The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

Yes. I fold in on myself, making myself small on the inside, trying to hide my soul from him. But I know I can’t. There’s no escape from him.

“I’ll share you, darling. With friends. Haven’t decided if I’ll let them fuck you proper or not. But you’ll have to suck them, let them in your ass, rub their come all over your tits. Then I’ll fuck you while they watch. How’s that sound?”

He must feel me shaking, because he laughs low in his throat. Pressing his lips to my ear, he whispers, “I like you angry, darling. But I love you scared.”

Chapter 18

Adam

“Jesus Christ, this is fucking insane.” Noah kneels at the foot of the bed, his gaze on my unwrapped foot. “They’re just gone.”

“I know.”

“What do you think they did with them?”

“What?”

“What did they do with the two toes they cut off?” He scratches his ear and stares.

“I don’t know. I guess they threw them away.” I sigh. “Are you going to check the sites for infection or just gawk?”

Gregory stands stoic in his tank behind Noah’s back, and Felix slinks around near the door. I’m in the spare room Noah uses as his pet sanctuary. No cameras in here. Noah keeps the room locked ever since the “roasted Gregory” ruse we pulled on Dad. My brother’s become adept at navigating around the surveillance.

“I mean, they sewed you up. Everything looks clean. I don’t think I can take the stitches out yet. The skin is still sort of … raw where they cut them off.” He presses the back of his hand to his mouth and gags a little.

“Pussy.”

“Yeah.” He nods and stands, his hands on his hips. “In this case, I concur. Cannot handle that shit. Do you still feel them?”

“Yep. As far as my brain knows, those two toes are still alive and well.” He sits next to me and grabs my right hand, then starts unwrapping the gauze.

“I really thought we were going to get busted at the Chapel. Fuck, that was close.”

“I was doing fine. You were the one who was acting suspicious. All we had to do was stagger past, but you had to go and start talking. ‘I sure did drink a lot. I’m really trashed. Wow, I don’t know if I can drive. Man, I had too—’”

Color rises in his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. We got out though.”

“You’re a nervous talker.”

“Whatever.” He finishes unwrapping my hand and stares at it. “This is…”

“I know.” I can’t close my fist on either hand. I’ve tried several times, but the pain is too intense. “Some of the damage is permanent.”

“Fuck, Adam.” He turns my hand over and stares at the stitches in my palm. “Fuck.”

Honestly, it’s the only thing to say. I just nod and relax as he unbandages the other hand and inspects it.

He clears his throat. “Nothing’s infected. Those hookers know how to close a wound and keep it that way. God bless the Chapel.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I wince as he feels around the back of my right hand. The first day I woke up—really woke up—I vomited from the pain. But Noah doesn’t need to know that. This is bearable. I can take it, even when he smooths some antibiotic ointment onto the wounds.

“Good point. But surely Jez will reconsider this whole dynamite plan.” He pulls some fresh gauze from a box and gets to work.

“I don’t think so. Dad has pushed her too far for too long.”

He stops mid-wrap and peers at me with blue eyes that I don’t think will ever look anything but boyish to me. “Maybe I’m a fool, but I can’t believe Jez would actually go through with this.”

“It’s not just her, though. Chastity, Ruth, and several of the other women are in on it. And it’s not new—they’ve been planning for a while. They’d originally thought they could burn the place down, but thanks to Dad’s farm plans, now they’ve gotten their hands on the dynamite.”

Realization breaks across his face. “Oh, fuck. The stuff we’re using to clear the stone outcrops.”

“Exactly. They’ve already stockpiled enough to bring the church down, and they intend to do it during service. They think it’s justice.”

“All those children. How the fuck could that ever be justice?” He slaps the gauze onto my hand.

I tense from the shock of pain rushing through my arm.

“Sorry, man.” He eases up and goes slowly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know it’s a lot.” We have to stop them. That part goes unsaid between us. No matter what the Heavenly church members’ sins may be, they don’t deserve to die.

After a while, he says, “So we have to deal with whatever Mom’s cooking up, the dynamite bandits, and what else? I feel like I’m missing something.” He scrunches his nose. “Oh yeah, that’s it—our insane father. Got all the bases covered. Wait, one more thing. Deli—I mean Emily’s mother is in the Rectory.”