Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Eleanor
The bonds forged in pain cannot be broken, and that is his greatest mistake.
T here is nothing attractive or dignified about camping. Not that I’ve ever been, but I escaped uncomfortable beds and sparse furnishings many years ago, and now prefer to surround myself in things that bring me comfort. Nature is easy to find in a backyard, or if you want more immersion, a woodland lodge. But to willingly make the choice to sleep in flimsy plastic houses with zippers for security and a half inch thick mattress as your bed? That is the definition of insanity. Yet here I stand, loading up a truck with essentials Hunter packed for me. At least it’s only two nights. I’ve stayed awake longer doing jobs. That could be a possible solution—not sleep. Then the spiders and bears can’t get me.
If I’m truly being honest with myself, which, if you can’t be, then what are you doing? It’s not the wildlife making me anxious, it’s the fact I will be with the Reapers for two full days. No bedroom to escape to, no time to figure out how to make the conversations go smoother so people pay as little attention to me as possible, and no time alone with the man who has ensnared my heart. My reason for breathing is altering. Having been fueled by vengeance and betrayal for so long, this softer feeling is foreign but not unwanted. It tempers my anger and puts the world in a softer focus. Is it a bad thing? I’m not sure. But I have time to figure it out.
Hunter launches his bag into the truck and winks at me. We are one of six trucks being loaded with camping equipment. The rest of the members will take their bikes. I could always hide out in the truck if I needed to.
We’re in the main MC compound, and it’s entirely different to what I imagined it to be. Nothing about the Desert Reapers fits the typical mold. Not that I have any experience of MCs—but they do have certain reputations.
The compound has such strong connotations for me, and I know I am judging it based on my personal experiences, which seems ridiculous. This bustling Texas town might be home to its many members, but the compound is the heart. William’s lodge-style home is warm and sprawling, the garden lush, and everyone has respectfully kept their wheels off the lawn by parking in a dedicated area.
There’s also a daycare called Little Reapers, which is both cute and a little macabre, and definitely at odds with the white walls and spotless playground. It makes sense to keep the most vulnerable behind a set of gates and high walls that can, if the need arises, become an extra barrier. I hope they never need to use them. They might have made a conscious decision to step away from criminal pursuits, but that doesn’t mean criminality won’t come seeking them out.
There are a few other buildings, offices I presume, as well as some smaller versions of the main lodge. Guest houses? Or maybe for close family? Shouldn’t Hunter live here as a VP?
“Are any of those yours?” I blurt.
He looks over his shoulder to follow my gaze before shaking his head. “No. We have a couple of older members that still want their independence but need a little more support, so we have medical staff on rotation who live in the end house.”
Another brownie point for not only caring for their children but their elderly as well. It is getting harder and harder to dislike it here.
Carlson appears from one of the smaller houses and spots me. I give him a little wave, to which he blushes and runs into William’s home, almost colliding with Cheryl.
“I think someone has a little crush,” Hunter observes.
“He’s practically a child.”
“And while his hormones are going haywire, his idol walks into his world and blows his mind.”
I’m not sure how to address that. Luckily, Cheryl, wearing a big smile, reaches our truck and the thought slips away. She adds another bag to the bed. How much stuff do they need for two days? I travel lighter than this when I’m gone for weeks. “You got everything you need?” she asks Hunter.
Hunter glances at me. “Absolutely everything.”
Me? I’m everything he needs? Is that what he means? Go away, Cheryl, I want to interrogate him and possibly get naked with comments like that.
“Good. William has called church.”
He’s done what? Didn’t take them for the religious types, but what do I know.
Hunter leans down and gives me a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be quick. Stay here with the women.”
Excuse me, what? “Stay with the women?” I parrot like an idiot. “While you pray?”
His brows furrow. “Church isn’t literal, Ellie. It’s where the leadership of the MC meet to discuss business, threats, finalize big decisions, and in this case, solidify a chain of command while so many of us won’t be in town.”
“But no women allowed?”
He tilts his head. “They aren’t technically in the MC, not by patched in standards.”
“Hunter!” William shouts from the open door to his house. “Leave the girl alone. I want to get on the road soon.”
Hunter stares into my eyes for a long moment. “I won’t be long. He probably wants an update on everything we discussed at the bakery too.”
“Then I should be there.”
He sighs. “I’ll explain later.”
Then he spins and stalks away, leaving me gaping after him. The big burly strong men were off to discuss important business. My business.
Cheryl leans against the side of the truck, watching as Hunter meets William with Mark following behind them. The door slides closed as she turns to me. “It’s a tradition he wants to get rid of,” she says.
“Hunter?”
“Yes, but William too.”
“William makes the rules. If he wanted to get rid of something, he is the one in power to make it happen.”
She sighs and tips her face toward the sun. “When enacting change in a kingdom, you have to do it carefully. We still have a lot of legacy members who hold a lot of sway in the town. If William changed everything at once, it would cause a riot.”
“It’s funny how he’s left a tradition in place that keeps women underfoot, out of the decision making, and away from power.”
“My husband is not perfect, Eleanor. No one is. Could he have changed this tradition but left others in place? Sure. But he tackled the backbone of the Desert Reapers first, got us legal, wealthy, strong, and happy. That’s more important than having a seat at the table with men who bluster about things neither you nor I care for.”
“It seriously doesn’t bother you?”
She shrugs. “I wouldn’t say that, but Will doesn’t treat me, or any woman, as less than the men.”
Except he does. Otherwise, I would be in the room while they chat about my problems. It’s not ok. As if the female species doesn’t already have enough to fight against when we have been repressed by men for centuries. It’s a crime that it is happening so blatantly now. I climb into the passenger seat of the truck and close the door to await the man I have begun to trust with more than my body.
What’s most concerning is that Cheryl, probably the most powerful woman in this town, is under the spell of her husband. He has her convinced it’s because there would be riots if he flipped the tradition on its head. Lies. All lies. And so fucking close to how I grew up. At least Jonathan never hid that he considered us a lesser species born to serve at the feet of men. He worked hard to strip away everything that had the potential to give us power. Wealth, education, even speech.
It’s colder here than our last settlement, but the grass is more lush, and the birds chirp louder than ever before, rejoicing at our company. It’s sad that I whisper my secrets to them, hoping my pain will be immortalized on their feathers, and that one day, the truth of our world will be shared with the masses and the people who cause us suffering will be judged. Even these thoughts are sinful; we aren’t allowed to fantasize about a different life, and we most certainly would be punished for hoping the men here were found to be in the wrong. It’s a consequence of Mama’s teachings, stories of a better world beyond these high walls that Jonathan protects us from. According to Mama, we are on the wrong side of that wall, but one day, she will show me how the ocean rolls against the shore as well as the wonders humanity has built, like the towers that reach into the sky as well as the boats that sink beneath the water to offer us a glimpse of another world. There is pain, confusion, and sadness beyond these walls. It is not a haven, Mama made sure I knew that, but it is worth it to be free to make our own paths, make our own mistakes, and pursue our own dreams.
For now, we have to bide our time, keep our deepest thoughts buried beneath layers of ice, and suffer at the hands of the men. Today is a hard lesson. Meredith dared question George’s actions. At least, that is what he declared. All I heard was a whimper of shock when he backhanded her during our last meal. She dripped some gravy on the table, likely because her hands were unsteady from the lack of food this past week. The women and children always got rations for a few weeks after we relocated because we needed to be careful with our food sources while new crops were planted and supply sources were tested by the men.
We were meant to suffer corrections in silence. Shouts, cries, whimpers, and pleas were not tolerated. Now, every unwed female over the age of twelve is suffering the consequences of Meredith’s slip-up. It might seem unfair to punish all for the crimes of one—a fear technique to keep us in line. However, Jonathan doesn’t understand that in uniting us in pain, he created a support system of understanding, meaning we were never alone.
The cold wind kisses the back of my bare thighs. My eyes catch on Meredith’s. She is in the same position directly in front of me. Two lines of eight girls, all kneeling, our hands bound behind our backs and the rope tied to a tall post. The stretch is painful but not unfamiliar.
The men step between us, with George taking position between myself and Meredith. Her body shakes at the knowledge of what is to come. I try communicating some kind of comfort with my gaze, reminding her that while we suffer in silence, we don’t do it alone.
Jonathan stands on a raised dais behind Meredith’s line. “Tonight, one of you dared question the will of the men who support and love you. We protect you from the demons gathering at our gates, and all we ask is your subservience. It’s a small price to pay to be part of the Eden I create over and over again.” His eyes land on me, and I know I’m going to be treated to the wrath of our great leader. “It is my honor to deliver a reminder of one of the most important lessons of our great community, and one I am willing to suffer the difficulties of. This is not easy on us as men, but easy is not how we maintain grace. In the interests of being a lenient leader, I have decided to help you maintain this vow. Remember—silence is a gift.”
He jumps down from the dais, grabs something from my brother, and rounds the line of girls, disappearing behind me. The hairs on my nape prickle in warning as he stops behind me. Jonathan has been paying me a lot of attention recently, taking extra time to give me one-on-one lessons. Lucky me. It’s bred a seed of jealousy among some of the girls, thinking I am getting preferential treatment. I would happily swap places with any of them, so they would soon learn it is not a blessing having the attention of our leader.
Ice skitters down my spine a moment before Jonathan’s breath whispers against my ear. “Open your mouth, Eleanor.”
I do as he asks, and he slides a metal bar into my mouth, fastening it behind my head tight enough to make the corners of my lips sting. There’s a hoop of deeper metal that presses my tongue to the floor of my mouth. Meredith has the same, and my heart skitters to a stop. It’s a horse bit. How fitting, since they treat us like animals. George loops a leather belt between Meredith’s and my bits, yanking hard and making both of our heads stretch forward while buckling them into place. He repeats with the other side, immobilizing our heads completely. Meredith’s wide eyes laser onto mine. Anything new is always met with trepidation, but I am guessing each and every one of us here is familiar with what comes next.
George steps from between us and accepts a long whip from another man.
“On my count, ten lashes,” Jonathan announces. That’s not the worst we’ve had. “Pause between to ensure they are silent.”
Fuck.
George licks his lips and grins.
“One,” Jonathan begins.
The first lash is like fire. It feels like I’ve been flayed to the bone, but I know he’s trained every single man here how hard to strike and not draw blood. Blood is messy. Wounds take time to heal, and they want us working the crops, not incapacitated in bed fighting infection. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky we are in the transition period. Another time, and this might have played out very differently.
“Two.”
My brother’s hand clenches, but he doesn’t look away. Doing so would result in punishment for him too. He swallows as he catches my gaze, and I try to communicate that it is okay. I understand he is as trapped as I am and don’t blame him for this.
“Three.”
I tear my gaze away from James and focus on a small bird perched on Meredith’s post, a silent witness to our pain. It doesn’t chatter like normal, as if it can sense the suffering. Unusual for it to be out at twilight, almost like it has been sent by a higher power. My body jolts at the steady onslaught, and tears streak down my cheeks, wetting my tongue.
“Seven.”
The fire has spread down my legs and up my spine. It could be that Jonathan has spread the lashes out, but he tends to lend toward keeping the same location. It makes for a longer lasting pain, something he enjoys as we continue to move around the compound. I will struggle to sit for a week, but I know later tonight I have another one-on-one lesson that will include sitting on a hard wooden chair, and much like now, I will be expected to bear the pain in silence. It makes us stronger and less likely to be influenced by the Devil, but I have been slowly coming to the understanding that the Devil resides in the man wielding the whip at my back.
“Nine.”
One more. George shifts to the side and narrows his eyes. Oh no... He arches his hand higher than normal, drawing it back so the lick of the black leather is a shadow against the darkening sky. I force my eyes to stay open and settle them on Meredith. Stay strong. Please, Meredith, stay strong. The whip comes down in slow motion. I don’t feel my own lash, but hers vibrates through my soul along with the cry wrenched from her throat, a delicate spray of blood in the air.
Her eyes squeeze closed. It’s okay. We all would have broken. To think otherwise is a lie. Now we find out the consequences of her insubordination.
Jonathan’s hand squeezes my shoulder like he’s proud of me. It feels like a slither of evil against my flesh. I am not proud, but I am also not broken. I refuse to allow him to define me.
“You bear the lesson well, but the weak among you has shown herself twice this night, and now she must suffer the consequences.”
She? Alone?
George pants as he drops the whip and moves between me and Meredith once more. Her eyes remain closed as he releases the straps between us, slowly unbuckling the bit from her head and letting it clang to the ground. He pulls out a pair of metal tongs and a wickedly sharp dagger. My breath comes faster, and my hands twist in the binds, the ropes digging deep into my wrists. If I was free right now, I might very well murder the man before me for what he’s about to do.
The tongs clamp around her tongue, and her eyes fly open. A second later he’s sliced through her tongue and stands with his prize, a wickedly evil grin filled with glee on his face.
Lesson complete. Speak without permission and lose your privilege to do so at all.