I realize Ophelia is standing there, her mismatched eyes wide with dismay. She’s already seen far too much violence, and I wish she didn’t have to see this either, but I can’t just let this go. Something is going on.
I remember catching a glance passing between Felix and the Prophet. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time because there had been so much going on, but now I think about it, it was recognition, I’m sure. But why would they know each other? Unless… Felix is somehow on the Prophet’s payroll?
But it wasn’t the Prophet that Felix had been talking to just then, because the Prophet is dead. It had been my father, I’m sure.
I’m not letting this drop. “If I’m overreacting, you won’t mind us looking at that cell phone, because something tells me that you and my father are in on something, and it is connected to the Prophet.”
At that, Ophelia gasps, her hands covering her mouth. “Your father! It was him.”
I shoot her a confused look. She seems to know something more, but how is that possible? What the hell is she alluding to?
“What’s going on, Ophelia?”
She shakes her head. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. There’s something I never told you. I thought it wasmyfather who was responsible, and I didn’t want you all to hate him even more than you already did. Then I reasoned it couldn’t be him, but I was convinced that would be your conclusion, so… I kept it secret.”
I stare at her. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Daisy told me that the Prophet knew who I was long before he snatched me as a child. She said the whole thing was planned, that I was set up. The Prophet didn’t come across me accidentally the day he took me.”
Her words hit me with the force of a sledgehammer, making it hard to get air into my lungs. The terrible consequence of what she’s saying is almost too much to handle.
“You mean someone set up your kidnapping?”
A solid lump of rock seems to form in my chest. Is she saying what I think she is?
She stares at me with big, round eyes. “I think so, and now with this … what if it was your dad?”
Everything clicks into place. All those years ago, my father never liked how close I’d gotten to Ophelia and her family. He could see how much I’d loved her, even back then. He’d probably envisioned a future where I’d want to marry her and so would join our two families together. He’d always seen our family as superior to Ophelia’s. Would he really have gone to such an effort to rid her from our lives?
It wouldn’t have been difficult for him, not if he knew the Prophet somehow. He could have easily learned where Ophelia’s family were going to be and handed her over to the Prophet.
“Fuuck!” I roar, my fists clenched.
As I stare at Felix, I know, deep in my gut, that my father did this and Felix is in on it. His eyes are wide, jaw tense, nostrils flared, and his face is pale. So fucking pale because heunderstands what’s going to happen to him. One look at that face, and I am one hundred percent sure that Felix has betrayed me and almost got the woman I love killed.
One of the men, Smith, is still wearing his holster, and I snatch the weapon out of it.
I click off the safety, aim, and before he can even blink, I shoot Felix in the forehead. He crumples to the ground, a round hole in the middle of his skull.
Ophelia screams, and Roman gathers her to him, hiding her face. I hate that she had to see this, more violence on violence, but I won’t let anyone put her at risk. She’s ours, the Preachers’. She’s our fucking precious, perfect Pet, and anyone who even looks at her wrong will regret it.
I swing the gun around on the others. “Who else knew about this?”
I’m not rational anymore; a dark rage is eating me up from the inside. My hand shakes slightly with the effort not to shoot them all instantly.
Deacon steps back, his hands held up. “No, fuck no. We’d never do that.”
Smith shakes his head. “It had nothing to do with us. We were just following orders.”
“Just following orders to do what? Set us up?” I roar.
“Cain, we weren’t in on this, and our orders were never to hurt you or the girl. Fucking hell, I was almost killed.”
Mal steps in and gently puts his hand on my forearm, steadying the gun, grounding me, too.
“It makes sense, Cain. Your father and Felix wouldn’t tell everyone. It would be too risky. Someone would let it slip.”
My brain whirrs. My father did this. Not just the last twenty-four hours, but the last ten fucking years! All the pain of losing my best friend, all the torment Ophelia went through with theProphet, all the agony her parents felt at losing their daughter… it was all his fault.
