Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen #5)

I swallowed, checking to see that Meister was still deep in conversation with Himmler. I thanked Hades that he was, because I desperately wanted to talk to the bitch, but I had to play this shit right. Phebe shuffled forward until her tits were at my knees. I tensed as she searched my face. Then, with careful, gentle movements, she reached forward, her blistered fingertips reaching for my face.

I was frozen as her fingertips grazed my cheeks and ran down my thick stubble. Her eyelids were fighting to stay open, no doubt being pulled down by the drugs. Her hair was sticking to her slick skin. Worst of all, Meister’s cum was running down between her thighs. I could smell the stink of sex coming off her in waves. Yet I still couldn’t breathe as her soft hands touched my face, as those fucking blue, dazed eyes studied me. Then, her eyebrows rose and a smile spread on her lips, and it fucking slaughtered me. The bitch had just been raped, degraded in front of a crowd, and no doubt recently beaten by Meister, yet here she was on her knees at my feet, touching my face, and fucking smiling.

I almost pulled out my gun and shot every fucker in here, just for the chance to get her out of this shithole right the fuck now.

“You,” she said again, a new lightness in her voice. Her fingers ran over my lips, then up, stopping at my eyes. Her hand curled, framing my eyes, and she released a long, happy sigh. “The one with the kind eyes,” she murmured. Her head tilted to the side like an innocent child. “You would not kill me. I deserved to die, but you would not kill me . . . because you had kind eyes. A devil’s man with angel eyes.”

I remembered that fucking night at the commune again. Remembered this bitch stroking Li’s hair and calling her Rebekah. Fucking crying. Fucking breaking. My chest cracked, and I swallowed the lump in my throat . . . the way she looked at Li. I . . . I knew how that felt.

That’s why I couldn’t kill the bitch.

She . . . in that moment, she was me. Me on that fucking day that never left my head.

“The tree.” Phebe’s voice pulled me from my head. I shifted on my seat as she pulled back her hands and held them together in the way I’d tied them.

“A devil’s man with angel eyes,” she repeated and began to sob. “Here for me again. To rescue me from hell? To take us . . . ? To make us safe?” She said the sentences as though they were questions; her blue eyes were begging for me to take her from this town, from Meister. Fuck, the way she was looking at me, beseeching, begging . . . the bitch was asking me to put her out of her misery.

Looking just like him. Like—

“What the fuck? Whore!”

My head snapped up as Meister stormed across the room. I braced, ready for the fight. Meister’s hand gripped Phebe’s hair and yanked her to her feet. Phebe cried out as she stumbled to stand. Then, when she was straight, Meister spun her to face him and sliced a backhand across her face. I had to use everything I had not to fucking charge. But when I looked around, every guard was on edge, hands on guns. None of us would get out alive if we tried.

We had to fucking wait.

Phebe began crying, sobbing as she lifted her head. Blood ran thick and fast from her lip. Her eyes flooded with tears, yet even after the hard blow Meister dealt, her dazed eyes still sought out mine. And fuck me, but they softened. Like I was making everything better just by being here.

I couldn’t deal with that look.

“Whore!” Meister snarled as pulled her close to his face. “It seems as though you haven’t learned your lesson just yet, slut.” He shook her violently, her head lolling back and forth. “Then I’ll have to fucking try harder.”

Meister turned toward the door, the entire saloon looking on in expectant silence. As he passed me, he looked down and said, “This bitch was a trained whore. Opened her legs for anything that moved. I’m retraining her to be a Klan wife.” As if his own words incensed him, he swiped out and hit her again, her head jerking sideward. “But this slut is hard to break.” He dragged Phebe out of the bar, and before the door closed behind them, I saw him turn left. Toward the dentist shack.

I pulled out my smokes, lit one and took a long inhale. Himmler was watching me with suspicious eyes, so I acted calm on the outside, even though in my head I was imagining slitting the throat of every last fucker in the entire place. Over the next ten minutes I finished off my beer, took another shot, then got to my feet.

Vike and Cowboy followed me out of the saloon and across the road to the dorms. Vike moved in close to speak, but I hissed, “Not yet. Himmler will be watching from the bar.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Trust me,” I said as we entered the dorms, keeping the lights off. The minute we hit the hallway, I sneaked a look across the street.

“Shit,” Cowboy said. “Fucker’s right there, staring after us.”

“He suspects us.” I led them into Flame’s room. The brother was pacing back and forth. I ignored him and locked the door. “We get her out tomorrow,” I said quietly. “If Meister doesn’t kill her tonight first. Himmler’s gonna start digging if we don’t. That fucker smells that we ain’t pure.”

I flicked my chin at Cowboy. “Call Hush. Tell him we’re putting a plan together and he needs to be ready to go when I say.”

Cowboy pulled his cell from his pocket. He spoke quietly to Hush, then gave a thumbs up and ended the call. “He’s ready.”

Pacing too, I ran my hand through my hair. “Tomorrow night, after dark.” Vike and Cowboy nodded. Flame was too fucking lost in his own world to hear. I outlined my plan, and my brothers listened carefully. We all agreed—this was how this shit was gonna go down.

The room was quiet. Vike gave me a weird look. “Ain’t sure that bitch can be saved, brother. I ain’t ever seen shit like that before. He’s one fucked-up cunt.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to let the thought of Phebe, of my fucking past, rip me to shreds. I counted to ten in my head. “You might be right.” I slumped to the edge of the bed and looked at Flame, proof that even the most fucked-up souls could be salvaged, somewhat. “But I’ll fucking die trying.”

“Always the damn hero,” Viking said humorlessly.

Hero? Fucking far from it. Just didn’t have it in me to watch one more person die under someone else’s hand.

So I’d take on Meister and his Klansmen tomorrow night.

We’d deal with the rest after that.

Even if she was already completely fucked.





Chapter Five


Phebe



The street rushed past me. I struggled to open my eyes. So I gave in to the dark. I gave in to the dark and let a pair of kind eyes watch over me. An angel disguised as a devil.

A door opened. Then it closed. I was pushed onto a surface that I recognized. My legs were parted. A needle pricked my arm. Then liquid light passed through my veins as I felt my cheek being struck and my core being savaged.