I wink at her. “We both know the answer to that question.”
Bec’s features harden and she shakes her head. “She’s awife, dipshit.”
“I’m well aware.” I grit my teeth, the memory of how she was treated earlier tonight flashing in my mind.
“If you don’t put me down, I will scream,” the woman warns, and I immediately set her down, catching her arm as she wobbles on her feet.
She takes in the sight before her with wide eyes. Bec, a woman who talks and dresses like a man is unheard of in New Athens in and of itself; but the van full of women whose eyes are full of equal parts hope and fear must push her over the edge. “Hel—”
Bec clamps her hand over the wife’s mouth before she can finish screaming for help. We exchange a look, knowing our choice has just been made for us; if we let her go, she’ll undoubtedly alert someone of our presence, which means she’s coming with us, whether she wants to or not.
“Listen here, wifey.” Bec talks to the woman like she’s an unreasonable toddler, slowly and clearly. “If you want to live, you’ll do exactly as I say.”
The frightened woman’s eyes fill with tears, but she nods nonetheless. I hate knowing we’re the cause of more of her trauma, but hopefully, with time, she’ll come to forgive us.
“Good. Now get in the van, and no harm will come to you.” Bec and I both know she would never hurt a woman, butshedoesn’t know that.
The women on the left bench all scoot over to make room for the newest addition, who climbs up into the van on shaking legs. Before she can make a scene, I slam the back door shut and lock it, hoping the other women will keep her relatively calm. Bec and I round the van and I climb into the driver’s seat, turning the key already in the ignition.
Bec is uncharacteristically quiet beside me in the passenger seat, but I know better. This is just the calm before the storm.
Sure enough, I pull out of the docking bay and she sighs. I can see her rubbing the bridge of her nose out of the corner of my eye. “Whose wife is she, Maverick?”
My grip on the steering wheel tightens inadvertently. “Gabriel’s.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bec groans. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I grit my teeth. “I wasn’t.”
“Maids and cooks are one thing. But a wife—ahigh-profilewife? You’ve just started a war I’m not sure we can win.” Bec shakes her head.
“If you would’ve seen the way he treated her, Bec…” I trail off, because we both know it’s just an excuse.
“You can’t save them all, Mav.” Bec’s words hang in the air between us as the rain patters against the windshield.
Benji guides us out of the city over comms, helping us avoid checkpoints and traffic stops, until we pull up to the dock where our small ferry is waiting to take us back to the island where base is currently set up. We bribed the ferryman handsomely to let us dock here—and by bribed I mean paid, threatened, and knocked out—so leaving the port is uneventful.
Once we’re on open water, I exit the van and unlock the back door, only to catch the fist flying straight toward my face.
Delilah
Present Day
“Any man who rejects the Brotherhood’s tenets shall be classified as a traitor to New Athens.”—PUNISHMENT FOR RESISTANCE, N.A.L. 8 § 12
This man is not like other men. He’s like the men frombefore,like my dad cracking jokes, saying anything just to get my mom to smile after a rough day with baby Liam. It feels innatelywrong. Whoever he is, he’s not a lord, or even a brother. And the woman with him? I can’t even remember the last time I saw a woman who looks or acts like her. There’s a standard for how women should present themselves physically, and none of it includes short hair, eyebrow piercings, or a masculine, domineering posture.
The other women in the truck don’t seem to be nearly as distressed as I am, which only puts me even further on edge. “Where are they taking us?” I ask, unable to mask the wobble in my voice.
The woman next to me—a housekeeper by the looks of it—gently places her hand on my knee, something akin to hope sparkling in her eyes. “We’re getting out.”
My eyes widen. “Out? Out of where?”
“Out of the Brotherhood’s evil fucking clutches, that’s where.” The woman across from me smiles, but it’s not a smile of joy. In truth, she looks more like a caged animal baring her teeth, and I can’t say it brings me any comfort.
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
“God, she’s thick. They really keep wives in the dark, don’t they?” one woman says quietly to her friend, but I hear it anyway.
