He’s not going anywhere, no matter how hard he fights. He’ll die on that table, a slow and painful death, only his thoughts keeping him company. It’s not as gruesome as some of the deaths my brothers and I have meted out, but he’ll
suffer regardless. Starvation and dehydration are their own sort of torture. Suffering for a period of days, knowing he has no chance to escape, feeling powerless in the face of death, his body withering away.
When we were kids, Emo’s father, Deacon, had cameras and censors surrounding the lodge. Emo had them upgraded when we moved back. Even though people know they’re not allowed in this part of the woods, he’ll still keep an eye on things. If someone steps within two hundred feet of the lodge in any direction, Emo’s phone will alert him.
I take a step back, watching as Mitchell’s cheeks move, noises coming from his throat as if trying to convey something. His eyes look around the room frantically, going to each of my brothers, silently begging them for help. Their eyes are just as cold as mine as they glare back at him.
Without a word, I spin on my heel and stalk out of the lodge. This will be the last time I see my father alive. I’ll come back in a week to make sure he’s dead, even though it’ll be more like only five days before his body gives out. I’m already dreading the stench his corpse will give off.
It’s taken years to get to this point in my life, to get the revenge I’ve craved since I was a child. To eliminate the evil that’s plagued me. Now that I’ve accomplished it, I feel lighter, free and unchained from the past.
Giving me exactly what I need to look forward to the future.
Ten Days Later…
I step through the door of the lodge, and I’m immediately assaulted with the scent of death. Walking closer to the table, the only thing I feel for the man sightlessly staring up at the ceiling is relief and satisfaction. The world is a better place without him in it, and I’m damn glad I took part in wiping him from it.
Crusted blood rims his nostrils and trails down his cheeks. His body has started to bloat. The skin is so tight around the tape that it looks like I can poke it with a needle and it’ll explode.
I’m tempted to leave him here and just let his body rot until there’s only bones left. But we still use the lodge, and I don’t want to deal with the smell when we do.
The only thing left to do is bury the body in the graveyard we reserve for people like Mitchell.
After that, my brothers and I will continue our hunt for the remaining members of Sweet Haven.
Chapter Thirty
ELLIE
I STAND AT THE OPEN FRONT door with one hand gripping the handle and the other clenched around the frame, my mouth stupidly hanging open.
Three pairs of wary eyes stare back at me. One light-brown, one blue, and one hazel.
“Umm… hi?” I say, inwardly berating myself when my voice comes out squeaky.
The one named Jamie steps forward first, her smile pleasant and genuine. “Hello. I’m not sure if you remember us. I’m J—”
“Jamie,” I say, cutting her off. My eyes move to the other two. “Layla and Gillian. I remember. Judge has told me about you.”
She gives a small nod and looks back at her friends before facing me again. “We were wondering if we could come in and talk?”
I want to say no, to slam the door in their faces. These women all shared Judge, know him intimately, have been an integral part of his life. But I’m not that person. I can’t be rude. Besides, I pep talk myself, they haven’t done anything wrong. Judge hasn’t either. Sexual behavior is human nature. I have no right to judge them for the lifestyle they chose. Jealousy is a hard pill to swallow, but swallow it I must.
I step back and gesture for them to come inside. The relief on all of their faces is palpable, and it makes me wonder why they care so much. Judge says it’s because they care about him and his happiness, but could they be there to get close to him through me? Do they have an ulterior motive? I hope not, because they’ll learn real soon that I won’t give him up without a fight.
“Would any of you like something to drink?” I ask, acting the friendly host while mentally counting down the seconds until they leave. I hate being so cynical, but I know nothing about these women except for what Judge has told me. Women tend to act differently around the opposite sex.
They decline, so I lead them to the couch and take the chair opposite them. My palms are sweaty, so I rub them down my thighs as I regard them.
“So,” I begin, tapping my fingers on my knees. “What can I do for you?”
They quickly glance at each other, something passing from one to the other, before turning back to me.
“We wanted to get to know you,” Layla says, her voice quiet and sickly sweet.
I give her my eyes, one brow raised, and ask suspiciously, “Why?”
She smiles and demurely clasps her hands in her lap. “We mean no ill will toward you, Ellie. We have no hidden agendas. I know this is a strange situation for you. It’s strange for us too. I understand this isn’t something you want to hear, but for years, it was us who Judge came to for emotional support and…” She pauses, a crease forming between her eyes. “…physical relief.”