There’s a vague familiarity to the sound of her voice with those words. As if I know her and have heard her say these things before, but I have no recollection of ever meeting this woman.
“Kneel, wicked girl. Repent for your sins.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I tilt my head and say, “God is dead. I will repent for nothing because I have no regrets. I’m not sorry.”
“You will be.”
She wraps her hand around my hair and drags me out of the room. My feet tangle together and I nearly hit the floor, so she pulls my hair harder, keeping me on my toes. My head stings, but I don’t give her a reaction. I bite my tongue as she tosses me into a room, but it’s not solitary confinement. I’m not alone. Glancing around the room, there’s a woman in a broken chair with bruises on her face, and I can’t help but wonder if she was abused here or if it happened before she arrived. I continue perusing the room and see a can on the floor and walk over to it, immediately regretting it. This is the bathroom we are to use? Disgusting. When I notice two women in the corner of the room who I recognize, I gasp loudly, surprised to see them. Amanda and Nikki were in Wellard Asylum when I was and escaped at the same time. I’m not sure I want to approach either of them after my last experience, but I need information. Amanda never said a word to anyone but herself, and Nikki has DID. From what people said at Wellard—more personalities than you can count.
I’m surprised to see Amanda talking. Maybe she’s not mute as I thought. As I look closer, I realize she’s not just talking—she’s chanting. I move closer to catch what she’s saying.
“Because of this, rejoice, O heavens, and all who dwell within it. Woe to the earth and to the sea! For the devil has descended to you, holding great anger, knowing that he has little time.”
I know the words she’s reciting are from Revelation 12:12.
“The soul who sins shall die... the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself.”
Now it’s Ezekial 18:20. These are both scriptures I know well because they are two of my father's favorites.
No. Not Father. Jedediah.
Glancing at Nikki, she rolls her eyes at my questioning expression.
“Before she didn’t talk and now she never fucking shuts up. But she doesn’t say anything other than this nonsense. Don’t expect a real conversation.”
Amanda steps closer to Nikki as if she’s taunting her and says, “The wicked shall repent,” repeatedly, causing me to think of the man I hate more than anyone—my father. Ireallyhate him, but Killian is the reason they found me. He sent me that text message and arranged for the police to be there. It’s not even the fact that I’m locked up again—but the place I'm in and the unbelievable loss of Knox and Carter. I’ll never see them again, and that’s a fate worse than death. I sometimes wish I hadn’t lived. But then I think about the kids—not that I can help them from here, anyway. As long as I’m locked up in this fucking hellhole they’ll continue being abused. If I want to save them, I have to get out of here. They took my crosses so I have to find another way to make a weapon. Thoughts of Raven and the way he got us out of Wellard pop into my mind. I’ll have to do what he did—kill my way out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
KNOX
The last month has been one of the longest of my entire fucking life. I’ve been so focused on Carter I haven’t had the chance to grieve the woman we lost. I never told her that I loved her. That’s what this feeling is—I’m sure of it—now that she’s gone. In her place is this perpetual gnawing in my chest. I’ve known for a while that Carter was in love with her, and I knew I was fond of her. But I didn’t realize the depth of my feelings for Heather until it was too late. I guess you really don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I think about the night we lost her more often than I care to.
Her lying on the ground, bleeding to death.
Carter running into the woods—plunging his knife into his chest because living without her was simply unbearable. Something I now understand more than I’d like to.
Thank fuck for shaky hands. Carter is known for perfect aim, but that night he missed his intended target—his own fucking heart.
The first two weeks were rough with Carter attacking the staff, and I was sure he was going to get himself committed again. The second I mentioned finishing what she started, hehad a noticeable change in behavior, but what happens after Heather's family is dead—I’m not so sure. It’s something I try not to think about.
“Where the fuck is the nurse? I want to get out of here.” He growls out, his agitation obvious, and I flash him a look that says to chill the hell out. I don’t have to tell him that if he acts out again, he might end up locked away. This is a conversation we’ve had repeatedly over the last several days, so now a look is all that’s required. Besides, he knows I’m right.
My phone chimes with a text notification. I fish it out of my pants and glance at the message from Butch.
Butch:Had a chat with Kill. He was asking about your whereabouts.
Me:Please tell me you didn’t tell him.
I know we will have to deal with him when we get home, but I’m hoping to get Carter settled first.
Butch:That would be difficult since I don’t know. I have information. Is there somewhere we can meet?
I glance at Carter, and he arches his brow in question.
“Butch wants to meet. He says he has information.”
“About what?” He immediately asks, and I shrug my shoulders.
