crew and Carver dressed to the nines in tailored suits, I imagine a dress will be delivered to my room within the hour.
One thing Lowell Lyre excels at is dressing.
Throughout the years, when an assignment would take me somewhere lavish, he would select my clothes and send them to my room with a note.
My love for dressing up, makeup, and getting my nails done started at a young age, so I was thrilled when clothes arrived at my door.
And even though I am excited for an excuse to wear a new dress, the thought of going to the Jade Order fills me with annoyance. Maybe I can wear the dress somewhere else afterward and get some actual use out of it.
I spend the rest of the afternoon tucked in my room, the windows wide open, and I’m enjoying the silence and calm around me when a knock breaks me from my thoughts. Without thinking, I pull open the heavy door, expecting a dress, but instead Shaw stands there with a grim expression.
I’m taken aback as I haven’t seen him since before I left for the assignment, and what Cris said replays in my mind. He didn’t tell me anything, and a wary feeling travels through me from his intense stare.
I cross my arms and pull the door open wider, folding in my wings to invite him to step inside, yet he lingers in the hallway.
“Lowell wants to see you in his office,” Shaw nearly whispers.
“Well, hello to you as well,” I respond. “I have a massive bone to pick with you, Durante.”
He sighs, looking down the hallway as if a timer is running out. “We don’t have time. He said to come as soon as possible.”
I unfold my arms and tilt my head. “You two have become close since I left.”
Before my life changed, I was in charge around here. I did everything for Lowell, and a year ago, this would have been me standing outside someone’s door, knowing the details and sharing nothing. Except I never did this to Shaw. I always told him everything, even if it put me in danger.
“I just do what I’m told, Mara,” he responds. “Come on.”
“Like beating Cris?” I snap back.
His eyes narrow. “Who told you that?”
I huff a laugh. “Unfortunately, he did. After I learned he’s been stalking me.”
“Dick,” he mumbles under his breath.
I move closer, crossing my arms. “What else have you not told me?”
His gaze softens. “We can talk about this later, but we need to get going.”
I keep my eyes locked on his, letting my anger seep into my gaze. “Don’t lie to me again.”
He nods but breaks eye contact.
I uncross my arms and step forward. “Lowell and I aren’t supposed to leave for the Jade Order for a few hours.”
I turn to lock the door behind me and step across the threshold when Shaw extends his arm, stopping me from fully exiting my room. Leaning in, he whispers so softly I can barely hear him.
“He is furious, Mara. What the hell did you do last night?”
Dread crashes into me, nearly making my knees buckle, and my thoughts instantly turn to Crew.
That motherfucker. He told his daddy?
What a pussy.
I roll my eyes. “It will be fine, Shaw. I’ll tell Lowell that Crew tried to attack me, and I defended myself. Easy.”
I push past him and don’t let my nerves show. I’m tempted to send a wave of calmness through me, but Lowell would be able to tell. He always can. I move forward, and hear Shaw follow, escorting me to Lowell’s office… like a prisoner.
“Crew Bannermin deserved to be shot. Maybe it will knock him down a few notches.” I chuckle at the thought.
“And what about the human you murdered?” Shaw says.
I pause, not turning to meet his gaze, which burns a hole in my back. Memories of last night flash through my mind. Rocco’s lifeless body with a bullet in it, and the sheer joy I felt at wiping that man off the face of this earth.
“He deserved to die, Shaw. I regret nothing.”
A hand touches my shoulder, turning me around, and Shaw gazes at me. His eyes pierce into mine, and I suddenly feel diminutive.
“You know Lowell won’t feel that way. That’s not for you to decide.” His brow furrows. “You may regret it once he’s done.”
“I’ll be fine.” I offer him a fake smile and turn on my heels, not letting an ounce of trepidation show in my icy eyes. “And don’t say things like that, Shaw. It sounds threatening, which isn’t a good look for you.”
My heart races with each step, and the anticipation swells within me, mingling with the irritation I feel for Shaw acting so mighty.
In the past, Lowell would have merely slapped me on the wrist. However, things are different now—everyone is different—and I have a feeling I’ll be praying for a slap by the end of this.
The office comes into view, and my palms grow clammy. The towering double doors stand before me, sealed shut, and a thought crosses my mind that I still have time to run, but my father didn’t raise a quitter.
Shaw leans over me, driving his fist into the wooden door that rattles the frame, and I feel my breath hitch in my chest. Shaw places both hands on my shoulders and kisses the top of my head before we hear Lowell’s deep voice demand that we enter.
“Breathe through it, Mara. Whatever he chooses as punishment, keep breathing.”
But we both know the extremes to which Lowell is willing to go, and my stomach drops.
I push against the ornate wooden doors, and a blinding light from the large windows blinds me, making me squint. The room is cold—colder than it should be for this time of year—and a shiver travels up my spine as if an icy finger touches me.
I place a hand over my brow, trying to see through the golden rays of the sun, and I hear Lowell’s voice.
“Shaw, stay outside,” his voice demands. “Thanks for coming, Mara.”
I walk forward, tall and unafraid. Although I appear confident, each step feels heavy—as if it could be my last.
“Look, Lowell,” I say, moving in with false confidence. “I can expla—”
I trail off as something hard hits the back of my head, blurring my vision.
I fall to my knees, and the office moves in and out of focus with Lowell standing in front of me.
I lift my hand to touch the back of my head, staring at the crimson stain on it in confusion when I bring it in front of my face.
I open my mouth to speak, but another blow to the head makes everything go black.
The throbbing in my head jolts me awake.
Confusion and pain mix like a swirling sea of misery, and I move my arm, wanting to check to see if I’m bleeding.
I must be somewhere in Lowell’s office. But my arms won’t budge.
They remain extended above my head, and I feel the tight squeeze of metal around each wrist.
My chest heaves, and my heart slams against my ribcage as I realize I’m shackled.
I thrash against the restraints but don’t move an inch.
My ankles are bound, keeping me nearly standing in place, and the dull power coursing through my veins tells me it’s iron.
I’m trapped—suspended somewhere in the darkness—and the only thing I can hear is the frightening melody of chains.
Clang.
Clang.
My breathing becomes so rapid that my hands tingle, the numbness creeping its way up my arms like a slow-climbing vine, and sweat beads on my forehead. A panic I’ve never experienced takes over, and a tortured sob escapes my quivering lips.
Suddenly, I’m back in prison. I’m chained and isolated. I flex my biceps, my muscles screaming against the restraints, but I don’t stop. I can’t move.
“No!” I scream. “Lowell, please.”
I can’t go back.
Panic overwhelms my entire system, and my thoughts become a jumble of rational and irrational ideas about escape and how to accept my fate.
The darkness surrounds me, and I can’t breathe.
Another sob escapes my lips, and the chains rattle around me from my trembling body.
I’ve never been one to beg, but desperation explodes from me like a bomb detonating.
“Lowell.” My frantic cry burns my throat. “Let. Me. Go.”
A blinding light fills the room, exposing everything around me in a startling flash.
My gasping echoes in the silence, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get a good breath, sending more panic to cave in my chest. As my vision focuses, I see Lowell standing before me like an angel of desolation, a twisted expression painted on his chiseled face.
I pull against the chains in a failed attempt to lunge at him, but I’m stopped by the iron anchoring me to the walls.
“Mara.” Lowell clicks his tongue. “My sweet Mara.”