The Camp (Chateau 2)

That wouldn’t happen again.

“I won’t kill you—because you’re my brother. But I will punish you to satisfy the men who want me to kill you.”

I expected nothing less.

“Anything you want to say before I start?” He pulled out a knife from his pocket and held the hilt between both hands, his eyes slightly down, patiently waiting for me to speak my final words before the torture commenced.

I shook my head.

He got to his feet and turned to his men. “Hold him down.”

Two

Executioner

Winter turned to spring.

Months passed, and we rebuilt that place.

It was tough work because we couldn’t get shipping trucks out there. All the essentials had to be carried in wagons, and while that became easier as the snow disappeared, it was never simple.

I rarely left the camp, unless I had other business to attend to.

Fender and I hardly spoke during that time.

He was still angry with me.

I was angry with myself.

I didn’t spend my free time thinking about the woman who’d made a fool out of me, but the humiliation had left a deeper scar than the one my brother gave me. It was a part of me now, an integral piece to my puzzle. I was bitter, angry, and spiteful.

I wished death upon her.

After everything I’d done for her…everything…she did that to me.

How fucking stupid was I?

I actually felt like shit for what had happened to her, to her sister, to the women who had to hang from the noose every week. I questioned the camp altogether, considered another way of doing business without the loss of lives.

But then she reminded me why it could never change.

Why it should never change.

The camp was built in a similar fashion as last time, the same foundation of cabins scattered throughout the field between the cover of trees. But this time, we built a wooden fence around the perimeter.

No one was escaping this place again.

Fucking no one.

When Raven was returned to the camp, I would make sure she stayed there for the rest of her life.

The camp was completed by late April, before the summer season hit. It would be too hot to work in those conditions, so we busted our asses to get everything done before that time. The surviving guards didn’t speak to me, seeing me as a traitor, but they didn’t try to harm me…probably because my punishment had been sufficient.

But I never dropped my guard because a knife could slice into my back at any moment.

It was unlikely they would kill me because my brother would slaughter them all.

But if it looked like an accident…maybe they would.

Once the camp was completed, Fender came for a visit.

On horseback, with some of his men, he entered the camp, strong and bulky in the saddle. He looked around as he held the reins, scanning the wooden cabins, the clearing where the new prisoners would work all day, and then he stopped his horse in front of us.

The prisoners were locked in the cabins, so there was no reason to hide our faces. We wore work jeans and t-shirts with sweat on the backs of our necks. Fender was dressed similarly, and when he threw his leg off the horse and landed on the ground, the thud from his body was loud.

He moved forward and looked around, taking his time examining everything.

I waited outside with the guards as he went into the cabins, the bunks, the weapons room, and the clearing to inspect everything with his highly trained eye. He wanted this place exactly as it’d been before—but better.

Some of the guards looked at me, making it clear if Fender didn’t like it, the blame would be mine alone.

Alix, the one with the dark beard who tried to coerce Raven into a blow job, stared me down with malice in his eyes. The other guards disliked me, but he particularly hated me. “The boss doesn’t like it, it’s on you, Romeo.”

That was my nickname now—Romeo.

Because I was a fucking pussy.

Fender returned, scanning the area before he finally placed his gaze on mine. His brown eyes were the same, but his were innately furious. Even when he laughed, he looked livid. He stared at me for the first time since that night, really stared at me. The other times we had been in the same room, he’d ignored my existence.

Like he was ashamed of me.

He gave his approval with a slight nod.

Alix narrowed his eyes on my face, as if he’d hoped Fender would hate it so I’d be cut again.

“We’ll get our first drop tomorrow. The girls will get back to work.” Fender looked at the clearing where the tables were prepared, exactly as they’d been before. There was a new noose hanging on the wooden pole, ready for the first victim. There was no snow, but the ground would still bleed red. “More workers will be delivered to the camp throughout the week.” He moved toward me, his boots thudding against the earth with his muscled weight. His arms didn’t even swing by his sides because his posture was still so rigid. It was hard for him to look at me because I still made him so angry. He stopped right in front of me, so he could speak quietly enough for only me to hear. “I’ll personally retrieve that cunt.”