Page 33 of I Will Mend You

I bow my head, focusing every ounce of effort on removing the object lodged deep in my body, but it’s as useless as trying to push out a tampon.

“So, did you come?” Seth asks.

I flinch away. “What?”

“Dolly says she comes during every shoot. Are you the same?”

My jaw clenches. “Is this your idea of small talk?”

He leans into me, the tip of his long nose grazing my cheek. “Only Dolly gets away with that kind of attitude here. Cheap imitations like you get used up and discarded.”

I swallow hard, forcing down a surge of fear. He isn’t anyone powerful—just a lackey trying to flex his muscles, now that Dolly isn’t here to tell him to keep his hands off.

“Thanks for the tip,” I murmur, low enough not to be heard by whoever’s making us wait. “I’ll make sure to be myself.”

Seth draws back, his brow furrowing. Before he can respond, the door swings open to reveal a room filled with white fabric arranged around a structure of metal stands to form an open tent. Studio lights surround it, creating a giant lightbox.

Inside is a backless couch upholstered in brown leather to look cozy, but the metal structures behind it remind me of the type of furniture available for sale in the Wonderland Fetish Store.

Seth shoves me in the back, and I stumble inside. The door behind me swings shut with a click. I whirl around, finding it devoid of handles, and gasp.

What the hell kind of room is this?

Footsteps sound from behind, and I pivot to find a large figure moving around the back of the tent. Delta steps out, clad in a tweed waistcoat and his shirt sleeves, tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders and muscular physique. He’s styled like a 1940s gentleman, making him look even more sinister.

His smile is more like Camila’s than Xero’s but there’s no mistaking the coldness of his blue eyes. This is a master manipulator. The kind of man who destroys young lives while he sits back to reap the spoils.

And somehow, he’s convinced Dolly to be his wife.

“Amethyst,” he says, his gaze raking down my unbuckled straitjacket and settling between my legs. “You and I need to get better acquainted, since we’re family.”

I would say no thanks, but I have a feeling he might invite Seth back inside to teach me a lesson.

His stare infuses my spine with ice, and I try not to shiver. When he sweeps his arm toward the tent, I force myself not to flinch. Seeing him alone in this room makes me feel young and vulnerable in a way that’s familiar, although I can’t remember why.

With a soft smile, he asks, “Why don’t you lie on the couch?”

FOURTEEN

XERO

I spend the next twenty-four hours under mild sedation, barely able to focus on watching recorded interrogations conducted by my team on my behalf. My eyes droop as Jynxson grills Dr. Saint about Amethyst’s past, and I snooze through her answers. When I’m lucid, I stare into the mirror of Reverend Thomas’s computer.

Another day has passed, and I’m no closer to locating my little ghost.

Tyler has a person stationed at the vicarage, ready to transfer funds to Father the moment he replies to the reverend’s request to pay for a place as an investor.

A small team is monitoring X-Cite Media’s downtown house where I met their content manager and recruiter, Harlan Stills.

Jynxson conducted another interrogation of the man, which confirmed what we learned about the membership site being invite-only. Stills also told us where we’d find a database of everybody who joined X-Cite Media’s inner circle, as well as those who rented its movies.

We’re making progress, but not quickly enough. Nobody knows the location of the next shoot. According to Stills, Amethyst and Father could be anywhere within the continent of North or South America.

I run through my last twenty-four hours with Amethyst, still unsure whether she attacked out of a sense of betrayal or loyalty to Father.

The next morning, Father replies on the forum, the message containing an acceptance of Reverend Thomas’s offer to fund the shoot along with the payment details. Using the credentials we took from our newest prisoner, Tyler transfers two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to Father from the centralized bank account shared by all the churches in the denomination within Beaumont City.

He’s also packed away the Reverend’s clothes, passport, and suitcases, leaving behind traces of a man addicted to pornography and gambling. When the bishop comes searching for the missing priest, he’ll assume Reverend Thomas has absconded with the church funds.

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