He doesn’t release me. His hand remains there, tight in my hair, fist against my scalp.
I close my eyes, relieved. When I’m like this, I can breathe again.
When he’s holding me, I can be still.
We remain like that over the many miles of the country road. I drift off—not quite in sleep, but not quite awake. It’s some floaty place where I don’t have to worry anymore. And Ivan holds me tight the whole time, not letting go even when it becomes clear I won’t fight him anymore, when someone else’s arm might get tired.
Even as a calm settles over me, I hate myself a little bit more. Hate myself for wanting his tender form of captivity, hate myself for needing it.
You don’t need it, Candace. The truth will set you free.
“A lot of people depend on him,” I say softly. “You may not understand it. Hell, I don’t even understand it completely. But there are innocent people there, children too, who depend on him.”
Ivan says nothing, staring out the window while holding me in place.
* * *
We turn a corner, and I feel Ivan’s body tense. He releases me, and I know we’ve arrived.
I scramble back onto the seat.
The entrance to Harmony Hills is unassuming, a simple metal arch topped with a metal medallion of the sun coming over the hills. There is no sign and definitely no phone number. There is a gate, but that’s not all that keeps people out.
The ground has spikes facing toward the road.
We pull to a stop along the side of the thin dirt road, where gravel fades into grass. Luca steps out of the car to open the door. Ivan steps out first, then extends his hand to me. Okay then.
There’s a small intercom jutting up from the road that I didn’t see before. The black metal box looks like it was installed decades ago, and I’m not sure it’s even functional—until Ivan presses the button.
A crackly voice comes across. “Who is it?”
Ivan says nothing, just watches me. Nerves tighten around my throat. My wild gaze catches Luca, who mouths They can see us.
I’m the engraved invitation.
I step forward and say in a tremulous voice, “It’s Candy.” A flush rises through my whole body—heating my chest, my neck. My cheeks. I don’t know where cameras would be located, but I’m hoping they’re black-and-white. “Candace Rosalie Toussaint.”
There’s a flicker of static, as if maybe a single short word was said, or maybe the connection was closed. The gate doesn’t move and the spikes don’t lower, but Ivan tilts his head toward the car. I follow him—taking his lead not to speak unless needed. He seems colder than ever, removed from the rest of us. This is how he’s able to do it. How he’s able to kill without remorse. How he’s able to rule. By being separate. Above us. It’s like he told me—he’s not so different from Leader Allen that way.
We sit in the back of the limo with cool air and smooth leather for ten minutes.
Then the gate rattles open on its own, remotely connected just like that intercom. The spikes lower. All three cars move forward, down the bumpy road that will take me home.
The road goes from bad to worse, and the limos are forced to stop.
Wordlessly, Ivan steps out and holds the door open for me. We’ll have to continue the rest of the way on foot.
I point to the tall house at the end of the lane. “There.”
The corner of Ivan’s lips lift. “I assumed as much.”
Of course, it’s the biggest structure here. It’s also the only one with regular running water and electricity that doesn’t black out at eight p.m. We have to pass all the other houses to get there. Some of them are barely held together, leaning to the side. Some of them are real houses. Where you live is based on how sinful you are. In other words, how much you obey Leader Allen.
I can feel eyes on me as we walk down the bumpy lane. It’s tricky to navigate even by foot, rough holes made by rain and loose rocks to remind us where we stand. My heart pounds as I see a curtain twitch in a window.
In the darkness of another house, I can see the whites of someone’s eyes as they watch us. In another one, I see the glint of something metal in the window. My heart starts to pound. A gun?
The sun ducks behind the clouds, casting a shadow over the cluster of buildings.