I slam the booze back and pour another.
“Did you hear me?” She steps closer.
“Yes.” I bite the word off and swallow the second drink.
“Adam.” She reaches out, her fingers brushing my arm. I toss my glass down and turn to leave.
She won’t leave me alone, not till she says whatever the hell she came here to say. I know her too fucking well.
I stop. “Spit it out. I have shit to do.”
She fidgets with the edge of her habit. “Aren’t you even going to ask why I did it?”
“Why you did what?”
She moves even closer. “Lied for you,” she whispers. “The day you fucked that slut.”
I can’t kill her here, no matter how much I want to. It wouldn’t be difficult to drag her to the room where she let Faith die in my arms, but I refuse to tarnish that space with Grace’s blood. “I can only assume it’s because you want something out of it.” I meet her gaze, hatred sizzling beneath my skin.
Her lip trembles. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to say those words to me, Grace.” I keep my hands off her, though the thought of cracking her neck still brings untold comfort.
“I was young and stupid and still under his influence.” The words pour out, and I can hear the truth in them, but it doesn’t change my mind.
“You can’t make up for Faith, Grace. You can lie for me, help me, follow my every command, but I will never forgive you. Next time you have me over a barrel, I suggest you drown me. Because if you don’t, I’ll come for you one day.” I turn on my heel as tears streak down her face.
“Adam—” her voice breaks as she sinks to the floor.
She’s broken, but I can’t fix her.
Fuck, I can’t even fix myself.
Chapter 11
Delilah
“Best behavior.” Grace walks down the line of Maidens, baton in her hand. “What does that mean to you?” She stops just ahead of me and tilts Eve’s chin up with her baton. “Answer, Maiden.”
“Only speak when spoken to.” Her small voice trembles. “Don’t embarrass the Prophet. And, um—”
“And,” Grace broaches.
“Protect my Maidenhood.”
“Correct.” Grace continues past me, her eyes red-rimmed. I could swear she’s been crying, but that doesn’t quite square with what I know about the Head Spinner. My fingers flex instinctively, the small one on my right hand aching where she broke it. Abigail hasn’t bothered to replace the splint since my time in the Rectory, but says it should heal straight on its own.
“Tonight, you must shine for the Prophet. I don’t feel that I need to explain what will happen to you if you don’t. But I will, anyway.” She stops next to Mary and runs her fingers along the silver necklace at the girl’s throat. “These trinkets will sting if you get out of line, but they’ll be nothing compared to the pain you’ll suffer in the Rectory.” She walks back down the row, slowly now, as if savoring every wince on our faces. “The few of you who’ve been there know what happens behind those walls.” She stops next to me, her gaze cold. “Did you enjoy your stay, Delilah?”
I shake my head and ignore the phantom drip of water on my forehead. “No,” my voice barely makes it past my lips.
“I didn’t think so.” She smiles. “But look at you now. Made holy in the sight of the Prophet.”
I’m wearing a revealing white dress, the top dipping low between my breasts, and the hem barely covering my ass. At least they gave us white thongs to wear beneath them. With no bras, our tops are practically see-through. Dressed alike and each of us with makeup and overdone hair, we look the farthest thing from holy. I suppose the white hooker heels we’re wearing lift us closer to heaven.
“Chastity,” she barks, her eyes still on me. “Bring the robes.”
Chastity emerges from the hallway, several white robes over her arm. More Spinners walk in, some with veils. They dress each of us, and I sigh with relief once I’m covered with the opaque fabric that buttons tightly at the neck and falls all the way to my ankles. The lacy veil gives me just enough vision and the fleeting feeling that I’m hidden. The clothes are uncomfortable, but at least I don’t feel so exposed.
“We’re ready.” Grace finally leaves my side and heads to the front of the line. “Let’s go.”
The bus ride through the compound is a blur as Eve huddles next to me, her wide eyes holding more fear than I’ve ever seen. Perhaps she’s mirroring me. The same worry that consumes her gnaws at my gut, too. A million questions flit through my mind about what’s going to happen tonight. But no one will answer them for me. Instead, I focus on the few things I can control. Getting to Chastity is at the top of my list. She knows about Georgia and may be the key to me finding the killer. I won’t be distracted from my primary mission again. Georgia is the only constant in my life—but that’s the way it’s always been.