The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

“Fine. I heard she’s going back to the Cloister. Word is that she’s gone wild, threatened to kill that senator if he even thinks about touching her.”

I smile, my dry lips cracking.

Jez recoils slightly. “Jesus, man. You look … Anyway. She’ll be here for a while longer. The Prophet wants her broken. All the way. So she can be the perfect wifey to Evan and the perfect slave to the Prophet.”

“She won’t break.” My words come out like shattered glass.

“We all break.” She blinks hard, her past written in the scars on her body and her mind. “Every one of us. Eventually.”

“Not her. Not my Emily.”

She smiles sadly and lies to me. “Sure. Not her.” She scoots the blindfold back into place. “Just relax. We’ve got some work to do. But first we’re going to knock your ass out.”

Someone touches my foot. My toes.

Shit! “Wait, Jez, don’t—” But I feel the sting in my arm, and then the world turns on its side, the darkness swirled with rainbow and a girl in a white dress. She runs away from me, and I chase her.

I’ll always chase her.

Chapter 9

Delilah

I lie on my stomach, my head turned on the pillow. No matter how far I think I can get, I always wind up back here. My room at the Cloister.

“They aren’t as bad as some I’ve seen.” Chastity smooths aloe across the belt marks on my ass and thighs.

I wince at the light, caring touch of her fingers.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She finishes her work and pulls my dress back down.

“I should have used the knife.”

“What?” She leans closer, her voice a whisper.

“I had a butter knife.” I can still feel the warm metal in my hand, see the vein pumping in the Prophet’s throat as he sat and ate his lunch. “I should have used it.”

“Don’t talk like that. Not when they can hear you.”

My gaze meets hers. “I didn’t do it. You know why?”

She shakes her head. “Stop.”

“Because I didn’t want to do it in front of all his children. Because that would scar them.” A dry laugh crackles out of me. “Because I didn’t want to be the monster that haunts their dreams every night—the crazed women with the bloody butter knife.”

“Shhh.” She smooths her hand over my hair. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I should have used the knife.” I turn back to my pillow, feeling the tears burn behind my eyes but not letting them fall.

“I have to go.”

“I know.” My voice is muffled.

“If I can come back, I will.” The bed shifts as she stands.

“Adam.” I turn toward her again, catching the swish of her skirt as she walks away. “Do you know anything about what happened to him? Did they take him down?”

Her back stiffens. “I … He’s still up there, as far as I know.”

She knows more. I can feel it in the way she refuses to turn around and meet my eye. “Chastity, please—”

“I told you. He’s there, as far as I know. I’m sorry.” She hurries out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

My mind races with possibilities. Maybe he escaped? What if—I don’t know—maybe Noah grew a pair and rescued him? I clench my eyes shut at the topsy turvy thought of being grateful to the man who killed my sister. Breathe. I’ll deal with that when I come to it. Not before.

When I shift onto my side, slices of pain echo from the lash marks across my backside. But I’ve been hurt before. The marks will heal—even the few spots where he broke the skin.

My thoughts stray into darker territory. Will Adam be able to recover? And—the one place I don’t want to go beckons—what if he’s dead? What if Chastity knows it, but didn’t want to tell me.

“Stop.” I bite my lip. Thinking like that could break me. And I promised Adam that I wouldn’t break for anyone but him.

The Prophet wants me here for more training, that’s what Grace has convinced him I need. I’m a pawn in whatever game that bitch is playing. She wanted me out of here so badly that she practically threw me at Evan. But now she wants me to stay. Why?

Too many questions whip around inside me like a whirlwind. No answers join the maelstrom. It’s all sound and violence and blood. I shift again, ignoring the ache, and hug my pillow. There is a way out of all this. I know in my bones that I can bring this place to its knees. The only thing I’m not sure of is whether I can do it without Adam. If I’ve lost him, too, I don’t know if I can find the will to go on.

A memory fires—the little girl at the bonfire, the one who looked up at me with hopeful eyes.