Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
I shake my head but hold Prophet’s gaze, trying to communicate without words.
I should have waited and spoken with him first, shouldn’t I? Too bad seeing Isaac made me lose my shit before I could approach my prez. “I’ll explain everything. But not here.”
Prophet takes a deep breath and scans the scene with resignation, but then waves his hand our way like a benevolent king sparing our lives. “Take them to the cell.”
Chapter 45
Clyde
I’m not some maniac, but damn did it feel good to hear the monster from my nightmares scream. Maybe Prophet was right about burned ground being fertile, because I’m fucking rejuvenated.
It all happened so fast. From meeting him face-to-face, to the conversation with Road, and the aftermath at the bonfire. I don’t even regret that he didn’t suffer longer. It’s good to know he got a horrific end, and that I got to be a part of it, but I didn’t want to interact with him much.
And even though we’re now stuck in a cell, I understand why Road lost his shit and went for it. He loves me, takes me at my word, thinks the world of me, and couldn’t bear that scum walking the earth a moment longer.
I didn’t want to burden him with my secret. After all, didn’t I become tough? And yet sharing it with my man eased the choking sensation inside. My chest is lighter now that he carries half the load. I won’t be alone, no matter what happens, and I’ll give him the same in return. He will always be able to lean on me.
Even when we’re locked up. I didn’t know the Vultures had a cell in a basement under their clubhouse. It’s concerning, because it suggests people who end up here don’t live to tell the tale.
Road is calm though, as if the kill has eased an insistent tension inside, and I choose to follow his guidance as we walk behind the bars right before the door is locked behind us.
“What a fucking shitshow,” Martin mumbles and is about to spit on the floor when Prophet glares at him. He ends up swallowing his saliva and leaves the three of us alone, walking up the stairs in strides that tell me he wishes I stopped existing when he’s not looking.
Prophet chews on his lip, tugging on his belt as we listen to the heavy footsteps, but once the door hiding the entrance into the cellar shuts, he barks, staring at Road. “What the fuck? You just came over and murdered a guy everyone knows and likes in cold blood, in front of civilians! How do you expect me to deal with that?”
Road inhales, about to speak, but his prez shushes him with a gesture and starts pacing, hand on his many amulets, as if he were praying to whatever gods he believes in. “He was your friend! What the hell happened? Why?”
Is revealing my secret the only way out of this mess? I don’t want to. I scowl and lean against the wall with my arms crossed. I leave Road to do what he must but discreetly shake my head when he glances at me.
Prophet has a keen eye it seems. “Not him again!” he says to Road. “What could Isaac have possibly done to deserve that? I was there. I introduced them. Nothing happened.”
Road straightens his back, his gaze meeting Prophet’s, and I dig my nails into the flesh of my palm, preparing to stay calm in case Prophet finds out what happened. But the ugly truth stays hidden when Road says. “He deserved it.”
Prophet utters a curse and kicks over a stool standing on his side of the bars. “What does that even fucking mean? The man was killed right in front of the whole village. They have the right to know why, or they’ll worry it might happen to them too.”
Road’s shaking his head. “I know I should have waited, but he did deserve it, all right? If Roy did, then so did Isaac.”
A quiet settles over the room when Prophet freezes with his back to us, staring at the wall. He turns around and watches me with the eyes of a hawk. He’s probably surprised I know.
“And you’ve got nothing to say?” he asks me. “We welcomed you with open arms even though I don’t think you deserve it. But we did it for Road, and this is how you repay us?”
I glare back and repeat what Road said. “He deserved it.”
“Fuck. You,” Prophet barks and kicks the bars this time, which makes the whole cellar thrum with the eerie metallic noise of it. “Both of you!”
Road’s shoulders drop, as if he can barely hold the weight of the accusation in his prez’s eyes, but he remains firm. “I know I fucked up in the way I did it, but I am not sorry I killed him.”