Soon, I tell myself. And then no one will ever touch her again.
When it’s over, a rush of Disciple followers flees to the field behind the church in preparation of the final part of the ritual—the sacrifice. The cult’s newly “saved” whore, presented to Him in death to be reborn.
But I’m not one of them.
As promised, I’ve returned to our cabin to wait. To prepare. To kill.
They’ll never see it coming. No one has ever dared question a member of the Twelve, much less threaten one. My mutiny will blindside whoever delivers my Madi to me.
I stand waiting by the door. My hand is steady, the steel tucked inside it comforting. For the first time in twenty years, I feel powerful.
Justified.
This is God’s will. Everything I’ve been taught has been lies. Everything I’ve seen has been sin, and everything I’ve heard has been blasphemy.
I was born to save Madi. And if my blood spills, then it spills for her.
The door creaks open, and I widen my stance. A bare, bloody foot is the first thing I see, and I force myself not to react as Madi steps timidly inside the room, her ceremonial white gown stained in angry splotches of blood.
Her blood.
Fury thrums through my veins, but I grit my teeth and remain quiet. Soon, her long, flowing hair follows as I watch her eyes dart around the room. She’s looking for me.
I’m here, cara mia.
“Where are you, boy?” Hal, one of my father’s parishioners, follows her inside, his heavy boots and dirty jeans a stark contrast to Madi’s delicate feet. “The Reverend wants it ready and outside the church in fifteen minutes”
It... She’s not even Mary to them anymore. She’s a thing. A broken toy to be destroyed.
Ten seconds, I remind myself. Wait ten seconds until he’s fully inside and then strike. But before my count gets to four, Madi turns around, gripping the torn shreds of her gown. Her breasts are exposed, and from my corner position, I see the change in Hal’s rigid, soldier-like posture. I see the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips.
I see his hand cup the crotch of his jeans.
Oh fuck.
“Your fate is sealed, whore,” he intones, stepping toward her. “Might as well meet God with my seed inside your filthy body too.”
Ten seconds. That was the plan.
But the plan never included another man touching Madi in our cabin, a sacred place he wants to defile with his cock.
I don’t think; I raise the knife and lunge, plunging it deep into his shoulder blade. “Mine!” Drawing the blade back out, I aim for his chest, when he grabs my wrist, stopping the fatal blow.
“Luca!” Madi screams, backing away, her hands cupping her mouth.
“Heathen!” Hal roars. I fight his hold, but he’s bigger and stronger. “The Reverend knows of your lustful sins! You’ll burn in hell for all of this...” His nostrils flare as he twists my arm and drives my own blade deep into my stomach.
“No!” Madi’s screams echo through my head like a record skipping at the same fatal beat. I watch her take one step forward, and I know if she takes another, we’ll both die here on this dirty cabin floor in the woods.
“Run, Madi,” I command roughly. “Run while you can!” My words provide the distraction I need. As Hal turns to grab her, I pull out the blade lodged in my gut and sink it into his back again. This time, my aim is better. I can almost hear his lung deflating like a leaky balloon.
That should have been enough.
But my bloodlust demands more, and I draw my knife to claim my fatal blow to his heart when my nose catches his fist. The punch knocks me off balance, staggering me into the door and sending the knife clattering to the floor.
“Luca...” Madi’s voice sounds shattered. I wish I could kiss her tears away, but all I can do is ensure that she lives to cry more.
“Be strong and courageous,” I gurgle through blood-stained lips, hoping she remembers the verse I spoke to her earlier. “Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.”
I’ll find you someday, Madi. Whether in this life or the next.
“It’s too late for scripture, boy.”
My pulse is slowing... I can hear it in my ears. It drowns out my own breathing as well as the sound of Hal picking up my weapon, raising his hand, and aiming both toward my chest.
“The wages of sin is death, boy.” His muscled arm swings downward, plunging the knife between my ribcage.
The last thing I remember is the flutter of Madi’s white gown as she slips out the door and into the arms of freedom.
PRESENT DAY
“So now you know almost everything,” I tell her.
Giving a voice to the past doesn’t faze her anymore. The shock has melted away, leaving only a bitter trail of tears behind. “Almost?” Madi narrows a calculated stare at me. Deep down, she knows the final blade has yet to fall. “What else is there to know? Twelve Disciples, twelve murders. I killed eleven, you claimed the twelfth.”
I don’t bother trying to hide the smirk as I tuck a piece of her short brunette hair behind her ears. “Twelve Disciples, but not twelve murders, cara mia. I believe a coworker unexpectedly moved across the state?”
Her eyebrows shoot toward her hairline. “Jackson?” When I nod, so does she. “A couple of weeks ago...” Madi’s voice trails off as the pieces of her own jagged puzzle snap into place. “The same time your father was murdered. Luca...what do you know about him?”
“No more secrets, cara mia. As I told you that last night at our cabin, do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you. God may have forsaken you, Madi, but I haven’t. And I never will.”
For the first time since embracing her true self, her face blanches, but it’s not out of disgust of her own bloodthirst. It’s out of shame. “You know that...” She looks away. “That he...”
“That he raped you?” I grip the thin blanket, fighting to keep my temper in check. “Yes.”
She snaps that sharp gaze back on my face. “But how?”
“Oh, my beautiful, wilted rose. You talk in your sleep. You have since you were sixteen years old.”
She rears back, an impending storm brewing in her eyes. “You were in my room?”
Doesn’t she know? I sat by her bedside watching her in restless slumber. I listened to her scream out that motherfucker, Jackson King’s name as her body reenacted his vile act. I wiped away her tears as she sobbed afterward, calling my name and begging for death. Luckily, we’re one and the same.
“Did you really think I’d walk away from you, Madi?” I ask, pulling her shaking body against me with a firm hand. “That after ten years of searching and biding my time, I’d sacrifice our love for my freedom? No, cara mia. I never left Ft. Lauderdale. I never left you.”
I can see the wheels turning in her head. The pieces are falling faster than she can catch them and there’s a small part of her that Madigan still clings to; a part I have to sever however painful it may be.
“Ask me, Madi. Ask me the question you already know the answer to.”
The frantic shaking stops as she looks dead into my eyes. “Did you kill Jackson King?”