Page 74 of Retribution
I stare at my girl and know she’ll be on board for this.
“Butterfly House.” I say, testing it out on my tongue.
Glancing at Bones quickly I nod.
“That sounds beautiful. I think Heather will approve.”
His expression is proud as his eyes lighten, and I know he’s thinking about his wife.
Heather stands in front of her mother, arms crossed over her chest.
“Where is he?”
She glares at her daughter, hatred marring her face as she speaks with poison dripping from her tongue.
“I’m not telling you anything, heathen.”
Carter reacts with lightning speed and races to her, wrapping his hand around her throat and squeezing hard.
“You will never say that again.Only I call her that.Say it again, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue from your mouth.”
When he releases her, she coughs and sputters like he was killing her but I don’t think he cut off her air supply. I’m fairly certain her theatrics are an attempt to appeal to Heather's softer side, but it’ll never work. Maybe she doesn’t know her daughter will end her life. It doesn’t matter that she is a woman. This pathetic excuse for a mother has caused as much pain as the men.
She inflicts pain.
Forces them to spread their legs and take the abuse.
The one person who should’ve saved them enables the torture.
Heather once told us her mother participated in it, and I’m not sure what that means or if I even want to know.
She turns to Bones.
“Is there a way to keep the Prophetress alive for now? I think if she wants to be a Prophet so fucking bad she should die like one.”
This woman is fucking perfect. Vengeance will not only be hers, it’ll be brutal. And everything she deserves.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
THE HEATHEN
Trigger Warning: The follow chapter depicts a violent gang rape by way of a memory. Reader discretion is advised.
Bones and Killian remove my mother, and I breathe a sigh of relief just from knowing she will suffer a harsh punishment like Jedediah. Although not necessarily the same.
I’m not sure if my men took me seriously when I said how I wanted the Prophet to die, but I wasn’t kidding. It’s a fitting end for him, and I’ve fantasized about it for years. Some people might say that it’s a religious crime, but I think God would disagree. If you want to claim to be hurting children in the name of God, there cannot be a more serious spiritual crime than that.
Pulling one of my crosses from my pocket I squat in front of Issac.
“I only need one thing from you. Your answer is the difference between anguish and a peaceful death. Where is he?”
As I expected he shakes his head.
“I’m not telling you.”
Lifting my arm I jab him hard with my elbow on the side of his jaw. He grunts as he spits blood on the floor.
“There’s one of two ways this goes. Easy or hard. It’s your choice.”
