The van comes to a stop and three of the men stand guard by the door as the other two haul me up, holding me so tightly I’ve got no chance of moving, my body is a numb mess. My mind is spinning. I don’t know which way is left or right. I’m so damned confused.
The door opens, and I’m hustled out. We’re already inside the fence, and I get a better chance to look around. There are a few poorly lit huts surrounding a campfire right in the middle. Off to the left is a rather large shed-like building and it would seem that’s where I’m being led.
There are people everywhere. Young, old—all races. They’re all wearing white gowns, their hair flowing freely, and they all stop and watch me with scornful expressions as I’m dragged behind Josh into the shed.
The second we step inside, I gasp. It’s huge and elegant and not what I expected. Polished wooden floors, modern furniture—it’s set for a king.
We move to a room where I’m finally released. The windows are barred. I can tell by the panel by the door it is code-locked. I’m being held prisoner. Surrounded by a small but strong group of men, my heart pounds as I stare at the one man who so obviously runs this place. The man who is related to the man I love. How can they be so different? What happened to this man for him to become so . . . terrifying? Was it the same thing that happened to Tank? Is that why he’s so angry?
“I can’t believe you’re his brother,” I say softly, finally speaking the words that torment my thoughts.
His eyes find mine, and he grins. “He didn’t tell you much at all, did he?”
I don’t answer.
“I had a suspicion he was alive but couldn’t find the proof. Then he let his guard down the other evening when he stormed from your house in a rage.”
Oh god. The night I kissed Gerard.
“You’ve been watching me.” It’s not a question.
“Of course I have. I had a suspicion something was up, and I’ve seen you with Sheldon. It didn’t take much to figure it all out.”
I let him down. I let Heath down.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
“I don’t want anything from you, but I saw the look on my dear brother’s face. He’s in love with you. He’ll come for you.”
“And what?” I snap. “What do you think you’re going to gain from that?”
“This time,” he says, his eyes growing cold, “I’ll make sure he’s really dead.”
My blood runs cold.
No.
“What kind of monster are you?”
“I’m not a monster; I’m just carrying out God’s will. My brother is the monster here. He chose to take the wrong path and for that, he’ll be punished.”
“Why Heath?”
“Heath is the reason they’re all corrupt. Without him around, I have all faith my brothers will come to see the light.”
“My god, do you hear yourself?”
He laughs. “Why yes, I do.”
Sick. He’s sick. “Heath will end this. He’ll end you.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “He can try. I have all faith that I’ll be protected when needed.”
“You’re insane.”
“No, my dear. He is.”
I close my mouth. He’s just enjoying every second of this. He’s enjoying the taunts. The fighting.
“I’m going to let you settle in. Feel free to read my works beside your bed. Perhaps you’ll learn something. You might be able to be saved yet.”
“I’d rather burn in hell than join you.”
He flinches.
Ah, so he does have a weak spot.
“As you wish.”
He walks out before all the other men, and a second later, the door beeps as he locks it from the outside.
I’m effectively their prisoner.
***
I don’t see or hear from them again for the remainder of the night. I go through every corner of the room, but there isn’t a single way out, nor is there anything that could be used as a weapon. The lamp beside the bed is glued down, for Christ’s sake. There’s a bed that’s so solid I couldn’t move it if I tried, a few beside tables chained to the ground, and an old sofa. That’s it.
Well, there is his written dribble beside the bed, but Josh can go to hell if he thinks I’m reading that crap.
So I sit on the end of the mattress until morning washes through the barred windows. I take the chance to peer out, but see nothing except trees and a huge fence in the distance. Sighing, I go back to my spot on the bed and wonder how the hell this man can think killing his own brother is God’s will. Who and what creates someone to be like this? Who in his life taught him to be such a monster?
The door opens just as the sun disappears into the sky, and Josh walks in, followed by three of his men. He carries a tray of fruit and water. He puts it down, and I scowl at it. “You will eat, then you will bathe. We don’t tolerate uncleanliness here. Nor do we tolerate wastage.”
“I’m not showering in front of you crack pots,” I snap.
“Then you’ll be held down and forced to.”
My skin prickles, and my heart pounds. “You even try to touch me, I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”
He smiles. “Empty threats.”
“Let me speak to him,” I demand.