To the Ends of the Earth (Stripped 5)

A loud bang rings through the air, along with the metallic tang of blood. Blood spreads over white fabric. Green eyes flash with pain, with shock. With vicious intent. What have I done? Distantly I hear three more gunshots. Not mine.

I look over to see the man in the silver suit holding a gun, expression grim and savagely satisfied. Leader Allen’s bleeding body slumps to the ground.

He’s dead.

The person who touched me. Who forced me. He’ll never pray with me again. Never pray with anyone. And I know that despite every single one of his sermons that he isn’t going to heaven. He doesn’t deserve to.

The man with the green eyes turns to me. “Let’s go, little bird.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“I’m not leaving you here,” he snarls, looking as fierce as any demon. Because I shot him.

I hid that rifle under the floorboard six months ago, dreaming of the day when I’d use it. And never daring to think about the blood that would follow. It spills across his chest, bright and crimson. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t care. What will he do to me? Leader Allen was a man of God, and his punishment had been harsh. And this man, this man of tattoos and guns—his will be worse. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He reaches for my wrist. A twist, and the rifle falls to the floor.

I only have a second to react before he hauls me into his arms. He’s taking me. I don’t know how he manages to pull me when he’s been shot, but we’re leaving the house at a rapid pace. No no no. I only got free from Leader Allen two seconds ago. I won’t be held captive by yet another man with dark intentions. I’m punching him, yelling at him. Anything. Everything.

The sunlight blinds me, the world a blur of light spots and green eyes.

A shot rings out. Are they shooting someone else?

Dirt sprays against my leg, and I realize that someone is shooting at us. The men of Harmony Hills must have realized that their leader is dead. They’re fighting back.

The man shoves me into one of the large black cars and climbs in after me.

I scramble back, trying to get out. If he closes that door, I’m trapped.

With a cruel wrench, he twists me into the seat. The door closes as loud as a gunshot. Tires squeal as they fight the dirt for purchase. The car moves forward fast enough to lock me into the seat.

“No,” I’m shouting, crying. “Let me go.”

What will he do to me? How will he punish me? I hated the prayer sessions, the dry rice beneath my knees, but at least I knew what to expect. This is my home.

“They’ll kill you,” he growls. “Don’t you get that? You were in the room with us. You held a fucking gun on him. Doesn’t matter if your bullet ended up inside me or him. They’ll come for you. And no one here will protect you.”

He may as well have shot me, instead of the other way around. There’s a hole where all my fight had been, my struggle, spilling scarlet. “How do you know that?”

“Because if there was, you wouldn’t have been in that house.”

And I leave Harmony Hills, not on the back of a white horse, holding my prince.

I leave with the devil himself.

Chapter Two

His name is Luca.

I learn that early, from the driver of the big black car we’re in. I can’t see him through the dark-glass divider, but I hear him over some kind of speaker system. “Where to?”

“Away from this hellhole,” he snarls. “I’ll need to stop in a few hours. I’m hit.”

A whistle. “Someone shot you? Damn, Luca, you’re losing your touch.”

Green eyes narrow on me. “Don’t worry. I’ll get mine.”

My heart thuds against my ribs. What will he get? What will he do to me?