Heart Recaptured (Hades Hangmen 2)

“But that ain’t me no more,” he said as Cowboy put his leather-clad arm around Hush’s neck and forced him back, mouth at his ear, no doubt talking him down from slitting Tanner’s throat.

The room was silent, and I said, “You get that intel and we’ll fuckin’ see if you can roll with us.”

A loud whistle cut through the room, and all eyes fell on Styx. His face was stone. He pointed at Flame. “You, pick up this fuckin’ table and clean up the mess you made and cut the psycho shit down. Maddie ain’t yours. You don’t own that shit, so pipe the fuck down!” He next pointed to Hush and signed, “You’re our brother. You come first before any civilian, intel or not, right?”

Hush nodded and slouched back against the wall, glaring daggers at Tanner. Styx finally pointed at me. “And, Ky, last time I fuckin’ checked, I wore the president’s patch and I fuckin’ lead this club, not you. Don’t fuckin’ think because you finally found a pussy you wanna be all up for more than a fuckin’ second that you get to call the shots. You don’t. You’re not thinking straight and making a fuckin’ shit show of this church, so calm it the fuck down before I take you out of the plan to get Lilah back, period.”

“You wouldn’t fuckin’ dare,” I hissed.

Styx cracked his knuckles, then signed, “Try me, brother. I gotta protect this club. My VP acting like a damn whining pussy ain’t helping shit. I need you to back me, not cause more problems.”

Gritting my teeth, I picked up a fallen chair, sat my ass down, and shut my whining pussy mouth.

Styx signaled to Tank to translate, and he faced Tanner. “How long will you need to get the blueprints?”

Tanner listened to Tank and spoke to Styx. “‘Bout two hours. If I ain’t back in that time, I won’t be coming back.”

Styx watched Tanner, and I knew he was deciding how much the Neo could be trusted. Finally, he jerked his chin and signed, “Do it.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lilah

All night I had fallen in and out of a fitful sleep, the noises outside my quarters too quiet. I was used to hearing rumbling engines roar, bottles smashing, people laughing, people fighting, and it surprised me that I missed it.

I could not stop thinking of the months I had lived outside. I had wanted for so long to be back here with my people. I had prayed over and over that my people survived and would be coming back for me. But now I was here, and it felt strange to me. The only place I had ever belonged felt strange to me.

Sitting up on the bed, the ropes still tight and unyielding around my hands and feet, I tried to keep calm. The morning sun was filtering in through the window, flooding the sparse room with a yellowy glow. It could almost be serene, beautiful even, if I were not being held captive.

Footsteps sounded outside my door and shadows danced from the slit underneath. My breathing quickened and I grew stiff, waiting for whomever was about to enter.

The doorknob began to turn, and a second later, a woman entered wearing a long white dress, her vibrant red hair falling to the middle of her back, the front shielding her face.

“Greetings,” she said, her back to me as she shut the door.

“Gr-greetings,” I forced myself to reply. This woman must be my new stewardess, just as Sister Eve had been for most of my life. I kept my eyes to the floor, and suddenly the woman’s sandal-clad feet came into view.

“Look up,” the woman ordered, and doing as requested, I looked up. The woman was about my age, pretty… and she was smiling at me.

I did not understand her affection. I was a Cursed. I was not someone to be friendly toward. I was not to be interacted with, even by those charged with my care.

The woman lifted her hand, and I stilled as she stroked a finger down my cheek. “You do not recognize me, do you?” the woman said, and it caused me to study her further.

Her eyes were a stunning shade of green, her frame womanly with curves in all the right places. She was alluring. She was smiling… She was—

“Phebe?” I whispered, my pulse racing. “My Phebe?”

The woman’s eyes filled with happy tears and a blinding smile lit up her face as she dropped to kneel on the floor before me. “Rebekah. My sweet, sweet little Rebekah.”

My world stopped turning on hearing that name… my birth name, my blessed name awarded to me by my parents… before they realized the devil lived within me, before I was ripped away from those I loved, shunned and sent away to be saved.

“Do not say that name, please,” I begged, and Phebe lost her smile.

Her hand stroked my tangled hair from my face and she said sadly, “I know what you are and I know that evil runs in your veins. But you were always my precious beautiful little sister. My Rebekah who would sneak into my bed at night and allow me to braid her hair, allow me to sing her hymns and wait eagerly for me to recite scripture.” Her green eyes watched me, and she added, “Do you remember, my sister? Do you remember those precious times we shared before you were cast out?”

Memories flooded back. Happy times shared with Phebe engulfed my mind, memories I had blocked out. She cared for me, laughed with me, smiled with me, did chores with me, sang to me, read to me… loved me. I could not remember anybody loving me apart from Bella, Mae, and Maddie… and now Ky, although I understood that was enchanted, a spell.

“Psalm twenty-three,” I whispered after Phebe had dropped her eyes, a disappointed expression consuming her pretty face. “We would sing Psalm twenty-three.”