AK placed his hands on my cheeks and lifted my head. “Sapphira . . . the suicide . . .?”
“She was not there,” I said and watched him relax. I thought back to Judah. “The only good thing Judah did when I was his consort was send her away. I begged him to stop her mission as a Sacred Sister. I said that if he loved me as he claimed, he would do this one thing for me. He would save her.” I exhaled, feeling some glimmer of comfort.
“He did as I requested and sent her away, sent her from a life of sexual servitude. She was thirteen at the time. She would be fourteen now. Judah informed me there was a smaller commune where the elderly or impaired were placed. Judah sent her there to work. It was abroad and far away from Texas.” My eyes fell. “I never even got to say goodbye to her, but I took comfort that she was away from New Zion, where I could see everything was falling around us.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But my daughter is still out there in the world somewhere, without me.” I inhaled deeply. “Since you saved me from Meister, since you forced me to face my demons, I have been plagued with guilt and regret. I should have fought harder for her. I should have realized sooner that The Order was a veritable hell. But at least I am safe in the knowledge that she still lives. Others were not so fortunate. They watched their babies die alongside them. I heard no order from Judah demanding the elderly or infirm be killed, so I pray that she is safe.” I laid my hand on my heart. “I have to believe she is okay, that she breathes, or else I would cease to be. I would waste away.”
When I had confessed the last of my sins, a heady kind of numbness took hold of me. AK was watching me carefully, and I almost wept when I saw no censure in his gaze, no judgment. His hand was shaking when it threaded through my hand.
That small gesture of comfort allowed me to breathe. It allowed the tightness in my chest to relax and find some morsel of peace in this mess.
“You weren’t to blame, Red,” he said, his voice low, deep, but best of all, sincere. “You were a fucking kid. You were a kid who had a kid, and those fuckers took her off you, giving you some bullshit trope, all that you could still be their whore. They brainwashed you. About every single thing in your life. And you have fuck all to be sorry for.”
“I do not believe that,” I said tiredly. I was drained and depleted.
I was numb.
AK sat up and pulled me onto his lap. His hands cupped my face, and he made sure I looked directly into his eyes. “Then I’ll fucking believe it for you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, more thankful than he could ever know. I looked into his kind, handsome face, and I knew that I owed him an explanation. All was blurry, but I knew how I must have acted after he saved me, under the influence of the drink. I took a deep breath. “I am nothing if not a whore, AK. I do not know how to be anything else.
“I do not know how to live with all my demons. My failure of Sapphira, Lilah, and all the lives of the men I seduced, wasted when Judah ordered them to drink his poison. I brought those men to the commune, to our faith, and they died under Judah’s command.” I clutched on to AK for dear life. “And I do not know how to live in a world where I see my daughter in my arms whenever I close my eyes. Not knowing where she is in the world, if she ever thinks of me.” I breathed slowly. “Meister’s potion took all that away—the cares and the worries. The drink I found on Ky’s porch did the same thing to me, when you had taken the potion from my veins. It was a suitable substitute. It made me not remember, or think of Sapphira, for a time. I saw Lilah with Grace, and although it makes me elated they have one another, it killed me to see what a mother looks like. A true, good mother. That is why I did not want to be brought back to real life.” I shook my head. “Real life is too hard. And I do not know how to cope with it. Not at all.”
I clung to AK as if he were the only tether keeping me from breaking apart. And I whimpered, losing the final restraint on my sorrow when his large arms came around me and held me as close as possible. He kissed my hair and rocked me back and forth, keeping me safe in his hands. “You ain’t to blame,” he said again, his kindness rushing over me like a balm. “They made you do it. Those fuckers took you as a fucking kid and raped you. Forced you into service and stole your kid. You can’t blame yourself. You were fucking trafficked.”
AK said no more as I purged years’ worth of sorrow from my heart. He just held me close as my tears dried to a drought and my body sagged in exhaustion.
My eyes fought to close, and I lost the battle to keep them open. I recalled being lifted in AK’s arms and placed down a warm bed. But when I next woke I was alone, and my entire body shook. My skin was sweating from my nightmares. I saw my daughter’s face, felt her in my arms. I saw Lilah on the stake, her bloodied body, too vividly in my head.
It was all too much.
I threw back the comforter and left my room. The cabin was quiet and still, but I needed him.
I needed him so badly.
I tiptoed into AK’s bedroom. There were two small, narrow beds in this room too. AK’s tall form was under the covers of one. As if he were a beacon to my bruised heart, I followed my feet until I arrived at his bedside. The wooden floor creaked beneath my feet. His body jolted upright, and he blinked into the light from the moon. “Phebe?”
I did not speak. I simply lifted the cover under which he lay and climbed inside. I let his smoky scent soothe my nerves as I lay down on the pillow beside him. I stared into his eyes and shuffled close to his warm body, the two of us barely fitting on the tiny mattress. I laid my head against AK’s shoulder and closed my eyes.
His arms came around me, and I heard his breathing in my ear. In the comfort of his safe embrace, I let sleep pull me under. And for the first time in my life, I lay in bed with a man and just slept.
My body protected in his arms . . .
. . . and perhaps my soul too.
Chapter Fifteen
AK
“You nearly got it that time,” I teased. Phebe huffed out a frustrated breath. The tree closest to us was chipped again. Fuck, the bitch was getting better, but shooting wasn’t easy. I would know.
She was doing better today. She had slept for almost a day after all the fucked-up shit she had told me. Bitch had had a kid. And worse, those asshole motherfuckers had taken her away and now she was fuck knows where. No wonder the bitch turned to drink.
My mind drifted to Zane, my kid nephew, and I fought back the fucking shame that filled me too. Phebe had lost a kid, and I had lost . . . everything . . .
Phebe leaned into me and hid her face in my chest, ripping me from my thoughts. She looked up and said, “I cannot even hit the central target at this tree.” She pointed at the farthest tree away. “Who could even hit that?” She shook her head.