He must have sensed my presence, because as I stared down at him, trying my very best to muster the courage to speak, he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. The minute his tired red eyes found mine, an expression of agony settled on his beautiful face. He turned away from me then. I knew it was in shame.
My feet moved closer to him, one step then two, then I lowered myself beside him. I was far enough away that he could not reach me. But from where I sat I could see him clearly. I could see his face with crystal clarity. I had to—I needed to—know the truth.
All of it. Nothing hidden. Everything bared.
I folded my arms over my bent legs and waited for him to face me again. When he did I almost crumbled. Hot tears flooded his eyes and lonely teardrops tracked down his colorless cheeks. A fresh bruise was on his forehead; recent wounds peppered his skin.
He was beaten everywhere he went. Yet he took it all.
He dragged in a long breath and whispered, “Harmony . . . you shouldn’t be here.”
“Bella,” I corrected.
“Bella,” he said softly, almost reverently. “You need to go. Just . . . leave me alone.”
I was not going anywhere.
“You are in love with Mae,” I blurted. Rider’s eyes widened. I had shocked him. I had shocked myself. I had so many questions, yet that was the first my unconscious mind decided to ask. I realized then just how much it had bothered me. Just how much pain the thought brought to my heart.
“No,” Rider finally replied.
“You lie,” I accused. “I have been told everything. Everything you have done. Everything your brother has done . . . how you fought to win Mae’s love.”
Rider’s already pale cheeks turned ashen. The shackles that held him captive rattled as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He faced me. Stared directly into my eyes.
His shoulders slumped. “I thought I loved her. When I was chosen by my uncle to infiltrate these men, I was so out of my element. But I believed in the cause. Bella . . . I believed in our faith so hard I didn’t dispute a single thing I’d been taught in The Pasture.” He shook his head and ran his hand down his face. “When Mae arrived, bleeding out and dying, I figured out who she was pretty quick.” He pointed to the inscription on my wrist. I ran my fingers over the ink that had been forced upon me as a child. “I knew I had to gain her trust to return her to my uncle. And she was the only female I had ever really spoken to. I . . . I think that I wanted her because she was from The Order. I thought that she was just under the influence of the devil.”
He expelled a self-deprecating laugh. “Fucked-up, right? I truly thought that I had to help her soul. I honestly believed I was in love with her, that she was meant for me, and that I could save her. When I ascended, it was my biggest goal: to get her back. To have her by my side. I thought that was what I was meant to make happen. What God expected me to do.”
“What changed?” I found myself asking. A sickened feeling had sprouted in my chest as I listened to him talk of wanting Mae. It was unbearable, yet I could do nothing to chase it away.
Rider’s chest rose and fell as he fought to breathe through whatever he wanted to say next. Then he did, and that feeling in my chest evaporated.
“You.”
I stilled, breath held.
“You changed it all. You changed everything.”
“Rider…” I whispered brokenly. My fingers twitched. They wanted to reach for his and feel his warmth. Feel his safe touch.
“It is true. I was sheltered my entire life. I remained pure and fixed my efforts on the first woman that ever paid me attention . . . but it was all bullshit. My need for Mae was as fake as this fucking religion we have dedicated our entire life to.” Rider turned his head away from me. I did not move. He looked at me again, self-hatred in his eyes. “Bella . . . when I ascended, I . . . I liked it.
“I liked the power. I felt like everything I had sacrificed was for something. I had a path, a purpose . . . then it all started going wrong. I didn’t know how to lead the people. The elders began losing faith in me. I didn’t receive any revelations like I thought I would.” He choked on a devastated laugh. “Because no such thing existed. My uncle had made it all up. He was smart. He and his sick friends found that by disguising their perversions under the veil of religion, they could lure people in. Broken, lost people looking for a reason to live. Helplessly searching for a better life. Instead all he brought them was rape and repression.”
“You did not know,” I said. “You were brought up to believe it all. We all were.”
“I should have known,” he replied sternly. “Bella, I lived here with the Hangmen for five years. I saw real life, the real world. I lived it. But all that time I held on to the belief that the entire world was wrong and our small commune was right. How fucking na?ve was that?”
“It was not na?ve, Rider. That commune was your family. It was all you knew. I know, remember? I lived it too.”
He stared at me for the longest time. So long that I became nervous under his attention. So long that his torn and shamed face frosted into an icy expression. “I let it happen,” he said dully. “All of it.”
I swallowed hard.
“I allowed the Klan’s men to take Lilah. They were meant to take Mae. Then I washed my hands of her and let Judah punish her.”
“You did not know what Judah would do to her, what the other elders would do. Even Lilah believes you were trying to save her.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Every one of my muscles seemed to drain of blood. Had I been wrong about Rider? I feared that all his pain and self-hatred was a ruse. But then his lips trembled, and a single teardrop fell from his eye . . . and I knew he was the man I always knew him to be. “I think . . . I think, deep down, I knew all along that Judah was bad . . . cruel . . . sadistic . . . ”