20. Malachi
MALACHI
As the men from the institute recede into the distance, and I swerve the car around a sharp corner, I keep my eyes on the road. Once we hit a quiet patch of long road, I glance at Roman again and take in what a mess he is.
“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath.
“Later, like I said.” Roman stares straight ahead. His face is almost serene, but he’s tapping his index finger fast against his thigh, and his knee is jiggling, too.
He’s jacked up on adrenaline, and he looks like he’s a moment away from blowing, so I shrug and don’t push it any further.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I take in Ophelia.
My Little Ghost really does look like an other-worldly spirit right now.
She’s paler than she’s ever been, her eyes are huge, and she keeps biting her bottom lip.
There’s a speck of blood on it, but I don’t know if that’s from her biting it, or from whatever blood Roman has all over him.
I don’t like how she seems, as if she’ll start screaming at any moment and never stop.
I’ve got Roman sitting beside me like an unexploded ordinance, and her behind me, like something about to implode.
Did Roman hurt her?
No, he wouldn’t. But as I glance at her, I notice her watching him furtively. Cain’s gaze meets mine in the mirror, and he mouths, what the fuck ?
Yeah, what the fuck indeed.
“So, where the hell are we heading?” I ask. “Didn’t you say those men at the fight club know a place we can hide out?”
“Yeah,” Cain says. “It’s the owner’s place.
He showed me pictures of it a long time ago.
It’s fancy as fuck for a hideaway in the middle of nowhere.
The perimeter is guarded at all times by two men, and he can give us more if we want them.
It is fenced off, and the guards have dogs, but it’s private as fuck inside the grounds, he says.
Let me message him now and make sure we can still use it. ”
He sends the message, and I focus on the road. I really hate the loaded atmosphere in the car, but I’m so relieved to have my Little Ghost back with us. I loathed the thought of her being all alone and vulnerable. It twisted me up inside.
I’m not a man who cares easily about things, or at least that’s the impression I give, but this girl has worked her way under my skin and burrowed deep.
She’s in my fucking heart now, stamped on there forever.
Whatever happens in the future, she’ll always be a hugely important person in my life.
I hope she’s always with us, but even if she chose not to be, I think I’d still love her.
And I do love her, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
Will she be happy when I tell her, or will it scare her?
It scares me, but the best things in life are the things that scare us a little.
The roads are quiet, and I glance at the GPS on the dash to see where we’re headed. “Cain, an idea of a direction would be good right now.”
“On it.” He messes about some more on his phone. “He’s typing something back in reply to my message.”
“Can we trust his guards? I say we let them go, so we can look after Ophelia ourselves.” Roman’s voice is heavy, different to the way he usually sounds.
Cain sighs. “He’s letting us use his place, and I doubt he’d be happy for us to just fire his guards. They won’t be up near the house, and we can trust them. They are at the entrance to the property and not near the actual house.”
I catch sight of Cain in the driver’s mirror as he scrubs a hand over his face, his expression impatient.
Cain continues, “Didn’t we say how stupid it was for Ophelia’s father to take her from Verona Falls to a safehouse when it would just be him and a few men?
That’s the exact same way it will be for us, if we go there totally alone.
Wait, he’s replied.” Cain reads the message before laughing.
“He says there’s a fully stocked refrigerator and a fully stocked arms safe, and he’s sent me the code. Still think we can’t trust him?”
“I just feel antsy,” Roman growls. “This is all kinds of fucked up.”
I’m aware as I drive that the one person staying silent is Ophelia. “Little Ghost, you get the deciding vote.” My eyes meet hers in the mirror. “You want the guards to stay or not?”
Her own gaze leaves mine for a brief second to land on the back of Roman’s head. “I think it’s best if we have extra help,” she says softly.
Holy shit, what the fuck happened in there? She’s definitely acting nervy about Roman.
“Okay, I’ve got coordinates. Let me put them into my phone and I’ll direct you,” Cain says.
“Can’t you just give him a zip code?” Roman snaps.
“It hasn’t got one, fucker.” Cain pushes the back of Roman’s seat, hard. “It’s a safe house, secret, known to only a few people, not an official address. There’s a long dirt track up to it once we get near.”
“Fine.” Roman opens the glove compartment and pulls out a pair of ear buds. He puts them in, turning some music on via his phone.
“You okay, baby?” I ask Ophelia, watching her in the rearview mirror once more.
“Yes,” she whispers.
It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
The faster we arrive at this place and I can find out what happened, the better.
I try to calm my anxiety and focus on the directions Cain is giving me.
Over two hours later, we arrive at the turnoff for the gravel road.
We’re on a single lane track, deep in the woods.
The canopy is so thick it blocks most of the daylight, and automatically, the car’s headlights come on.
They bounce off the foliage as the vehicle bumps up and down, and I get a strange sense of foreboding again.
My dream was right. I’d seen her being bundled away in a white van, and she had been taken away, to a fucking facility for people who are insane.
She’s not insane. Yes, she hears the Prophet, but that’s just goddamn trauma.
What was her father thinking? I had believed she came from a kind family from the way Cain told it, but would kind parents do that?
Finally, the woods open up, and the safehouse appears directly ahead of us.
I give a low whistle and slow the car to a crawl. It’s a huge, modern, white house, two stories high. I can’t see any details as it’s still a good few minutes’ drive away from the gated entrance. It’s not a fancy gate, just a high metal fence, with a small guard box by it.
A man steps out, assault rifle in hand. He’s holding it professionally, the way military or trained police do, barrel pointed down, and finger resting near the trigger.
A second man joins him and holds up his hand, stopping the car. He rolls his finger around in a motion telling me to lower the window. I do as he instructs, and he peers in. He has two massive German shepherds by his side. They’re off leash, but they both sit when he begins to speak.
“One moment, gents.” He takes out a cell phone and swipes the screen then holds the phone out toward us. It’s on speaker.
“Cain?” The voice on the other end is quiet, almost a whisper.
“Yes, Eric, I’m here. We’ve arrived.”
“Good. The gentlemen at the gate are David and Luther, and they’re on for another twelve hours. They will stay at the gate. If you want any extra guards, just ask. But Cain, one thing.”
“Yes,” Cain says.
“If you get wind of a possible threat, please let me know. I don’t want my property destroyed, and I have men nearby who can help.”
“Of course, and thanks again, Eric.”
The quiet chuckle is almost raspy. “Ah, Cain. You’ve made me a lot of money, and I like to look after my stable.”
He ends the call, and the man with the phone held out puts it back in his upper pocket and heads inside the booth where he presses a button. The gates whir, click, and then shudder as they begin to open.
Stable? That’s a fucking creepy way of putting it to go with his creepy voice. Still, he helped us out, so I should be grateful to Cain’s mysterious friend.
I put the car back into drive and navigate through the gates and up the driveway to the front of the house.
I turn off the engine, and twist to Cain. “Why don’t you and Roman go inside and make sure it’s all safe before I bring Ophelia in?”
Cain sighs but pats Rome on the shoulder and clambers out of the car. Roman shoots me an unreadable look but follows Cain.
Finally, I have the chance to speak with Ophelia alone. “Baby?” I turn in my seat and face her. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but, to my shock, tears fill her eyes. She dashes them away with the back of her hand.
“Hey, you’re safe now,” I tell her.
I’m aching to touch her, and it takes all my self-control not to climb into the back seat and fold my body around her.
I want her to feel safe again, to help her like I did when she was having the panic attack when we first met.
But I can sense she’s balancing on a tightrope of her own self-control, and I don’t want to do anything that might knock her off.
“I know.” Her voice is small, and her body language is the same—she’s kind of huddled in on herself.
“What happened in there?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mal. Not now. Please?”
Those oddly colored eyes of hers hold me hostage in their laser beam. I can’t refuse her anything when she looks at me that way.
“Okay. We’ll table it for now, but…” I’m not sure how to word what I want to say. I can’t believe I feel the need to ask. “Did Roman hurt you?”
She jerks back. “What? No! God, no.” She sniffs and looks down at her lap. “But he’s scary. Really scary when someone makes him truly mad.”
“Did you make him mad?”
She lifts her head and meets my gaze head on. “No, he didn’t hurt me, Mal. Now, drop it, please.”
I sigh but nod my acquiescence and turn back in my seat.
The other two come out of the house and wave us in.
I jump out of the driver’s seat and jog around to get Ophelia’s door and help her out.
She’s shaky and, as soon as her small hand rests in mine, I can’t resist. I pull her into me and hug her.
She goes stiff and still in my arms.
It hurts that she doesn’t hug me back, and I let go. She tucks her hands into the pockets of the pink patient scrubs she’s still wearing and puts her head down, no longer wanting to meet my eye.
“Let’s go inside,” I say, trying not to take the moment personally.
The front door of the safehouse opens into a double height entrance hall with a staircase in the middle.
To the left, a door leads into a bright eat-in kitchen, and the right appears to be the living room.
Behind the other doors are most likely an office or small den, or perhaps a utility room.
We’ll find out soon enough when we explore.
Cain and Roman are waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.
“It’s clear,” Cain says, though I assume only to reassure Ophelia as he already waved us in.
It feels like we should have bags with us, but we haven’t brought anything. We even abandoned Ophelia’s few belongings at the facility. I grimace at Roman in his bloodstained uniform. I hope Cain’s friend will have some clothes for us to change into.
Ophelia smiles brightly at the three of us. Too brightly. “I’d like a bath, if that’s okay.” Her gaze travels up the stairs. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find it.”
“Ophelia, do you need to talk about what happened?” Roman asks.
She holds her hand up, cutting any of us off from further questions. “I’m fine. I would just really like a bath and a bit of time to get my head together. Thank you for coming to get me.”
Then she brushes past Cain and Roman and disappears up the stairs, and I’m left puzzled and pissed off. This isn’t the reunion I was envisioning.
I turn to the other two, taking in Roman’s blood-soaked clothes again. I’m about to demand he tell me what happened when he speaks up. He keeps his voice low so Ophelia doesn’t overhear.
“I walked in on a guy bending her over the bed, her pants down, and his dick out, about to rape her.”
My blood freezes in my veins. “ What ?”
“Yeah.”
“So that explains the blood.” Cain’s face is a mask of fury as he pounds his fist into his opposite hand. “I’m glad you hurt the fucker, but I swear to God, I want to go back there right now and tear that son of a bitch limb from limb.”
I feel the exact same way. The thought of another man so much as putting a finger on Ophelia makes me rage.
I’m seconds away from jumping back in the car and returning to the facility to find him.
Blood rushes in my ears as my adrenaline jumps, and I squeeze my fists so tight I know my black-painted nails have left moon shaped crescents in my palms. I speak from between gritted teeth, doing my best to control myself.
“Did you, like, gut him in front of her or something? Leave his entrails hanging out? She’s kind of spooked, and I don’t think it’s just from the attempted rape.
” I don’t say that she seems scared of Roman, but it’s what I mean.
Roman drags his hand through his blond hair. “I lost it, and I … I um … I might have cut his dick off.”
I stare, not having a fucking thing to say to that.
“And then I choked him with it,” he finishes.
I blink at him. No wonder Ophelia is so freaked out. Not only was she almost raped, but she watched a man having his cock cut off then shoved down his throat. I’m sure she’s pleased Roman stopped her assault in time, but it’s hardly surprising she’s fucking traumatized.
“Fucking hell, Rome,” I sputter. “You couldn’t have just stabbed him in the guts or something?”
He shrugs. “It seemed appropriate, considering the circumstances.”
Anger roils inside me. Perhaps it isn’t Roman I’m angry at—it’s most likely the asshole who tried to hurt Ophelia, but he’s not here anymore.
“Didn’t you think about how that would affect Ophelia, witnessing something like that? You know how vulnerable she is.”
Roman glares at me, his green eyes hard. “No, I didn’t fucking think. I just knew that any man who touches her without her permission deserves to choke on his own cock.”
With those words, Roman turns and walks toward the kitchen, leaving me and Cain alone in the brightly lit hallway.