Insanity, p.17
Insanity, page 17
“What are you doing here?” Reece practically breathes the words, his face drawn tight in horror. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t…” He shakes his head.
Ellie steps forward. “We’re here to save you. To get you out of here.”
“But you’re just children,” Reece points out.
Zane snorts at that, and Beckett rolls his eyes.
“Children. Serial killers. Psychopaths.” Zane waves a flippant hand in the air. “We’ve been called them all.”
“I’m not a psychopath,” Beckett insists haughtily.
Zane gives our friend a look. “Surrre you’re not.”
“I’m not.”
“So you wouldn’t murder any man who puts a finger on Ellie?” Zane arches an eyebrow with a distinct “I got you” twinkle in his eyes.
Beckett opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it yet again. After a moment, he scowls and folds his arms over his chest. “Fuck all the way off,” he grumbles.
Zane beams.
“Put this on.” I toss the spare robe and mask toward Reece, and he barely manages to catch it, staggering slightly. He truly has lost a shit ton of weight. He’s nothing but skin and bones.
“You four should leave.” Reece stares forlornly at the stolen clothes. “There’s no escape for me.”
Come the fuck on.
Enough with his damn pity party.
We need to leave. Now.
Ellie doesn’t share my irritation. Instead, her expression warms, and she takes a tentative step forward.
“I don’t know even half of what you’ve been through since POP took you,” she says, her eyes open and earnest. “But I swear to you, we’re not with them. You know we’re not. And I also promise we’ll do everything in our power to get you away from here.”
Reece begins to tremble, though he doesn’t pull his eyes away from hers, flicking them across her face, as if he can detect any sign of insincerity or deceit. Ellie continues to stare at him, an open book, and I literally see the moment the asshole falls a little bit in love with her.
I just pray Zane doesn’t see what I do. He’ll kill him within seconds. Hopefully, he’s too distracted by—
Zane licks his lips and stares intently at his bedazzled dagger, still embedded in the wall, then focuses on the pulse in Reece’s neck, as if he’s envisioning slicing the blade through the sensitive skin there.
He saw the look of adoration too.
Fuck.
“Put the damn clothes on.” Beckett moves slightly to stand in front of Ellie, blocking her from view. Smart thinking, considering Reece Whipers is still very, very naked, every inch of his gaunt, frail body on display.
Reece gives a jerky nod and immediately dons the robe and mask. All of us release a collective breath as soon as he’s dressed.
“Come on,” Ellie whispers. “We need to find a way out of here. Or protect you until the time ends.”
“Do you really think The Divine One will let us go once the hour is up?” Reece asks, huffing out a disbelieving breath.
“No,” Ellie answers simply. “Which is why we need to find a way out of here.”
Reece moves to follow Ellie, and Zane takes the opportunity to slide his dagger out of the wall. Before he can take a step in their direction, I grab his arm, pulling him to a stop. “No stabbing.”
He pouts, resembling a recalcitrant child. “But—”
“No stabbing,” I repeat. “You can stab POP members and The Divine One. Not the people we’re trying to save.”
“But—”
“You can’t seriously tell me you’re jealous over a guy who’s been tortured, assaulted, and starved?” I demand.
Instead of appearing chastised, as I intended, Zane simply arches a brow. “You’re telling me you aren’t?”
I shove his shoulder. “No stabbing.”
Zane makes a face, but I know he won’t hurt Reece, despite his teasing. None of us will. We’ll do exactly as we promised—get him the fuck away from POP and The Divine One once and for all.
Then, if he continues giving Ellie googly eyes, we’ll stab him.
But only once he’s free.
The five us race down hall after hall, pausing at every fork and listening for any sound. When we hear voices—or footsteps—we move in the opposite direction.
Ellie’s right. Even if we protect Reece until the end of the game, there’s no guarantee he’ll be allowed to live. The Divine One doesn’t play fair. This is just a game to her, after all. A fucked-up, sadistic game with no rules that don’t benefit her.
Ellie pauses abruptly, determination stamped across her features. She glances in both directions, then pulls her head all the way up, until she’s staring at the ceiling.
“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Zane asks, sidling up beside her.
“That we’ve been running in circles and haven’t found a single way out of this maze? That the only place we haven’t searched is the ceiling? Then, yes.” Ellie nods resolutely.
Zane blows out a breath. “Okay, because that wasn’t entirely clear—”
Beckett shoves Zane out of the way and moves to claim the spot beside her. “I don’t think the ceiling will hold our weight, even if we lie down flat and distribute it evenly.”
“Maybe not your weight…” She allows the words to taper off, and all of us turn to stare at Reece, who stands slightly to the side, looking out of place in the oversized cloak and mask.
He takes a single step backward, his hands raised placatingly. “And what do you suppose I do once I’m up there? Wiggle around like a worm until I find an exit? Wait until everyone leaves and then sneak out? That’s fucking crazy.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Beckett snaps.
Reece makes a strangled sound, but whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by Zane throwing his knife in the air, the blade spinning wildly. At first, I think that he has disregarded my “no stabbing” rule and is going to kill Reece right then and there.
But the dagger embeds itself into the chest of a man creeping toward us.
He falls forward instantly, dead.
“Fuck!” someone curses, and then four more POP members materialize in front of us, all brandishing knives.
Something dark and malevolent wakes inside me, blinking its eyes open and yawning.
“You don’t want to do that,” I tell them, already lowering to a defensive crouch.
“Just give us the lamb,” one of the POP members snarls. Then he lunges at me, swiping with his blade. I stealthily jump to the side with an, admittedly, deranged chuckle.
“You don’t know how to use that blade, do you?” I taunt.
With a roar of unfettered rage, the man charges at me again, but this time, I’m easily able to step around him and coil an arm around his neck. He struggles, attempting to free himself, but I simply tighten my grip. When he paws weakly at my arm, his grime-covered fingernails digging into my flesh, the pain only bolsters me.
He falls forward, unconscious, a second later.
“Anyone else?” I ask cockily, kicking at the man on the ground. His mask comes askew, and I try to deduce whether I recognize him. He doesn’t look familiar, but that’s not necessarily surprising. The only face I actively pay attention to is Ellie’s.
“Wait! Stop!” Ellie, who has been standing behind Beckett, steps forward, her face pale.
Everyone stops.
Instantly.
Without hesitation.
Without complaint.
What the fuck?
I toss Zane, who’s closest to me, a wide-eyed look, but he simply shrugs in response. I notice, somewhat belatedly, that he had grabbed his knife out of the man’s chest and must’ve used it to slash the throat of a different POP member. She lies on the ground, her mask beside her, graying hair cascading in all directions, the strands stained with red.
I didn’t even hear him commit the murder.
Sneaky bastard. Always trying to one-up me.
Ellie continues to speak, her voice trembling slightly, though she keeps her chin hefted in the air imperiously. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Whispers ripple among the POP members still standing with us in the hall. I count four, meaning more must have arrived, drawn to the noise.
Why aren’t they attacking?
Why are they just standing there, staring at Ellie?
An ominous silence stretches through the hallway, growing teeth and claws that nip and slash at me.
“Just…just back away,” Ellie continues.
One of the POP members takes a step forward. “Goddess—”
Wrong fucking move, buddy.
Quick as a blink, Zane is across the hall, his knife jammed into the vulnerable throat of the cult member. He sputters, blood dribbling from underneath his mask, then he slides forward, dead. Beckett moves behind a second POP member, wrapping an arm around his neck, the way I did earlier. Trusting my brothers to handle themselves, I focus on the last two.
Who are still staring intently in Ellie’s direction, seemingly unconcerned or oblivious to the fate of their friends.
My heart makes a mad dash up my throat, trying to escape.
What the ever-loving fuck?
It only takes me seconds to dispatch the crazy-ass cult members. A twist of the neck here, and a slice of a blade there. As the last one falls, I lean forward to whisper in his ear, “The only one allowed to worship Ellie is us, asshole.”
“What the fuck just happened?” Ellie asks, taking a staggering step back, away from the bodies and blood on the floor.
Hot anger churns in my stomach and migrates all the way to my toes, feeding a burst of adrenaline that zings through my muscles and clears the fog in my mind.
“They think you’re a goddess,” I growl out. “Their goddess. Fuck.”
“They just…let you kill them.” Her voice shakes again.
“It’s not as satisfying to stab someone when they don’t fight back,” Zane says with a petulant pout.
“This is goddamn insane.” Beckett shakily runs his fingers through his tousled brown hair.
“Not insane,” Reece whispers, his voice subdued. “Well, not any more insane than everything else we’ve had to deal with.” He turns his masked face entirely in Ellie’s direction, swallowing convulsively. “You’re…you’re their goddess. The Divine One convinced all the believers that you’re Cassia reincarnated. Of course they’ll listen to what you say.”
Ellie’s face has drained of all color, looking paler than even Reece’s did in the artificial lighting.
“That’s…that’s crazy.”
“Hundreds of years ago, Aria’s family orchestrated this entire fucked-up religion. Maybe, at the time, they actually believed in it. But now, the Paragons of Prosperity is made up of two groups—the fanatics who believe death and sacrifice will bring them good fortune and luck, thanks to Cassia, and those who simply use the religion as an excuse to murder, rape, and steal.
“Most people stopped believing in Cassia…until your arrival. You brought faith back to the Paragons of Prosperity. The majority of members believe you’re their goddess brought back to life.”
“Fuck,” Ellie whispers, her lips barely moving. “That’s exactly what Aria intended.”
Reece’s voice is solemn when he speaks next. “Aria may be the preacher, but she’s not a god. You are.”
Ellie swallows. “Are you suggesting…?”
“That you may be more powerful than even Aria is? Yes.” He shakily removes his mask and allows it to hang limply by his side. He stares at Ellie with nothing short of reverence in his gaze. I hate it. “You may be the key to stopping this all, Ellie. Forget destroying The Divine One. Maybe the way to stop the Paragons of Prosperity once and for all is to rally its members behind a new leader.”
Fuck me.
25
ELLIE
“So do we have a plan B?” Reece asks, placing his hands on his thighs and heaving out a stuttered breath. We’ve been sprinting down the halls for the last ten minutes and still have not found an exit. We’re running out of time and options.
“Dude, we didn’t even have a plan A,” Zane responds. “We’re literally winging this as we go.”
“Maybe you just need to hide,” I suggest, nibbling on my nail. My thoughts froth as solution after solution pop to the forefront of my mind before instantly getting buried.
“They’ll find me.” Reece’s voice is nothing but a whisper, rife with fear.
“Maybe I could try to convince them to let you go,” I continue, trying to follow the thread my mind unraveled. “Maybe—”
“The Divine One will kill your men and torture you,” Reece interrupts. “She won’t allow herself to be undermined like that. Not even for you.”
“We can’t just stay here.” Dom begins to pace, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides. “We’re sitting ducks.”
“What options do we even have?” Beckett interrupts. “We can either help Reece survive the next fifteen minutes and pray The Divine One keeps her word—”
“Which she won’t,” I say, knowing that with unwavering certainty.
“Or we can hide Reece somewhere and return for him. We could fake his death,” Beckett continues. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
Reece swallows and turns his masked face in my direction. “Is it true? That The Divine One is your mother?”
“Apparently.” I can barely wrap my head around it myself.
“That won’t save you, you know,” he tells me, and his ominous words elicit a fresh round of goose bumps on my arms. “I have no idea what her end goal is, but it’s apparent that she lives and breathes this organization.”
“She doesn’t even believe in the damn religion,” Dom growls out, forking his fingers through his platinum-blond locks.
“She’s a psychopath, plain and simple,” Beckett agrees.
Silence blankets the air between us—the uncomfortable kind that grows fangs and claws, slicing and nipping at us. None of us can argue with Beckett’s assessment of her. Aria truly is a psychopath. My guys are, too, but somehow, she’s different. More calculated.
My guys kill to protect me.
She kills because she seems to enjoy it.
Or maybe it’s not the killing she enjoys but the power granted to her as The Divine One. She’s practically a god to these people. She decides who lives and who dies. I wonder if, once upon a time, she used to be normal. If she had dreams and hopes for the future.
I’ve seen power corrupt people before.
“We can’t just leave Reece to die,” I insist, my brain scattering in a thousand different directions, desperate to come up with a solution. Any solution.
Maybe I had the right idea when I suggested he hide in the ceiling. If he can get up there, and stay silent, then he might be able to remain hidden long enough to escape.
Before I can articulate the thought, however, I become aware of the sensation of eyes on the back of my head. Energy fires up my spine in a series of sporadic explosions, and I suck in a scorching breath.
Someone’s here.
Someone’s watching.
I immediately reach for my dagger, but my guys are already moving, stealthily slipping in front of me.
A ball of panic rises in the base of my throat.
“Show yourself,” I declare, grateful when my voice comes out steady.
Footsteps precede the masked figure as he exits the room directly to the right of us.
Zane pulls his arm back, preparing to throw his dagger, when the intruder says, “Stop! It’s me!”
“Doyle?” Dom’s brows form a knot in the center of his forehead.
Dom’s older brother removes his mask and allows it to hang limply at his side.
Doyle looks awful. Absolutely awful. He seems to have lost at least ten pounds since we last saw him, only a few days ago. His brown hair hangs in disheveled, greasy clumps on his head. Purplish smudges line both of his eyes, evidence that he hasn’t been sleeping, and his cheekbones stand out starkly.
Doyle sweeps his gaze over all of us before pausing on Reece, still disguised as a member of POP.
“I can help you,” Doyle tells us, his voice a rasp of sound.
Suspicion rakes its claws across Dom’s face. “Help us with what?” He keeps his voice nonchalant, as if we’re not attempting to do something damn near suicidal.
“I can get Reece out of here. I know a back door. Usually, it’s reserved for staff, but I can get us through.” Doyle glances in both directions, as if ensuring we’re still alone, before refocusing on us, his eyes laser sharp. “Are you coming?”
“Why should we trust you?” Dom demands.
Doyle’s expression doesn’t change, not even for a second. He doesn’t appear hurt or offended by Dom’s mistrust. He simply says, “Do you have a choice?”
“He told us about Ellie,” Beckett points out.
“Because The Divine One played him.” Zane narrows his eyes suspiciously, as if he’ll be able to decipher every one of Doyle’s secrets by glaring at him hard enough.
Worry swells behind my ribs. “That may be true, but we really don’t have a choice. Every other option ends with Reece’s death.”
“Wow. Thanks,” Reece deadpans.
Dom gives him an annoyed look. “You know that’s true.”
“Come on,” Doyle insists, gesturing us forward. “Before time runs out. We only have a few minutes left.”
I exchange anxious glances with my guys, but Doyle is right.
What choice do we have?
Relief and terror hold hands in my chest as I follow after Doyle.
Relief…because we might be able to free Senator Reece Whipers once and for all.
Terror…because this could be a trap.
I’m not sure yet what Doyle’s intentions are. Is he on our side? A pawn The Divine One toys with? I saw his face when he discovered his twin brother and stepmother had been murdered and mutilated. There’s no faking that devastation, that heartbreak. If The Divine One did that to someone I love, I would do everything in my power to take her down. Destroy her. Rip her limb from limb.
